What do you think about the relationship between Sickle and The Poet?
This ask was received a minute after the previous fanfic ask, fun fact.
Just as a little background, I’ve previously written about Poet/Poet and Sickle once or twice. There was a long post (+follow-up reblog, IIRC) I wrote back in the day in defense of the Poet, or more accurately, an appreciation post of his potential (he's not popular enough to be the target of significant criticism, hah). I also once wrote a Poet-centric fic in which Poet is injured and Sickle must protect him.
Anyway. An incredibly long braindump is under the ‘Keep Reading’ cut for length purposes. I had little choice but to start with the ‘slapstick’ aspect, so you’ll have to bear with me through a lengthy discussion of their “usual routine” before I can 'zoom out’ on other aspects of Poet and Sickle’s dynamic.
For those who quite sensibly will not be reading the overlong ‘content’ under the cut, please instead have these easier-to-read thoughts in bullet point form:
We must surmise Narita writes Sickle and Poet with slapstick in mind. I don’t personally find the “Sickle kicks Poet for being annoying’ routine particularly funny, though Poet’s provocation can be amusing.
They don’t only ‘quibble’ via unilateral slapstick, though; their introductory scene, for instance, shifts into near-bickering when Poet argues back.
There’s merit in contextualizing their dynamic rather than take the slapstick as nothing more than comedy for the sake of comedy. One might ask oneself if their routine serves as another method of distancing the Lamia from the world, w/o taking away from the actual personal conflicts.
It’s almost a form of time-passing banter; it’s easy for both to fall back on as an interaction. It breaks the ice between the Lamia in Vol 22, e.g.
Then there’s Leeza’s quip that the Lamia are people “who only know how to fight.” It’s not as if Poet and Sickle are the sole example of interpersonal conflict in the Lamia; just look at Leeza & Rail. Moreover, I don’t think Sickle & Poet actually hate each other, whereas Leeza & Rail absolutely do. Poet may be the group’s butt monkey, since Chi and Leeza insult him just like Sickle, but the barbed back-and-forth between Leeza & Rail borders on downright nasty.
The Lamia are a dysfunctional group by literal and individual design. On top of their literal designs, they individually, deliberately exhibit eccentricities intended to be off-putting. As the “most normal-looking” Lamia, S & P both compensate by exaggerating their speech and behavior; this is something they have in common versus the other Lamia, for whom ‘appearances’ are immediately distinguishing. We might now see how this could foment friction between S&P.
Also consider the Lamia’s make-up. We have: Rail and Frank, set apart by their youth; Sickle and Chi, the brusque fighters; Christopher (leader) and Poet, two exceptionally loquacious ‘madmen’. And the twins.
As if Chris and Poet weren’t enough, Sickle has to contend with Graham as a 3-for-3 “chatty combatant conversationalist.” Sickle is a doer surrounded by talkers; she “takes things seriously” and is exasperated by those who don’t. Poet, a useless fighter who never shuts up, is exactly the sort of person who’d get on her nerves.
But I don’t think she hates him, nor he her.
Volume 10, a volume in which Sickle and Poet are “on their own together’ for much of the events, sees no slapstick between them. Granted, they’re cooperating in emergency circumstances - a dire situation - but I think there are enough moments indicating their “usual exchange” isn’t the sum of their relationship.
Poet genuinely admires Sickle or at minimum respects how tough she is. For all Sickle’s put-downs of Poet as a “moron” and his monologues as “nonsense / drivel / loony claptrap), she does actually understand what he says most of the time, and she privately admits to her lack of restraint as a character flaw she feels guilty over to him in Dolce.
Not only are we seeing a character who projects toughness voicing a fairly personal if not vulnerable frustration with her own failings, we see how Poet reacts: he recognizes he has the chance to launch into “nonsense drivel” that Sickle would accept (i.e. not censure) and does not take it. He doesn’t want to. Not for any noble reason, mind you (like “it wouldn’t be fair to take advantage”) but because he “has pride in his verbal stylings.”
My take on this is that Poet ultimately values his “styled speech” being acknowledged regardless whether positively or negatively; he might not enjoy being kicked, but if it truly distressed him he wouldn’t continue rambling despite Sickle repeatedly asking him to stop.
I think Sickle’s frequent irritation with Poet’s bloviating is genuine, but it’s so usual to him that it’s--comfortable, in a way. When everything has gone to shit at the end of Volume 9, and Poet is speaking plainly, him easing back into his poetic speech isn’t something she objects to--probably because he’s providing a one normal constant in circumstances otherwise far from normal. Poet being silent, meanwhile, is more off-putting to her than his usual ‘drivel’; at least, she finds silent Poet ