Those Memento Mori Monologues (2/11/97)

I wish that the powers that be would re-think their use of monologues.
Seldom are they entirely effective.
You know the speeches I'm talking about:  A character ponders
something weighty, typically to him- or herself (though XF has
produced some scenes where characters seem to trade monologues with
each other).  The speeches are cryptic, the images and words go beyond
the character's normal conversational repertoire, and the syntax can
be convoluted.
None of these things are problems in and of themselves.  Characters in
TXF may possess knowledge that they will not or cannot speak of
directly; being cryptic may be appropriate.  And I certainly wouldn't
want to discourage vivid images, rich vocabularies, and creative use
of language!  But so often, these monologues fall flat.
(See, I do like images: you can picture that as a souffle falling flat
in a sad heap, or as a person slipping on a banana peel and falling on
his butt. :) )
Monologues that haven't worked for me include most of those
pseudo-profound summaries they used to tack on to the end of episodes;
the speeches of all the vision people in Blessing Way; the exchange of
speeches between CSM and JS in Herrenvolk; and (sadly) Scully's diary
entries in MM, especially the first (more on this in a moment).
Monologues that have worked for me include Scully's journal entries in
Dod Kalm; CSM's "box of chocolates" speech; and the poem in TFWID.
Here's how the conversation might have gone if a student had brought
that first entry to me at the writing center where I used to work:
>"For the first time I feel time like a heart beat, the seconds pumping in my
>breast like a reckoning, the numinous mysteries that once seemed so
>distant and unreal threatening clarity in the presence of a truth
>entertained not in youth, but only in its passage. I feel these words as
>if their meaning were weight being lifted from me. Knowing that you will
>read them and share my burden as I have come to trust no other. That you
>should know my heart, look into it, finding there the memory and experience
>that belong to you, that are you, is a comfort now as I feel the tethers
>loose and the prospects darken for the continuance of a journey that began
>not so long ago. And which began again with a faith shaken and
>strengthened by your convictions. If not for which, I might never have
>been so strong now as I cross to face you and look at you incomplete,
>hoping that you will forgive me for not making the rest of the journey
>with you."    -Scully
Me: Hey, you've got a fantastic start here.  This character seems to
be saying something that is very important to her.  But I'm a bit
confused when it comes to "the journey".  Could you explain that?
"Student": Well, she's saying that it's a comfort to her to finally
share her soul with him, without reservation.  She's still so young,
but her life may be ending.  Her life almost ended once before, but
his belief in her enabled her to live; his beliefs have changed her in
so many ways, leading her to questions, and knowledge, and strength
that she might not have found otherwise.  She'll need that strength
when she tells him he'll have to continue without her.
Me: Yeah, that is important.  I wasn't sure if the journey was her
life, or was their work together.
St: Well... yeah... I guess it could be either.
Me: Well, you might want to pick one or the other.  Now, I'm
wondering, why didn't you write something along the lines of what you
just told me?
St.: But... that would be too plain.  It needs to be fancier.
Me: Mmm-hmm.  You know, you might want to experiment with both a plain
version and a fancy version, and read them out loud to see which one
has more emotional impact.
Anyway, you get the point.  Don't even get me started on the numinous
mysteries.  If they were numinous and became clear, are they still
mysteries?  And how does the presence of a truth create a clear
mystery?
It's not that this is downright bad writing.  It's that's it's more
clumsy and stilted than it needs to be; it would have more flow and
more impact if it were simpler.
Compare it to the second entry: "Cancer is science's demonic
possession."  Not only does that metaphor capture an important
component of the reason we fear cancer, the content and style seem
natural for Scully.
Actually, I would rather they had chosen to use a poem for the first
entry, if they decided they *had* to be mysterious.  Obscurity is not
necessarily bad in a poem.  Robert Browning's "Paracelsus" in TFWID
certainly wan't transparent.  But poetry works differently (at least
to me).  And if the whole of English-language poetry doesn't contain a
single poem appropriate for the predicament of telling someone you
love that you may be dying, I'm sure Paula G. could've written them a
good one, tailor-made for the episode!
Anyway, we all have our little issues that jerk us out of the flow of
an episode.  For some it's DD's occasionally-tired delivery, for
others it's Scully's impractical footwear (love those boots! :) ), and
for me, it's awkward prose.  Thanks for letting me unburden!
L.O.
(the psychologist formerly known as EP)

but here's something I did like about the episode...

Since I wrote a post yesterday ripping on one aspect of the ep (yet
more of those overblown monologues, which were particular
disappointing here because what Scully was trying to say was so
important), I thought I'd write a positive one today.
In addition to some really moving performances, and a return of many
long-ignored conspiracy threads, there were also some visuals that
tied this ep back to previous ones.
My favorite was Scully's radiation treatment.  It was such a strange,
striking image (and medically correct, according to a poster
yesterday).  But what I really liked was the way it paralleled
Mulder's Black Cancer scene.
On the one hand, we have Scully: in a bright white room, swathed in
white, surrounded by white machines.  The clear plastic armor
restrains her head, her nose pokes through it a little.  The machine
overhead beams radiation at her, trying to kill her cancer (or was
it?).
On the other, Mulder:  In a very dark place, in all senses of the
word.  Chicken wire restrains his head, his nose poking through it a
little.  The machine overhead pours goo on him, infecting him with the
Black Cancer (or does it?).
The mirror image is repeated at the end of the episode during the hug,
with Scully all in white and Mulder all in black (thanks to another
poster whose name I don't remember for pointing that out!).
The other visual that recalled the past was Scully waking up in the
hospital.  She sees a figure silhouetted against bright white light,
of the sort that she and others have seen during their abductions.
The figure leans over her.  She's frightened, but when she realizes
it's the doctor , she chalks it up to her nightmare.  We're supposed
to see a contrast between the bad dream and the good doctor.  But then
we find that the doctor works for the bad guys... maybe she had seen
him leaning over her that way, in a similar situation, before?
L.O.
(aka EP)