The Last Of Us - Ep. 3: Por muito, muito tempo

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[English Version] Edgar Allan Poe: Mesmerism in the case of Mr. Valdemar

Edgar Allan Poe: Mesmerism in the case of Mr. Valdemar

 

Hello my dears. I am the Raven who speaks to you.

“The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar” is not among Poe's best works, much less among those best known and revered in the field of the arts, but it is undoubtedly one of the darkest tales of the first half of the 19th century. A great strength in Poe's writing is the pseudoscientific aspect. And I refer to it as pseudoscientific because it is not really scientific at all: in fact it takes scientific questions and mixes with supernatural elements, thus creating situations, phenomena and consequences that, although not in fact true or possible in reality, give the reader the feeling that they can really happen to someone. Poe was a studious fellow and it is important to say that, although he tried to make a living with literature without much success, his field of interest was never limited exclusively to this camp.

I believe that “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar” is one of several tales that shows very well the length of Poe's interests and how they affect his fiction. In this tale we have very detailed descriptions about the body structure of a sick person, something arising from the studies that Poe was doing at the time with medical manuals. In a way, it is this effort and commitment that make his work so believable, even portraying the absurd. When Poe imagined a concept inspired by some event or something he had read, he doubled his efforts in understanding the theme, so that he would have enough basic knowledge to make a narrative with a high level of realism, something that ends up having a surprising impact.

He writes about absurd things, but with such propriety, dedication and attention that his readers are induced to believe that the tale corresponds to something that could or did happen in reality. “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar” is perhaps the best example in the works of the victorian novelist. Many believe that the hoax, which is false information linked to some communication channel without further explanation in order to make people believe that it is true, is something from the end of the 20th century. With the popularization of internet the hoax became popular again, in fact. Before political fake news, people online created stories in order to convince a large audience of the veracity of strange events. But the hoax is something quite old. This tale was a hoax and one of the many curiosities about Poe’s work. In my analysis, I see dishonesty on the part of the novelist, although commentators at the time claim he just wanted to play a joke on readers. But when “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar” was published, Poe didn't put much specification into it. And the level of detail was so vivid, precise and grotesque, supported by real physiological descriptions, that the reading public really believed that the tale was a real case. People were horrified. It is one of Poe's most macabre tales, without a doubt. His aesthetic work and the way he plays with the reader's imagination is disturbing. Only later did he clarify that this tale was fictitious, when he began to be questioned about it. But the damage was already done: many people lost sleep over the horrific ending and Poe obviously got what he wanted: publicity. Positive and negative. For a writer who was never very successful in his own era, something that happens a lot in literature with many ahead of their time and misunderstood by their own people, Poe craved any kind of attention he could get. And so he wrote one of the most macabre, appealing and disturbing tales of his time. But, don't misunderstand: the tale is brilliant, both from a technical, psychological and aesthetic point of view. It perfectly fulfills its purpose. And Poe's physiological approach in describing Mr. Valdemar's slow process of putrefaction is so precise that this is, in fact, what makes this tale so astonishing. I try to imagine victorians reading this and I can't - it must have been terrifying. The society was not prepared for something so shocking.

I imagine that Poe had even personal motivations to invest in a medical description as accurate as the one he presented here. When Poe published the story in 1845, it had been four years since his wife, Virginia, had been battling tuberculosis. Imagine, for a brief moment, what it is like to suffer from this cursed disease for four years without the modern treatments we have today, the level of despondency and pitiful state that this disease caused in people. If Poe was able to describe someone so sick and literally languishing on his deathbed, this is undoubtedly due to the fact that he also had very similar experiences with his own wife. The images are vivid because, literally, Poe experienced them every day. Quite possibly he found in literature a way to elaborate and alleviate this tension.

I could not fail to mention, of course, the second field of interest and resource used by the tale, which is mesmerism. Mind control and the hypnotic process is a topic that caused a lot of fascination in Victorian society. The 19th century was quite heated with regard to this topic, with constant studies and many experiments. An example of this is the later work of the austrian physician Josef Breuer, who, by teaching the hypnotic therapeutic method to Sigmund Freud, had a direct influence on the first works of psychoanalytic theory and on the notion of the unconscious. The most literate victorians with some level of education certainly had access to the subject. Something that Poe, by the way, helped to highlight even more. It is enough to reflect on how many times mesmerism appeared as a key element in his tales. Poe had a huge interest in the human mind and in phenomena not yet explained by science. And even though he was never actually a scientist, this victorian-era curiosity on the part of the lay public is extremely well represented in his work.

