Twilight of the Gods

by blueenvelopes

An unsuspecting woman rescues a Lord of the Sith in more ways than one. He's reeling from a major defeat and out of favor with his fickle Master. And now, for the first time, the erstwhile Anakin Skywalker, now Lord Vader, begins to question the life he has convinced himself to accept. Maybe it is time to let the past die. But can he truly move on?

28. Chapter 28 story notes to part 2

Thanks for reading. I don't have a lot to say about Part 2, but here it is:

I am still trying to make sense of what The Rise of Skywalker (and frankly, all of the sequel trilogy) did to the original trilogy. I honestly hate Episode 9. I won't make these notes a movie review, but the voice of Anakin telling Rey 'to bring balance to the Force like I did' doesn't work for me. No one brought any balance to the Force after ROTJ. Sure, Vader and the Emperor were dead, the Rebellion and the Jedi prevailed, and the Light was back on the galactic scene again. But that's not balance. That's the Light winning. And just like when the Dark Side wins, it doesn't connote balance. It's just a temporary status quo until the other side of the Force recovers to assert itself once again. You know . . . because the Light rises and Darkness meets it. Therein lies the vicious cycle of revolution that has typified the Star Wars narrative throughout all eras.

Bringing back Darth Sidious was a cheap and easy way to create a new big baddie everyone can hate. Not my preferred plot device, but okay. It was how they handled the reemergence of Sidious that bothered me. I would much rather have seen the First Order ally with the Resistance to fight Sidious. Have the Dark Side and the Light Side find an uneasy truce to together save the galaxy. Now, that's balance. And, frankly, that's where I assumed Episode 9 was heading. Rey and Kylo would use their Force bond to broker an alliance. Each would come to see the merits of the other as an ally. There would be some mutual respect fostered amid all the mistrust. That is a story for our times. A story of people with widely divergent viewpoints and values meeting in the middle, of people bridging over mistakes and crimes to extend forgiveness, of the ability to step outside your own experience and see life from your enemy's vantage point and realize that their version of the truth might have some validity. That is moral courage in the 21st century. There is no moral courage in standing safely ensconced in your own arena righteously condemning everyone on the other side. In fact, that's probably more counterproductive in the end.

I guess I wanted the sequel trilogy to advance the narrative past the 'Dark versus Light' story of the original trilogy. I wanted the failure of Luke and Leia's attempt to bring back the Jedi and the Old Republic to be revealed as inherently flawed because it ultimately provoked Snoke and the First Order. And then, finally, the galaxy would see that there is a role for both sides of the Force and both political perspectives going forward. Everyone would realize that they need to find a way to coexist.

But Disney wanted a morally pure tale with a self-sacrificing bad guy redeemed to die and their shiny, pretty heroine triumphant like we knew she always would be. It was trite, predictable, and far less effective and hopeful than the first version of that tale from ROTJ. I found the victory pretty joyless because Rey ends up alone with no mentor and just a bunch of books. She's the Star Wars version of a Disney princess only she doesn't get her prince. Now Rey is stuck in the Luke Skywalker role tasked with rebuilding the Jedi Order from scratch and look how well that turned out last time. And is Lord Sidious even dead? Sure, we saw his face melt and he exploded. But he fell down a reactor shaft last time before Death Star II exploded and he survived that. So how are we sure he's really gone this time? And don't get me started on poor Kylo Ren. He didn't even get to explain his change of heart. It was a poor dramatic decision. The melodrama of Star Wars is always whether someone will switch sides from Light to Dark (or vice versa). When that happens, major change always occurs. So when Kylo flips good, he should have had a moment to give his big speech of enlightenment. He also should have been given a chance to help kill Sidious. But no, Rey doesn't need any help. She can do it all herself. I guess that's another girl power thing, but geez . . . let the hero be the hero once in a while, alright? And what better hero to help our heroine than a guy who was once Dark Side himself? Anyhow, Episode 9 is a convoluted mess. I'm still trying to figure out how to deal with it for this story.

Anyhow, back to Twilight of the Gods. For the duel chapter, I watched the Bespin fight a few times and tried to observe it closely. Cloud City has long been my favorite Star Wars fight for the gorgeous set and the big reveal at the end. I've seen it a lot, but still . . . watching it from Vader's perspective was eye opening. I was struck by how deeply thought out the duel is. By how suspenseful it feels. By how well acted it is. Well done, George Lucas et al!

Star Wars is always told from the perspective of the good guys, and the Bespin duel is no different. That's why the camera focuses on Luke losing his hand and not on Vader's reaction. That's why the act feels very intentional—we simply assume the bad guy wants to do harm. What we see in the film is intended to have us view Luke as the untrained, underdog fighting a Sith Lord who is toying with him. We're rooting for Luke, naturally. We are shocked when he's shocked, hurt when he's hurt, worried when he is in peril.

There is a tendency to assume that Vader is in control all of the time—he's not. And that assumption of control leads you to assume that Vader knows what's going to happen next—he doesn't. Watching the duel from Vader's perspective showed me how aggressive Luke was time and again. Also, how much forbearance Vader shows. There is no doubt that Vader had multiple opportunities to kill or at least really hurt Luke. But he doesn't. Not until the end, at least.

