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#fifth-tea is nif-tea
critter-casey · 3 months
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“50 is Nif-tea” (digital drawing/digital water color) — CW
Happy “Fifth-tea-ith” Birthday to my wife!!
— And my best to all the fellow tumblrs who are 50 and older who are just immature enough to still enjoy goofy cartoons and good bad puns.
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hunxi-after-hours · 3 years
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On my fifth rerun of the NiF/LYB and rereading it: I have strong feelings about how JY Finds Out. In the book, JY rushes to find MCS but literally gets thrown off his horse (?) because he hits the brakes on his impulse and needs to process. But he doesn't cry. In the book, his main concern is MCS's health (+awareness of the weight of his newfound status as crowned prince), but in the show there's a heavier emphasis on beating himself over not recognizing Lin Shu sooner? How do you feel about it?
ooooo so it’s been a hot second (six years) since I’ve read the novel so take what I say with that disclaimer, but I think to me what stands out the most isn’t necessarily the differences between show and novel, but the similar ways Xiao Jingyan responds in both
the emotional register of the reveal is different from novel to adaptation, that’s for sure—in the book, Xiao Jingyan is literally at... tea? just chatting with Yan Que & co. when Yan Que casually drops that Lin Xie’s jianghu pseudonym was Mei Shinan (i.e. the name both Mei Changsu and Consort Jing gave for Mei Changsu’s father). In that moment, Mei Changsu/Lin Shu’s double li(v)es fall into perfect overlay for Xiao Jingyan, and he’s stunned, left breathless with the pure, awful simplicity of the truth. He rushes to confront Mei Changsu about it, then stops short, thinks about it—falls off his horse—and returns to his manor.
Why doesn’t he confront Mei Changsu about it? Why doesn’t he go to Lin Shu and demand an account, all tearful reunion and angry joy?
In the show, they add that confrontation with Xia Jiang before the Liang Emperor himself. The stakes are heightened—Xiao Jingyan has not only been slapped in the face with a truth he has been denying himself, but must also keep it secret from his suspicious, murder-happy father. As a result, the scene of the reveal is not only the culmination of the show’s longest-held secret, but also the demonstration of Xiao Jingyan’s growth and development in conduct and governance. The Xiao Jingyan of episode two would not have been able to perform so persuasively and flawlessly in front of his father the emperor; heck, even the Xiao Jingyan of the early thirties, faced with the double hits of Wei Zheng’s capture and his mother’s mistreatment, doesn’t handle the situation with anywhere near the same degree of poise. Meanwhile, the Xiao Jingyan that conducts himself with measured restraint and controlled passion in episode 50 navigates the situation deftly despite the storm in his own heart.
And then afterwards, as the two of them depart the throne room, still shaky from how close the two of them had come to total destruction… Xiao Jingyan helps Mei Changsu over the threshold, and then watches Mei Changsu walk away.
I spend a lot of time thinking about the fact that we never get to see Xiao Jingyan and Lin Shu’s reunion scene. Not that we never get to see them reunited, but that we never see the first time they stand before each other with full knowledge of the secrets and lies between them laid bare. If there’s a yelling match or tearful exclamations, we don’t get to hear it; if there are playful punches or tightly-held hugs, we don’t get to see it. The next time we see them in the same room together, news of Xie Yu’s death has reached the capital, and they have fallen into an easy rhythm around each other. 苏先生便如同我本人, Xiao Jingyan says to Liyang zhang-gongzhu. Su-xiansheng is as myself—whatever you can say to me, you can say to him.
Over the course of the narrative, whether it’s novel or show, the relationship between Xiao Jingyan and Mei Changsu develops into one of deep knowing and understanding, to the point where the Lin Shu reveal only makes sense to Xiao Jingyan: of course they understand each other so well, working in seamless concert, perfectly complementing each other’s argumentation. I should have known, Jingyan says to his mother in the show. And that is all he ever says on the matter.
There’s no messy confrontation, not systematic dismantling of lies. No cold-shouldering, no snide sniping, no apologies, no forgiveness. There is almost no… fall-out at all, beyond the heightened tension of the moment of reveal, and then the emotional anguish that Xiao Jingyan reels back in and suffers alone. And somehow, I don’t feel robbed at all; it feels strangely right that these two men who are continually defined by their noble causes and greater purposes manage to set even this aside, dissolving the intensity of their inner turmoil into meaningful looks, wistful gazes, tears shed in private. Xiao Jingyan spends the entirety of the narrative learning how to become an emperor, and an emperor—or an ideal one, at any rate—is someone who puts the public before the personal, the greater good before his own desires, and both the book and the show do a phenomenal job in showing the immense cost of such nobility for Xiao Jingyan.
the first-person imperial pronoun used in 《琅琊榜》 is 朕 zhen, but in some eras, it’s 寡人 guaren -- literally “the bereaved one,” because one who stands so high must stand alone.
oh, I’m rambling now—how do I feel about the differences in adaptation? I mean… I really, really do love the show, because in many ways, the show feels like a second draft of the novel. The fact that the producers hired Hai Yan, the author herself, to be the scriptwriter for the show meant that she really understood the workings of her own plot and the journeys of her own characters, and knew best in strategically revising and excising for adaptation. The show, in many ways, feels like a more streamlined and narratively-efficient version the story. Which isn’t to say that the novel is unworthy—the novel has much more time and space to linger in description and populate an intriguing cast of minor characters that enrich the thematic landscape of the story (Princess Jingning and Nie Duo come immediately to mind), but the show really owns my heart and soul.
That, and I think Xiao Jingyan deserves a good cry. Just look at the man. Someone give him a hug already, I’ve been outraged for six years and counting.
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