Not only was that a fantastic scene but it also answered questions I have had for a while. I actually wrote a min-essay and tried to attach it to the discussions you'd been having concerning this scene, but it didn't work and it was too long to write over. I wanted to say that what Inara did now would have everything to do with why she was there in the first place. So obviously, my comments were not necessary. Great minds and all that.
I also had wanted to say that Mal feels connected to women who have known suffering (Zoe, Nandi) or protective of people who have not (Kaylee). But Inara never spoke about her troubles and she didn't want his protection. He's been confused.
River is the oddity, she's in the protected group so far, he's not thinking of her as a veteren to pain, but as a victim. I suspect you plan to change that, but I'll just have to wait and see.
I recently read a book about a man who comes back from Vietnam War overwhelmed by guilt. For the next 25 years he helps rescue mothers and their children from abusive husbands. He says that he never had felt as connected with anyone else than to he did to those women and kids because they also knew what hell looked like.
I thought about this when I read your essay on Mal and River.
no subject
Not only was that a fantastic scene but it also answered questions I have had for a while. I actually wrote a min-essay and tried to attach it to the discussions you'd been having concerning this scene, but it didn't work and it was too long to write over. I wanted to say that what Inara did now would have everything to do with why she was there in the first place. So obviously, my comments were not necessary. Great minds and all that.
I also had wanted to say that Mal feels connected to women who have known suffering (Zoe, Nandi) or protective of people who have not (Kaylee). But Inara never spoke about her troubles and she didn't want his protection. He's been confused.
River is the oddity, she's in the protected group so far, he's not thinking of her as a veteren to pain, but as a victim. I suspect you plan to change that, but I'll just have to wait and see.
I recently read a book about a man who comes back from Vietnam War overwhelmed by guilt. For the next 25 years he helps rescue mothers and their children from abusive husbands. He says that he never had felt as connected with anyone else than to he did to those women and kids because they also knew what hell looked like.
I thought about this when I read your essay on Mal and River.