I wanted to make the amputation a surprise to both men. It's a mistake. I like having my bad guys make mistakes. They are neither omnipotent nor all-powerful. They are just as fallible as the rest of us, even if they don't show it. I also like to explore Vader's insecurities. Sure, the man doesn't lack for confidence, but that does not mean he is confident in every situation, all of the time. No one is. Not even Sith Lords.

In this case, the mask that protects and sustains Vader is a double-edged sword. It promotes his inscrutable, cold demeanor but it impedes his ability to communicate with others. Luke never gets a chance to see his father as a person—he can't see the man behind that mask. The challenge for Astral in Part 3 will be to convince Luke to look for that man.

Star Wars lore always has bad guys taking on new identities. First, he's Anakin, but then he's Vader. First, we meet Kylo, but then he's Ben. It's a trope aided and abetted by props like masks and black outfits and what color sword you're holding. But I want to reject all that. In my mind, Darth Vader has always been Anakin Skywalker. He's the same man, scarred and evolved from his youthful self. All along, much of Anakin's personality and values remain even if they are not overt. But if you know to look for them—they are persistent. There is goodness/Light in Darth Vader, just like there is evil/Darkness in Anakin Skywalker. That inner moral conflict is the meaning of the man. I hope that's coming across in this story. Maybe some readers might think that is a stretch, but you have to remember that Anakin was raised a Jedi to suppress his emotions. All that Jedi discipline kept things in check for the most part. But of course, Vader can never suppress his strong emotions for long. He bottles them up until they explode from time to time. Vader has his Emo Kylo Ren type moments. They're just behind closed doors.

As an aside, I mistakenly thought those ideas of inborn conflict were the best explanation for why the sequel trilogy savaged the character of Luke Skywalker. Luke trying to kill his nephew was Luke's pent-up Darkness asserting itself. He was afraid of what he saw brewing and he thought he could kill it to prevent it. That's the Dark Side in Luke Skywalker that he can't quite suppress. It's the Vader in him. And it explains why Luke would retire to his island to die—because in the end, he did become his father all over again in a fashion. And that felt like failure to Luke. I thought that Luke ending the Jedi Order would be a good thing because it would make way for Kylo and Rey to start a new Force ideology with the best of the Jedi and the best of the Sith. But no . . . Light Side for the win again . . . sigh . . . long live the Jedi Order . . . sigh . . . I am so over it.

I guess it's against this stark backdrop of good guys and bad guys that I like to muddy the waters. I like to focus on the Darkness in my Light characters and the Light (however dimmed) that persists within my Dark heroes. I delight in showing weak characters who make strong, bold moves and conventionally powerful characters who are vulnerable. If it's a blueenvelopes story, then everyone is both a hero and a villain in some respect. Everyone thinks they are in the right, naturally.

Twilight of the Gods—the Gotterdammerung—is the final opera of Wagner's Ring Cycle. In the opera, the Twilight of the Gods means the destruction of the Gods and the triumph of man, the destruction of Valhalla (the realm of the Gods), and the fall of the very flawed king of the Gods Wotan whose missteps and misdeeds have sown the seeds of his demise. Wotan dies and brings everyone down with him. Earth kind of reboots at the end and the Rhine overflows, and we get back to the same blazing E-flat major chord that begins the Ring cycle in Das Rheingold.

But colloquially, 'Gotterdammerung' is a stand-in for the creative destruction of the universe. The catastrophic end to a regime or to an era that ushers in enormous, irrevocable chance. Now, anyone who has seen the sequel trilogy knows that NOTHING HAS CHANGED. Therein lies the problem, in my opinion. Star Wars desperately needs a Gotterdammerung to keep it fresh and interesting. To get beyond the trap of nostalgia and retelling tales and concepts that were better expressed previously. My version of Darth Vader gets it. He wants to be the Gotterdammerung—the Chosen One who will throw out a thousand generations of Jedi-Sith ideology and warfare and make something new and better. To scrap the old ways and build upon their wreckage for the future. Plagueis wants this too. He pitches their alliance to destroy Sidious and groom Luke for a galactic Gotterdammerung courtesy of the Skywalker family.

Cresta Cole, Darth Sidious' longtime on-again, off-again secret wifey, is back from other tales to make a few cameos. She's pretty much the hooker with a heart of gold character who has a mouth like a sailor. Cresta was originally conceived as my version of the Underworld woman who the Emperor has a past with—motivated by old rumors concerning the aborted Star Wars Underworld tv show. Cresta's past with Sheev Palpatine as told in Red is not a great story, but it was fun to write. I liked Cresta's 'tell it like it is' character so much that she appears in Fifth Wife and Fulcrum Part Two as well. She's rough, crass and unfailingly kind. She is also a flashpoint of conflict between Darth Sidious and his disapproving, meddling Master Darth Plagueis.

Part 2 has deepened the relationship between Astral and Vader. I personally love how random and ordinary Astral is. There's nothing extreme about her—from her background to her politics. She's accomplished but not a blazing achiever. She also comes from a career—art—that is wholly different from the usual political/military/Force background of the usual Star Wars hero. She's the farthest thing from a Mary Sue that you can get.

