Fiction Informing My Truth

I haven’t gotten around to any of the book review posts I’ve started and abandoned or thought of and didn’t start.  I have trouble writing proper reviews unless I dislike something.  When I dislike a book (or movie) I really pick apart the particulars of why it didn’t work for me, but the ones I want to talk about are often the ones I love, and then I find myself saying over and over, It was great.  So great.  I love it.  I love it so much.  You just have to read it and we’ll talk about it.  I do this because I’m kind of a book evangelist, wanting to spread the news and shout about how much I love a book, with more fervor than substance – like evangelical religion as opposed to a scholarly approach.

Often, the books that really get to me fiction-wise are the ones that match up to something I feel about my life, and give me an exciting illustration of something real that benefits from having a fantastical mirror held up to it.  (This is also why there are more Death Goddess posts in the future.  Really OLD fiction works, too.)

A couple of people have already heard me talking about Sergei Lukyanenko’s Watch series (Night Watch, Day Watch, Twilight Watch, and Last Watch) and the two films based on them (Night Watch and Day Watch.  There probably won’t be any more, as it seems the director has defected to the US.), and how it’s so amazingly relevant to my perception of life and shit and wow, man, I just can’t even TELL you . . . .  but those conversations were brief, and took place during Drinking Time.  I decided I’d get more out of writing it during Sober Time, and without interruptions.  Although we should all get together at my place sometime to watch the movies back to back.  They’re just really good.  I don’t normally get into fantasy much, but these work for me somehow, so I’ll start by giving you some background:

In the Watch universe, some people turn out to be different from the general population.  They’re Others, and at some point in their lives they find out by manifesting some strange power.  There are shape-shifters, vampires, sorcerers, things like that.  When you find out that you are an Other, you align with the Dark Ones or Light Ones.  They’ve always existed, but have a long-standing truce that balances the two sides and limits how they interact with the rest of the world.  The Night Watch is made up of Light Ones keeping an eye on the Dark Ones and vice-versa.  To give that synopsis makes it all sound like tired old urban fantasy stuff, and maybe it would be for you, but like I said the genre usually doesn’t do anything for me but this one does.  Maybe it’s the writing, or maybe it’s that I’m impressed with the way it’s all brought to life in the films.  Here’s the thing that gets to me in such a way that I end up going on about it to any captive audience I might have:

They’re not good and evil.  Just dark and light.*

In the Watch universe, Light Ones are the ones that intervene in human affairs to benefit the humans.  They feed off of people’s happiness and fulfill needs.  Dark Ones are selfish.  They use humans to further their own goals and feed their personal power.

So, imagine a scene from my own life.  A girl dressed in white is bent over, held down, crying out in a voice far beyond words.  A dark man with a stern expression stands over her, holding her down with a firm grip on her neck.  As each cry subsides, he strikes her again, harder, demanding that she take more.  The girl raises her ass up higher to meet every blow, and finally collapses gasping for breath on the floor as the man praises her for being such a good submissive whore.

So, which is the Dark One?

Obviously it’s the man, since he might actually be hurting that poor girl and after she collapses under his abuse he’s still talking to her in such a debased manner.  Wrong!  If you thought that was it, you were only looking at the surface, the image you’ve been trained to see by your exposure to all the bullshit our society hands us.**  As Patti Smith says, Outside of society!  If you’re looking, that’s where you’ll find me.  I don’t live in that version of sexual expression.  At least, I don’t when I’m at my truest point of feeling.  Allow me to explain:

I mentioned earlier having a Potential Sir.  I’m going to leave off the Potential part of that now, because my screening process has not kicked Him out yet.  I don’t often find people I want to expose my desires to, since they often turn out to be like the two Bad Dates I’ve talked about here.  Anything I have to offer, they only want to use for their own amusement or worse, to prove to them that women are just toys or are naturally meant to be handled in a domineering way.  Domineering meaning that they need to control others to make themselves feel strong, whereas Dominant means that the person identifying as such has so much control and understanding that He/She can appreciate and satisfy the submissive partner.  (I say this not just as someone with submissive tendencies that are difficult to satisfy, but also as someone with dominant tendencies that with the right partner can become quite intense.)