In “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar” Poe's proposal is to act in two dimensions: first, he wants to incite the public's curiosity about this hypnosis. And second, inciting fear by moving, aiming at the depths of the unknown, of what is beyond life. That would be the supposed life after death, something that humanity has always had a lot of interest for not being able to deal very well with its own finitude. Poe glues one theme to another, making them work together. The central question is: if a person is in a hypnotic process and close to death, if the body dies, will the mind die with it? Or will it remain active until such time as the link is finally broken? It is simply macabre, disturbing, horrifying to imagine. And just as brilliant. Valdemar's hypnotic guidance, in the process of death and in the afterlife, is one of the most terrifying things I've ever read in literature. Poe spares no adjectives to describe the process. The pitiful state of Valdemar's physical structure, after death, progressively worsens. The man literally rots in bed and, even if you are not in the scene and your sensitivity is high, maybe you can even smell the stench that exudes from what we used to call a body. However, only one thing continues to move in his constitution, due to the hypnotic link that was not broken: the tongue.

Valdemar's death facial expression is horrendous. It would frighten even those who work in hospitals and have already followed the death of terminal patients. His mouth remained open and in turn the blackened tongue, with difficulty, continues to make movements in an attempt to answer the requested questions. Understand: the man is dead. Dead! His mouth doesn't move, JUST his tongue. And bizarrely, he still manages to make sounds with a different timbre. And this is an element that will certainly disturb the most sensitive ones, because it is practically impossible not to raise other questions from this frightening figure that we imagine during the reading: is it really Valdemar speaking there? Or is it something else? This is what give the fantastic and necessary ambiguous tone to the tale. Its true strength. The contact with this incredible and disturbing thing that will make the deepest fears and superstitions germinate in their minds. “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar” is a powerful tale capable of continuing to haunt future generations, because at the same time that it is accurate in its physiological and medical descriptions, it works with questions and doubts that will remain in each generation.

Corvid greetings!

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Shurayukihime/Lady Snowblood (Japan, 1973)

Hello my dears. I am the Raven who speaks to you.

In the West, Quentin Tarantino made a resounding success with two films based on revenge performed through the katana’s sound cutting nerves and bones. Of course I'm talking about “Kill Bill”, Volumes 1 and 2. But what many people don't know is that these two great films have absolutely nothing original. Conceptually, Tarantino borrowed from a bloody, scarlet, much older source: the wonderful film called “Shurayukihime” or, as it became known in the US, “Lady Snowblood”.

Tarantino even confessed the deep admiration and impact that this japanese film had on him. And as I point out the Shurayukihime’s aspects, everything will become very clear. But, I need to go further: Tarantino not only was inspired to direct Kill Bill; he copied “Lady Snowblood” in every possible way. In 1973, this film had already built all the pillars that made “Kill Bill” a visually interesting experience. The characteristic soundtrack, well set and that communicates the feelings of the protagonist; the excess of blood in the exacerbation of the wounds, which brings out the red through the torrents and jets of blood; a photograph very concerned with portraying colors, lots of colors; the narrative aspect, which is engaged in the linearity of the protagonist's steps; the division into chapters; and finally, the central motivation that moves the character: the rooted feeling of deep hatred, due to the loss of a loved one, which motivates her to take revenge, whatever the cost.

All of this had already been portrayed in “Shurayukihime”. And in 1973, thirty years before “Kill Bill”. For that time yes, it was something notorious. This kind of characteristic cinema that director Toshiya Fujita presented. The japanese film is also not 100% original, as it is a film adaptation of Kazuo Koike's manga of the same name. However, the portrayal is quite faithful to the spirit of the manga. Even the director had the concern to portray some scenes of the film through manga arts, showing the past of the protagonist Yuki, where she retrospectively presents us with the barbarities done to her mother.

Toshiya Fujita was quite assertive when he chose to maintain the foundations of Kazuo Koike's work. And he did so by placing the film within a genre called jidaigeki (period dramas). In this sense, we see here in “Shurayukihime” a characteristic that was not so contemplated by Tarantino's film: the focus on drama, on the suffering of the characters involved. Tarantino even did something along those lines with Beatrix Kiddo, but with Yuki it's even more pronounced. “Shurayukihime” isn't quite a movie that will bring you to tears, but it will leave you emotionally moved. The soundtrack is composed of quite romantic tracks. It is a film that, unlike “Kill Bill”, does not focus so much on the action, but on the biography of those involved. On the ordeal they had to go through and how this ended up shaping their personalities and lives. Especially when we talk about the protagonist, the lady of the underworld, the orphaned child who was born with the burden of avenging the death of her relatives: Yuki Kashima.

Something I find notorious and I couldn't fail to mention is how much the performance of the actress and singer Meiko Kaji makes all the difference. Toshiya Fujita filmed the actress' face a lot, and scenically her expression is fascinating. We see very transparently the weight of the burden on her face, mixed with hatred and a lot of pain. Meiko Kaji was a very beautiful actress, but her expressiveness is one of the highlights of this film. The sensitive way she acts, gets emotional and enters the character with great immersion it's something quite moving. It even impacted not only me, but Tarantino himself: when he filmed the first “Kill Bill”, the character O-ren Ishii, played by Lucy Liu, was inspired by Yuki. The final scene of “Shurayukihime”, when the protagonist is walking bloodied and dying in the snow, with sublime photography, also inspired the director: he practically plagiarized in Kill Bill’s snow scene, where by the way the song “Shura no Hana” (The Flower Of Carnage) is sung by Meiko Kaji. She is phenomenal.