Star Wars heroes love to fight. 'I fight anything and everything' Rey is just the latest iteration on the archetype. In Star Wars, you usually define yourself by what you fight against. Poe has some line in Episode 9 about how 'good people will fight' because that's what good people do in Star Wars—they fight against the evil Empire/First Order/Final Order/bad guys. And I get it—it's not called Star WARS for nothing. But not all heroes fight. Luke famously will refuse to fight his father. It's a great moment. And that's the sort of hero who can get through to Lord Vader. Not someone who will fight him, but someone who engages him in ways other than conflict. You don't have to swing a sword or use the Force to wield power. Violence and fighting are not the only means to contribute. There are other ways to be courageous as Astral will demonstrate.

Now, frankly, people like Astral can be hard for a lot of Type A power and achievement people to understand. The driven among us can tend to dismiss people without our same mindset, without our commitment to titles and LinkedIn entries and our penchant for self-improvement and hierarchy. I have had this conversation with more than one single career woman—my own sister included—who complain about the wives of their colleagues and bosses. It goes something like this: 'She's a teacher/She was an event planner/She never worked a real job ever. What does he see in her? She's accomplished nothing.' The very question presumes that your character is the sum of your resume and your self-worth is your income. It also presumes that romantic attachments have the logic and analysis of a business decision.

He didn't hire her as co-counsel, he chose her for a wife, I recently remarked to a frustrated 40ish single friend. I know the couple she was bitching about. The wife is pretty, sweet, and unfailingly positive. That's attractive, I pointed out to my honestly baffled friend. Not every guy wants to come home to an overly critical, hard to please, challenging sort. Some just want easy companionship in a pretty package. But she's just not his equal, came my friend's insistent rejoinder. Again, her assumption is that a woman increasing her professional cred makes her a more attractive romantic partner. And that's not always how it works. Plus, not everyone wants a romantic partner they have to compete with.

I guess in many ways, Padme is more of the equal to Vader. Senator Padme was a leader. A principled woman probably full of economic and social policy theories. The kind of woman very comfortable at a podium and before a crowd. She's confident, polished, and self-assured. Astral has those qualities too but she has earned them over time. They didn't come effortlessly. She's more an academic than anything. Probably an introvert. Less logical and more intuitive in her intelligence. Astral didn't set out to solve the galaxy's problems, she focused on culture. Until recently, she was the Uncle Owen type who didn't get involved. She generally would prefer to be an observer of change, not a protagonist for it. Padme, of course, would be in the thick of the action. Probably a founding member of the Rebel Alliance with Mon Mothma. Because Padme is the fighter type that Astral is not.

I truly believe that had Padme lived, she would have grown to hate and fear her husband. Even had they had the chance to hash things out in private, there would be no lasting reconciliation. I just don't see a woman as committed to democracy and the Old Republic values as Padme getting comfortable with the Imperial dictatorship. Nor do I see her understanding Anakin's religious inquisition against the Jedi. It's one thing for her to look the other way when he kills sandpeople. It's another thing to condone Order 66. I think Padme would have ended up leaving Vader and fleeing with the children. There was never going to be a happily ever after for those two.

Of course, Padme met Anakin at his youthful best self, watched him struggle and ultimately fall. Years later, Astral meets him as his worst self and sees him struggle to retain what's left of his humanity and his hope. She's helping him rise. Do not discount how feared and hated Vader would be at this time. Sure, we the viewers know he was once good, but Astral doesn't have that knowledge. Most people would have thought she was enormously self-delusional.

In my mind, Padme and Astral are very different and they look different as well. Padme would probably still be walking around in the Star Wars version of vintage 1980s Christian Lacroix and fluffy Oscar de la Renta. Whereas almost everything Astral owns comes from The Row, and she lives in the Stella McCartney cape gowns that are so popular with all their variety. Astral is sleek and chic to the point of sparseness. Her look is far more stylized than pretty. It's also the sort of understated presentation that can seem plain by comparison. But it fits the understated art critic woman who wears it. Still, like Padme, Astral is well educated and posh. She unconsciously projects the cultural elite background she belongs too. She's very much a lady in her manners and mannerisms.

As always, this story presents Anakin's version of events and his perspective on the past. It's far from the canon version of events. But I'm pretty subversive about my Star Wars. I like to look at these characters and stories from a different point of view. Not necessarily to change the original, but to flesh it out and enjoy it more. Anything good ought to withstand a little scrutiny. This is a mature story written for adults who can appreciate the nuances of good and bad and the concept of an unreliable narrator who is defensive and guilty. Far too many Star Wars fans seem to take everything characters say in the movies at face value, like it's a Pilgrim's Progress type morality play. And, yeah, that's probably how most of it is intended. But in blueenvelopes fan fiction what you hear on screen is only part of the story.

Part 1 introduced our heroine Astral to Lord Vader's life. Part 2 introduced his creator/father Darth Plagueis into the mix. For Part 3, enter Luke Skywalker. All the major players are on the scene now, and they will begin to dance around each other. We're heading to where we've always been heading . . . the Death Star throne room.