Lest I digress too far, I’ll get back to the scene I was describing earlier.  And this, this, has a whole great stonking lot to do with Sir, and why I want to call Him that and that alone right now.  And it relates back to my love of the Watch books and films.  You see, I am very clearly a Dark One (or would be if I had actual magical powers and lived in a fictional world).  Sir is a Light One.  How did I figure this out?  Well, my first husband (Death Goddesses I post) was very much Dark.  I still honestly believe that the reason it all went to Hell was nothing to do with drugs or my youth or any of that so much as it did the fact that his basic nature was entirely selfish.  My pleasure never drove him nearly as much as his idea of owning me did.  In contrast, I am constantly amazed by how much Sir actually wants me to be happy and satisfied.  I’ve already laid down the You Cannot Own Me But I Will Belong To You If You Give Me X, Y And Z rules.  And so far (a short time, I admit, and I do have it clear in my mind that it could still all go wrong) He has given me everything and not crossed my boundaries.

That is how it works, and that is why if you need to see a victim and an aggressor you are blind, and that is why my Dark/Light understanding of Lukyanenko’s stories informs my explanation of my sexual needs.  If I were a Dark One, I’d be selfish and always looking to find someone to feed my sense of self and please me above all else.  A Light One would respond to someone’s needs by offering as much of His own energy as possible to satiate them and make the subject’s life richer and better in any way possible.  The part of me that makes me want to submit to spankings and rough handling and rougher sex and words that would seem harsh to some is not just a part that I bring out to make doms happy.  Given my personality and tangled history, I am usually no good at all to self-proclaimed doms who just want to see a submissive female behave herself.  Because I don’t behave; because it’s not just a thing I can use to play with some random dude who likes feeling powerful.  I touched on this last time I talked about spankings – huge difference between dudes who like to see women as submissive and Men who can get into my submissive nature and handle it as it is.  That part of myself that is falling over onto the floor after I’m past the point where I can even form sentences?  That is a deep and very real version of me.  That is why I need kisses and cuddling and gentle talk after I’ve gotten there – I have just allowed something inside of me that is so much an expression of what I am that I usually need to hide it for my own protection out, and it is hidden mainly because it is hungry and it is damn difficult to feed that hunger.

That is my darkness.  My selfishness and my clinging need that latches on to the rare source that can feed it.  When I look like I’m being hurt, or subjugated, I am at my most selfish.  I have been given the freedom to let all my hunger and desires out and hand them over to someone who can recognise them and give me everything I want.  Which is why I’m calling Sir my Light One.  He and I talked about this briefly during our first date (lunch, and then the tea room I mentioned earlier.  Same guy.)  when I blurted out in the middle of a long meandering conversation that I was death-identified.  He told me he was life-identified, and I believe him now with good reason.  He is one of those rare few people who can watch me open up in these ways and instead of using the vulnerability that comes with showing that deep, secret part of myself to his own purposes, he has made sure to put me in a comfortable place where I can relax and take all the pleasure and the exact kind of treatment I need since he seems so much to want to offer me a place to let that deep secret part of myself thrive.

In a nutshell – and you know what Hamlet had to say about that – I identify this in my nature: I need to take and take and take until I feel as if I’ve died.  And his nature seems to be to give me every filthy thing I secretly desire until I’m happier than I ever thought I could be.

I didn’t think this would turn quite so much into a love letter to my Sir, but there it is.  Fiction gives me a handy framework for Why I Need Someone To Handle Me In Unspeakable Ways, but my life has offered me the first example of this dynamic between myself and a lover that I’ve had yet.  Yes, it could all go wrong, and yes, I’m terrified of that, but if I don’t at the very least try I will regret it harder than anything.   That regret hurts more than anything those boys I’ve rejected have done to me, so I am going to very well find out what happens next.

 

*This originally had me so impressed, since often fantasy is all about the Good vs. Evil thing, as opposed to balancing the two sides of human nature taken to an extreme by adding in supernatural powers.  But one day at work I was talking to a woman from Ukraine, and she was asking about my unusual name and what it meant.  She said her own name meant “Light, but in my language it also means like a holy light.”  So maybe there is more of a good/evil aspect that got lost in translation.  If it did – great!  I’m sticking to my original interpretation anyway.

** Another break in writing – only a few hours this time, but I thought I’d note it anyway, since as soon as I came back I was all, “I’m just going to throw in some song lyrics here, since I can’t get back into Serious Business.”  But I will.  Meet me back in the main entry, because I just got my train of thought back!

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