The sword fights are something more realistic. “Kill Bill” had the intention of amplifying the reality standard, it is a film that intends to exaggerate and exaggerates, as the Tarantino's style dictates. He learned from this movie. But “Shurayukihime” doesn't exaggerate that much, except for the excess of blood. In other characteristics, and also due to the technological limitations of the time, the sword fights are quite organic and choreographed with simplicity. There are some leaps that presuppose a higher than normal level of reality, but it is something that is only presented to us in the period where Yuki was still being trained to carry out her revenge. It's just a few moments. The choreography is quite simple, but satisfying: Yuki isn't looking to show off, just send to the grave those who destroyed her mother's life and, consequently, hers as well. And she tries to do this bluntly, because there is a certain urgency in her to put an end to this suffering that she has been carrying since she was a baby.

In general, the film ends up focusing more on the artistic aspect. As we are in 1973, Japan already had films in color and Fujita does not hide the animation one bit because he is filming like this, with all the textures available. He focuses on the color of objects, costumes, kanji writing, the prints painted on fabric. Scanning the film only made Shurayukihime's colors even more vivid. It is a very beautiful film to watch, because in addition to being strong, the colors are presented with a lot of contrast, with the use of light and heavy tones combined.

Briefly, let me tell you about the fruit of Yuki's hatred and what drove her to pursue her revenge. We are in the seventh year of the Meiji era, which is at its beginning after the end of the Edo period. Japan was undergoing a process of modernization and society was divided and in conflict: there were those who supported the adoption of technology and cultural references from the West and, on the other hand, there were conservatives, those who did not see with good eyes any kind of transformation. This actually happened at the end of the 19th century; would happen again after the Second World War, but it was something that Japan had been dealing with for a long time, almost a century ago. Contact with western nations was frowned upon by the japanese for a long time.

It is in this hostile environment that, in some villages, government agents who had a characteristic white outfit began to be killed. In one of them, a teacher, accompanied by his wife and young son, was attacked because his clothes referred to these agents. He was brutally killed by four burglars and the child was not spared either. Only the woman is held captive. After the murder, she was raped by the gang and one of them kept her as a concubine for some time. Yearning for revenge, she waited for a propitious moment to kill him, which she manages to do successfully, but ends up being arrested in the process without fulfilling her goal of tracking down and eliminating the other three remaining malefactors. She was sentenced to life in prison, meaning she would never be released again. In jail, she gives her body to several men, hoping to generate a son who, when he leaves, would finish the revenge. And that's how Yuki is born, already destined for this hell. Marked by hate. Because of this people called her "child of the underworld", as she was already born doomed to bring death to those who killed her family. And her mother ended up dying during childbirth, which was very difficult.

Since she was a little girl, Yuki was trained to be an assassin. One of the prisoners who met her mother took Yuki to a monastery to be trained by Dokai, a priest. His rigidity was unprecedentedly brutal, something that completely undermined Yuki's childhood. But from these years of ruthless training and the suppression of empathy, a near-perfect assassin was born, who then set out to find those responsible for her mother's ruin.

The film was divided into four moments, which we can call chapters or arcs. As I mentioned, Yuki's journey is not only action-oriented, but also drama-oriented. One of the main consequences of revenge is that, instead of compensating for one misfortune, it creates several others along the way. It's a snowball, bloody in this case. One of Yuki's targets, for example, already had a daughter during the twenty years following his crime. A daughter who even prostitutes herself to keep the house and his addiction to alcohol. Some moral dilemmas appear throughout the plot, exploring a wider range of issues rather than just venting the character's hatred.

These are characteristics that make japanese films, especially jidaigeki, much more emotional than western films with a similar approach. They are films with very deep feelings, narrated in a way where words tend to translate this emotion in a very poetic way. Photography, music, screenplay, performance by Meiko Kaji and the poetic sense contained in the four chapters make “Shurayukihime” a true and unmissable classic of japanese cinema, very impactful and influential. It's almost surreal to imagine this aesthetic in the early 70's, which clearly demonstrates how well ahead of its time this film was.

“Shurayukihime” got a sequel a year later on account of its resounding success. “Shurayukihime: Urami renka” or “Lady Snowblood: Love Song Of Vengeance”, was also directed by Toshiya Fujita and reprized Meiko Kaji in the role of Yuki. A good film, but the first one in my analysis is the best. It is the quintessence of this beautiful and magnificent character created by Kazuo Koike. Indispensable for those who appreciate all cinema, not just the eastern one.

Corvid greetings!

