The Power of a Moment
The Power of a Moment
The dynamic in the scene where Sookie and Bill (of True Blood) first kiss triggers a lot of introspection for me. As I've watched the series, I began quite cynical about Bill. Hey, he's a vampire. I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. I've got all the pre-conceptions that you're supposed to have about this dangerous character from the dark side. He's a killer and I don't trust him. Yet, scene after scene, he's demonstrating more honor and compassion than any other male character. He's wizened by time. Approximately 175 years of it. It's given him patience and understanding. When we finally learn about the end of his human life and see him watching his family for the last time, we see that he was a man of deep devotion and that he was utterly heartbroken by losing his attachment to them.
His main rival for Sookie's affection is Sam. Sam is Sookie's boss and he's held a hidden torch for her. Suffering in silence. Because, gee, who knows why? It's not until someone else comes along and gives her attention that he begins to hint of his feelings. Even then, he's indirect. Instead of declaring himself, he suggests that she read his mind. Also, he approaches her when she's weak. Instead of catching her when she's strong and in great spirits. He reaches out for her when she's in need. Seeking something for himself when the focus should be her. (In one scene, right after Sookie's is traumatized, Sam is threatening Bill as some sort of protective statement. Bill responds with something like, "We both know that right now is the time to focus on Sookie and not your need to be territorial." Bill is clearer about putting his own emotional needs aside. Sam is confused about where his needs end and Sookie's needs begin.
This drives me crazy. The Sam character is a nice guy. He's attractive enough. He owns a successful business. So, why can he only reach out to her when she's weak? I want to swat him away like an annoying fly. Bill is consistently there for Sookie when she needs it, but he waits until they are on more solid ground, connecting with each other as equals before broaching the subject of his attraction. He then directly lets her know that he's attracted to her. With no expectations. At one point in their relationship he tells her he won't call on her anymore because she doesn't want him to. As much as he wants to be with her, he would rather walk away than have a dysfunctional relationship. He wants them to meet in the middle, equally compelled, each through their own motivations. He asks before touching her hair. It so sexy when he almost falls back overwhelmed and says, "I can smell the sunshine on you" with an expression of profound loss from being reminded of the sun which he hasn't seen in nearly 150 years. But the connection to these painful feelings doesn't make him sever the connection. He kind of glides away from her with the emotion and as he reaches the edge of it he smoothly rebounds back in to reconnect. It's like a perfect expression of the Push Hands principle in Tai Chi, accepting the energy that comes into you, letting it flow and transform and sending it back out. Sookie moves in and initiates the kiss.
I'm falling for the vampire. The 'dangerous' one.
Juxtapose this to a later scene with Sam. Sam is supposed to be letting Sookie into his car. She turns when he hasn't opened the door and is pinned between him and the car. He says that she's glad he's not reading his mind. When she asks, "Why?", he says, "because then you didn't see this coming." And he swoops in to kiss her. It's not a mutual action. He's practically stealing the kiss. Or forcing one onto her. I'm completely turned off by Sam when he does this. Sam, the decent and caring human being. The "civilized" one.
Who knows where the story line will go and what we'll learn about Sookie, Bill and Sam. Whether it's my original cynicism or my new-found appreciation for Bill which is ultimately affirmed. It's how I experience these juxtapositons that is telling. This is why we like stories. We learn about ourselves.
In the differences between these scenarios lies one of the pieces of humanity we explore with the symbolism of vampires. We are an onmnivorous species. Some of us may have decided to be vegetarians, but as a species, we're predators. Yet, we're also social. More complex socially than most predators. Our attempts at civilizing ourselves seem to be about keeping our predatory nature under control so that we can all benefit from a social living structure. There is a tension between the completely ego-centric, passionate-driven predator in us and the more expansive, reasoned social creature. Leaning too far in either direction isn't fulfilling or sustainable.
Vampires don't symbolically equal death or life any more than humans do. They each represent a potential extreme on a continuum and the most compelling characters, the ones we're seeking in ourselves are the ones that are walking in that middle ground with some semblance of each. We're fine-tuning our sense of a balanced life. It's not that vampires equal life. It may be that Bill equals life. Or a man finding is way to life. He's wended his way through a very long journey. He isn't perfection, but he seems to be recovering from the wounds of life with a deep core strength. While Sam is still too wounded and lost, he seems more like someone who's soul is struggling to regain it's footing. Ironically, our un-dead character seems more vibrant than our living character.
Perhaps I'm drawn to the irony, enthralled by Bill, because I'm longing for that deep core strength to be what encompasses my life. Not to hide the wounds and vulnerabilities, but to give them the peace that they need for healing that only comes from feeling safe. Back in that scene of the first kiss, what I see in Bill's character is a certain kind of power. The power to be in the moment. To let the moment be as enormous or as inconsequential as it is without trying to make it something else. You see it as he, who has the power and agility to move faster than any human, let's the moment unfold slowly. He savors both the anticipation and the melancholy. The now and the memories that the now evokes. It's his capacity to use his power to let the whole truth of the moment be experienced that I find him irresistable. These are the times when most of us buckle under discomfort and create evasions. Yes, he's a larger than life action hero that can save the damsel in distress from mortal danger. More than that, for me, though, he's the protector of being in the moment, letting whatever truth is in the moment be experienced. That's a different kind of hero, of which we see so little. Bill seems to be a rare specimen of fearlessnes when it comes to intimacy.
Well, until the passion of the moment brings out his fangs. So, maybe he's not perfectly enlightened, after all. He does have something that pulls him out of the moment. The True Blood writers are good at making sure we don't wander too far off into LaLaLand before giving us a reality check about what Bill is. (well, as much of a reality check as you can have in a fantasy story, anyway.) They're such buzz-kills.
So, what was that expression on his face as he turned away from Sookie? Fear? Shame? Was he hoping to keep his dangerous side hidden from her? Is he worried he'll hurt her? Or that she'll reject him? What's eating at his power base? Let's talk about that next time....