E. T. A. Hoffmann: Vampirismus (1821)

[English Version] Shurayukihime/Lady Snowblood (Japan, 1973)

Junji Ito - Scarecrows: A grief not overcome

 

Hello my dears. I am the Raven who speaks to you.

In this video, I'll meditate on the short story called “Scarecrows”, written and drawn by the legendary mangaka Junji Ito. As usual, a recurrent and notorious feature of Ito-sensei, “Scarecrows” will present a supernatural story, with elements of the absurd, but which the author manages to insert into the factual world from the connection that the strange things he imagines are linked to typically human themes.

It is not my intention summarize or tell the story for you. The best appreciation is without a doubt reading and contemplating the graphical representation presented in the manga. But I rescue some elements of the narrative so that they can serve as an introduction for listeners to better understand my interest in discussing grief in this short podcast.

“Scarecrows” tells the story of two tragedies. One of them refers to Yuki’s suicide, committed after her father denied her the right to marry the man she loved. The father, day after day, visits her tomb in the cemetery and carries a huge guilt for Yuki's death. The boyfriend also makes frequent visits, but he encounters resistance from her father who mistreats and humiliates him, trying to prevent his approach to the tomb. Even with his daughter's death, the father apparently hasn't learned much. He even blames the boy for her death, outsourcing his responsibility and placing it on the lad.

The cemetery where Yuki was buried is next to a plantation, where naturally there are scarecrows whose function is to scare away crows and other birds that might want to approach. In an act of rage, Yuki's father pulls one of them off and sticks it on top of her tomb, in order to kick out the boy who shared a love with her, telling him that he was doing this because the scarecrow would shoo him like it did with the crows in the field.

Time passes and they leave. But the scarecrow still prostrate before the tomb. Upon returning the next day, the father notices that the figure, already frightening by nature, has begun to show traits of his daughter. It grew hair like hers. Day after day, the scarecrow reveals more characteristics of Yuki, never actually turning into a person, but gaining an appearance so similar that people who pass by the place come to believe that someone had made a scarecrow of Yuki, putting it in front of her tomb.

Emotional, the father forces the scarecrow to talk to him, but nothing happens. The only thing the scarecrow does is take on her features, making small eye movements and a pseudo facial expression. The father tries to take it home, but outside the tomb it goes back to normal, its original form. There is something about the environment, about the tomb, that transforms the scarecrow.

When the community becomes aware of the events, a predictable collective phenomenon occurs: everyone starts to make their scarecrows to stick in front of the tombs, hoping that they will take the form of their loved ones who are gone. The cemetery is no longer just a cluster of tombstones, but macabre scarecrows as well, dozens of them, all bearing human expressions.

From this brief preamble, I believe it is possible to reflect on this manga by Junji Ito. First of all, it's pretty clear to me that the element of grief is very strong. Saying goodbye to someone dear is not an easy thing, on the contrary: it is a very difficult process, which can take days, weeks or even months for the acute pain to gradually subside. This is definitely an element here. Yuki’s father frequent visits, motivated by pain and guilt, do not just fulfill a ritualistic function, one of respect: the visits to Yuki's grave have become the meaning of his life. Although the young woman passed away and made a split with earthly existence, the father's connection with her is still intense and permeated by a lot of suffering.

Some cultures, but not all, believe and encourage the good experience of grief. Funeral rites are performed not only because of the need to bury the dead, but also to say goodbye. As some people who share this belief often say, it's time to "let people go, their spirits migrate." There are many who believe that intense pain, the incessant desire to have a loved one back, the inability to move away from objects or mortal remains, or even the behavior of making the loss the center and sole reason for their existence, would be something that makes this transition process difficult. In other words, it would make it difficult for those who can no longer be here to actually leave. When scarecrows start to take on human features, that's something that comes to mind. The inability to overcome grief, the constant desire to reunite those who were lost is something that, somehow, keeps traces of them in this world. And, in this case, they ended up being reflected in the scarecrows, which served as modeling material.

Interestingly, Ito-sensei doesn't stop there. He will also work, in the manga, with the dimension of the trauma of death on the part of those who have died. In other words, those who died did not necessarily come out of this event unscathed. They may have been traumatically affected as well. Could the desire to find again those we lost be reciprocal? Could those who left nurture the desire to reunite? Furthermore, could those who died of unnatural causes be aware of this? Could they share human traits and feelings? And from that have individual motivations? Ito-sensei's manga is capable of let these question in the air.

But without a doubt the collective phenomenon caused by Yuki's scarecrow transformation is the most emblematic. It does point to dozens of poorly experienced grief, of several goodbyes that were not completely fulfilled. Of a dependency and lack never supplied. From a living and pulsating illusion that it would be possible to reconnect with loved ones. When people start to put their scarecrows in the cemetery, mothers taking children to meet the grandparents they never met and, at the same time, we readers see dozens of scarecrows with human features, but without the real ability to respond, to relate to each other, we are invaded by a gigantic feeling of malaise and even sadness. We reflect on the human condition, the fragility of our spirits. At the same time that we feel sorry for those poor people, perhaps this feeling is also transferred to our own reality. Is the blindness and hallucination caused by the pain and the inability to overcome, something that is only in the other people? What could also be dwelling in us, being reanimated, while we read and follow the story?

There is not a single answer to this question. Each one will respond according to their own experience with grief, loss and the way they deal with their own pain. “Scarecrows” is a manga that will affect people in different ways. And that might not even affect if the grief was done well or if the reader avoid to feel because of the fear that old pains and memories, repressed internally, might emerge.

Junji Ito has the ability to represent utopian things, which have no place in this world, in a way that is never safe. And this is what makes him so special, because while the elements are part of a utopia we are safe, they are merely part of a fiction and cannot touch us. But through its symbols and Ito's ability to make the unreal capable of invoking human themes, its creatures and oddities begin to be felt in the epidermis. They affect our minds, hearts and souls. It is when the utopian mixes with the real and, momentarily, enters the real world. The feeling of security is no longer a guarantee. And that's where the genuine horror comes from.

Corvid greetings!

The Last Of Us - Ep. 1: Quando estiver perdido na escuridão

[English Version] Junji Ito - Scarecrows: A grief not overcome

Wednesday - Ep. 6: "Compensaflição"

[English Version] Ada Wong: Resident Evil's stealthy viper

Ada Wong: Resident Evil's stealthy viper

 

Hello my dears. I am the Raven who speaks to you.

Resident Evil, as a franchise, has been on the market for over two decades. The series underwent several transformations, including changing the genre itself, which was initially more focused on survivor horror (with puzzle elements) and, later, adopted an action adventure-oriented direction. The audience that consumes the franchise is quite diverse, but what really interests me are the events of Racoon City. The tone, the threat, the tragedy, the mystery, the sudden chaos that throws the city into complete pandemonium within hours. A criminal biological attack that claimed the lives of thousands of innocent people, the nefarious figures and true heroes involved. It's the Resident Evil that really attracts me and that stayed in the past, even though recently remakes about this golden era of the franchise have been produced.

Naturally, my predilection for Ada involves the character's lack of transparency, unpredictability, the moral compass that transits from one extreme to the other and the absurd technical competence that she possesses, being a sort of synthesis of the Racoon City setting and what exactly it means. A synthesis of those elements all summed up in the strong and blurred personality of just one character.

Some people might question my predilection for Ada when there are captivating and sensational characters like Jill Valentine on the scene. Or even the franchise's most recurring villain, Albert Wesker, who is quite revered by the fandom as well. In this sense, I need to make further clarifications, therefore: the fact that a character is considered a hero, villain or even an anti-hero, who does not fit into either of the two profiles mentioned is not enough for me to like or dislike it. The determining factor in my choice will always be with regard to its concept, how it was presented and developed. In other words, what makes me like a character is how well his script, which describes and makes the personality revealed, is well written or not. And in that sense, Ada Wong is the most conceptually interesting character for me of the entire franchise, even though she is still a secondary one. And this is even a strong sign of what I'm talking about: Ada doesn't need to be on the scene all the time, because in the few moments she appears, she'll leave marks, do some damage and make the plot much more interesting and entertaining.

The games that contain Leon Kennedy as the protagonist are so popular, as well as the character himself, in my opinion is only possible because of Ada’s presence. There's a golden rule in Resident Evil games, as everyone knows: where there is Chris Redfield, there is Albert Wesker. Where there is Leon Kennedy, there is Ada Wong. And Leon's plots become much more interesting, unpredictable and tense because with Ada around we never know exactly what can happen. There is always a great plot and central antagonist... and there is also Ada, who works as something beyond, an addition that can result in great impact or not.

It's never clear exactly which side Ada is on because, in essence, Ada's side is just her side. Ada is quite narcissistic; she is not moved in any respect by a sense of guilt. But still at times she ends up being moved by a feeling of retribution (which can translate into cooperation or revenge, depending on what gesture was made to her). While constantly giving trouble to Leon, who always falls for Ada's manipulation and seduction, she is also known to have saved his ass a few times and he certainly wouldn't be alive without her intervention. Maybe she wouldn't be either if she had taken that shot from Annette Birkin in Racoon City, which Leon ended up taking to save her.

Ada is a curious character: although her heart is cold most of the time, which she obviously doesn't let on because she is a stealthy viper that waits in the shadows, that is always disguising and transmitting an image of someone that she is not, there are a few brief moments and flashes where we can sense that there is some humanity and fire left in her heart. There is a constant ambivalence going on in Ada's feelings. She symbolizes chaos in the form of a woman, with all the hormones on the surface, but which she channels and manages her energy in the form of a pheromone to do her job well. The fact that she is still emotionally involved is something that we can see that bothers her a lot. She does not hide her dissatisfaction with herself for allowing to be carried away for a brief moment by the company of Leon Kennedy. It is something that Ada tries to combat and pathologically eliminate from her day-to-day life given the level of professionalism, demand with herself and the state of constant vigilance she needs, as practically everyone is or will be Ada's enemy: she cheats bad guys and good guys, her allies and enemies alike, mainly by refusing to play by the rules of both sides.

As everything about Ada is a mystery, until today we don't know exactly what is her main motivation. Her name is possibly not even the real one, we don't even know that. Ada is stealthy in absolutely every aspect of her persona and the only moments we can discover something about her is when she risks her life for something or someone. In these rare occasions we can observe some real honesty in her actions and expressions, because Ada is very cautious and does not like to expose herself to risks that she cannot have some kind of control. Most of the time Ada is an actress: when her life isn't at the razor's edge, which is when the various masks she wears momentarily fall away, Ada is Resident Evil's most underhanded, dangerous, and unpredictable character. And that's what I find fascinating about her.

Since the first Resident Evil 2 Ada has always represented the certainty that something above average and predictable could happen. The constant backstabbing of her contractors, the fact that she plays both sides at once and ultimately screws up both, ends in something that over time we've become trained to expect. But not necessarily understand the reason.

Unlike all other Resident Evil characters, Ada Wong is ambiguous. All the others have very defined and transparent traits and personalities, except Ada. When asked about my evaluation of her, according to the moral compass, I always answer that Ada is not a heroine or anti-heroine, as many tend to consider her. For me, she is closer to a villain, given the degree of individualism and what she is capable of doing to achieve her goal (including sacrificing innocent lives). But that doesn't mean that it will be something she will do either, because Ada's goal always goes to page two, it can change abruptly and that's one more reason why I don't think of Ada as altruistic.

Her past is dark and what little we know is about her involvement with criminal organizations, where she was trained to be the expert thief and assassin that she is. Ada, in certain ways, reminds me a little of Natasha Romanoff (Marvel's Black Widow) and Selina Kyle (DC's Catwoman). Someone who has the physical and behavioral repertoire of the two, but much less attached to moral values. Natasha and Selina, while capable of doing problematic things, are characters that have become milder with the passage of time. Ada has always been and continues to be a sphinx: “decipher me or I'll devour you”. And she devours without pity.

As ridiculous as that sounds, the exception to all her coldness and calculation was helping the young rookie Leon Kennedy. There is certainly a story, antecedents that can help us understand why Ada, this person who does not reveal her identity, origin or any other data from the past, became who she is. But she doesn't reveal information that could be used against her, which obviously includes personal information. To be honest, I hope Capcom keeps omitting information as much as possible to protect the mystique and mystery that surrounds Ada. She is like that red flag, that highly sensual woman who we know is going to use and leave us in the gutter, but who is attractive in such a way that we are stupidly hypnotized by her. Many men (and probably women too) must have taken risks with Ada and fallen prey to her. And we are well aware that some of them did not live to tell the tale. Leon, I repeat, is the exception, not the rule.

Having said that, how could I associate Ada with the franchise's homeland saviors like Chris, Jill, Claire, and Leon? That's not possible. Just as it is not possible for me to associate her, in any dimension, with Albert Wesker. Wesker has become the franchise's most recurring and powerful villain, but next to Ada, he's far too predictable. Wesker's biggest problem has always been his inflated ego: he was someone who always had too much confidence in his abilities. Ada, on the contrary, would never do that, because it would leave her exposed and more susceptible to mistakes. Wesker, as we know, is a chatterbox, another classic narcissist who loves to hear his own voice. Ada hates gossip. Lots of talk and little action makes Ada someone who wants to kick your ass. She doesn't waste time with promises and speaks only what is necessary, according to the plans she has. Ada can be an extremely sociable and communicative person, but only If it is necessary to her ultimate goal. Besides, she is not interested in your opinion, in what you have to say. She doesn't give a shit. Ada can give you undivided attention as long as she needs some information from you, that she hopes will slip between your lips. She will be your lover and confidant until she gets what she really needs from you. The second game in the franchise, for example, made that very clear.

Ada is as narcissistic as Wesker, but unlike him, she is not a megalomaniac. She has no glimpses or ideals of greatness and, for this reason, even though Wesker has developed, acquired superhuman strength and speed, I have always considered him inferior to Ada as someone to be feared. Wesker is easy to read, as he is overly confident and tries to hold his own in strength. Ada doesn't have the same physical ability and skill as him, but she has plans B, C, D and Z up her sleeve should they be needed. If hypothetically it was Ada who had been in Wesker's place on the show, maybe things would have been much, much worse than they were. The damage would be much greater in my opinion, analyzing her psychological profile. Lucky for the protagonists of the series that she is not very interested in that. Being the central villain or Leon's girlfriend? That’s nothing: this is too predictable, boring. It's anti-Ada. Ada is the open element of the series, whom Capcom can always turn to if they want experimentation and introduce a new, unexpected element.

Ada's charm and beauty, which are also visible, is just the surface of a much deeper and complex character that still has an abyss of unexplored depth. When we met Ada, we were immediately enchanted by her adventures, all dressed in a beautiful tight red dress (accompanied by some black clothing, always Ada's favorite colors) and wearing heels that god knows how she manages to walk, climb and deliver the absurd martial blows she is proficient with. Ada is probably a character with a horrible past, full of traumas and scars (she has already hinted that this is the case and, frankly, for someone who has done the things she has done, she is certainly not someone perfectly balanced, psychologically speaking). But this is the central question of her personality and apparently also her biggest villain: the sporadic and rare moments of hesitation or internal conflicts generate frustration, visible in her facial expressions.

Ada has always been very well crafted, both in the old games, newer and movies as well. Although I am only a fan of the survival horror games, the fact that Ada is present in newer productions always makes me curious to know what she is possibly doing. She is very attractive in the sense of latent potential, which can be decisive in taking the plot out of the ordinary and guaranteeing moments of great entertainment, adrenaline and satisfaction. And that's why, among all the characters in the franchise, she is my favorite.

Corvid greetings!

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Neil Gaiman's DEATH: The character that transcended Sandman

"I'm not merciful or blessed. I'm just me. I've got a job to do and I do it... when the first living thing existed, I was there. Waiting. When the last living thing dies, my job will be finished. I'll put the chairs on the tables, turn out the lights and lock the universe behind me when I leave." (Death)

Hello my dears. I am the Raven who speaks to you.

This brief video aims to talk a little about the character that, in particular, made me start to have a greater appreciation for Neil Gaiman as a writer. It is the anthropomorphic version of the greatest of our certainties, of what makes us all equal, since it will always come to each of us, sooner or later. I speak, of course, of Death.

Of course, Neil Gaiman wasn't the first person to convert humanity's greatest certainty, fear and taboo into an anthropomorphic being. Portrayals of death as an entity are millenary and its aspects reveal a great diversity of interpretations, since it, as well as existence, has always been an ontological issue of the human race, something that we put ourselves to reflect (or avoid dealing with, thinking about or we delegate the explanation to mythological figures). It affects us from the moment we discover it in early childhood, from the awareness of being in the world. Before anyone portrays it or creates some version of death, we all experience it in an individual and collective sense, because even before our final moment, the unexpected encounter, we will accompany its visit to humans, beings and things we love. And such encounters that we witness will mark us. It could be with a little plant, an insect, the first pet we lost or loved ones. Sooner or later death will always show up and let you know that it’s waiting.

In this sense, death belongs to all who are alive. It is not owned by anyone. And all the people who conceptually tried to explain it directly or everything associated with it did so in the sense of building some kind of knowledge and/or giving face to something that, paradoxically, presents itself as certainty and mystery at the same time. A Death by Neil Gaiman is yet another allegorical example of something that cannot be summarized or limited to an image, figure, mannerisms or a single biography. She is everywhere and in everyone. And that's precisely why, in my analysis, she was and remains one of the most interesting and popular characters of Sandman, the author's highly acclaimed work.

The comics are unable to contain her. Death transcended it, becoming part of fashion and popular culture because, deep down, this was where she belonged from the beginning. In the pages of Sandman she only took a walk, at the invitation of the author's imagination. And in it Death is captivating, attractive, self-sufficient, determined and overflowing with charm, which is undoubtedly something curious to see because we are talking about a topic that, for most people, is something morbid or very difficult to deal with, even when portrayed the way Gaiman chose, through the image of a beautiful goth girl.

In Gaiman's work, in this anthropomorphic depiction, Death is one of the entities known as the Endless. She is Dream's older sister and the second oldest of them all. The quote that illustrates one of her speeches, which I used at the beginning of this podcast, already makes it quite clear how her principles are organized, what kind of moral compass she has: Death is aware of who and what she is, whether this is clear to us or not. And her motivation is to do what she needs to do, her job, which she takes with the utmost seriousness. Because it is an anthropomorphic representation and is, in this sense, a facet of the human experience, of a living being, Death ends up obviously inheriting traces of Neil Gaiman's psyche and of a collective conscience, of the aspects that are common and we all experience.

For not only being a pure phenomenon, Death was not always the same. In her long history, dating back to the beginning of time, Death's mood and personality has undergone changes. There were ages when she was a deeply melancholy character, who felt that her task was the heaviest of all those the Endless had to carry. Death was already very depressed due to having to carry it alone, which at one point generated so much revolt and repudiation that she stopped doing what she had to do. Yes, she had that choice, she was free to make it. But, as we know, every choice has a consequence.

When everything stopped dying, it didn't take long for chaos to set in and for people to beg her to return to her role, which she did, but not without new impacts and transformations: Death hardened, became cold and arrogant. Although back in action, Death has become somewhat unstable. The ultimate event and experience that got her back on track was one that, until then, she had not previously considered: living. Live a little like a mortal, so that she could reflect and reframe both life and herself. Living it, something she had never done before, Death discovered that there were many things about herself that she still didn't understand well enough to have drawn so many closed and inflexible conclusions. By living, she discovered something that she didn't have the slightest idea that she likes. And rethought the meaning of her existence, being able to face it more naturally. As lighter, I would say.

Death, despite being what she is, has become perhaps the friendliest, most caring and optimistic character in the comics. In my opinion, no other character has these characteristics as sharply as she does, and that is where the fun of the thing lies and also what makes the character remarkable and brilliant: precisely the fact that she moves away from a fatalism supposedly inseparable from her, contained in her own conception. Which, a priori, supposedly would be impossible to remove from her. Believe it or not, Death is very pleasant to follow. It's always nice when she's around. And this can also be explained, equally, due to the rarity of this moments. After all, she only appears twice for everyone: she is always there at the beginning and will be there once more, only at the end. So, while very striking, this aspect of rarity goes a long way toward pulling the spotlight on her when she needs to step up and say hello.

Arguably, Death is the most mature character among the Endless, which makes her take on roles that I, particularly, would say are of an educational nature. In some moments she will be the one who listens to confidences and insecurities. In others, she will be the one who pulls the ear of some of them due to their behavior. And she is aware that she will do so until the end of time, as one thing Death cannot change is the fact that she will someday be the last being that will ever exist. Everyone will leave and in the end only she will be left, she will be alone.

Aesthetically speaking, Death is always presented as a very attractive young woman, with pale skin and casual style - she usually dresses in a black jacket and jeans. In general, the gothic style is always frequent in her, but in a minimalist way, without being too flashy. It's death we're talking about: she's not someone who needs to prove herself, be indiscreet and make a lot of noise.

Two symbols are recurrent in her costumes, both of egyptian origin: there is the Ankh, which she wears hanging on a silver chain around her neck; and there is also the mark on the right eye, which refers to the symbol of the eye of Horus, the Udjat. Neil Gaiman claims that the inspiration for Death was the stylist, model and dancer Cinamon Lou Hadley, a great reference of american goth fashion. And indeed, if you look for images of Cinamon, you will notice the inspiration clearly. Cinamon passed away in 2018, at just 48 years old, a victim of cancer. She didn't have much money to pay for treatment or health insurance, unfortunately. But thanks to Gaiman and Death, she will be remembered for a long, long time. As long as the character lives in people's imagination, Cinamon's memory will also live.

Although Dream is perhaps the character most appreciated by Sandman fans, which is understandable since, in the field of mystery and possibilities, the phenomenon is also rich and practically infinite, Death is the one that attracts me the most due to the seriousness inherent in the questions she addresses when she speaks. With her presence, it is practically impossible for the readers not to be encouraged to reflect on their own lives. This makes us understand that the presence, questions and dilemmas that the character brings us are, essentially, much closer to human reality. In this sense, Death would be, among the Endless, the most humanized character and aware of the human condition, which makes her closer to us, more tactile and less fanciful. Death is concrete and this characteristic is, personally, what I like so much.

She tends to manifest and participate more actively in the human world than the other brothers, who stay most of the time in their own realms. She walks among us now and then living a human life to take stock of her function and the meaning of her existence. She assumes a mortal body every hundred years voluntarily, to re-educate herself. Unlike the role of traditional reapers that we know in common sense, which are skeletal figures with cloaks and scythes whose function is the destruction of life only, Death does not behave in the same way. It is a fact that she reaps, but her function is not limited to that. She also accompanies living beings helping them on the path after life and, at no time, behaves like someone who takes pleasure in killing. She just does what she needs to do, in a light, natural and respectful way. The guilt and anguish she once felt, she no longer feels. Now, she handles her work without moral conflict, understanding that dying is as natural as being born.

As a last point, the question of the transition between life and death is a very important concept to understand the character. The egyptian Ankh symbol around her neck isn't just decorative. In egyptian mythology, the Ankh symbolized eternity and the transformation brought about by death. The Udjat in her eye, which reinforces Death's omnipresence and omniscience, is another striking aspect for us to consider the deep knowledge she has of this passage from one state to another in essence. The Udjat, the all-seeing eye of Horus, gives Death a sense that there is something to be learned from her, which philosophically is very interesting and adds depth to the comics.

Well, this was just an introduction to spark interest in reading. As portrayed in Sandman, to be loved by Death (as a human) is to be doomed. But, as a reader, I guarantee that it is almost impossible not to be fascinated by her. There are psychological explanations for this phenomenon, but I do not intend to address it here so as not to make the subject too extensive. By getting in touch with Sandman, I believe that each one of you will be able to have a perception of what I'm talking about because, as I said previously, Death deep down concerns all of us.

Corvid greetings!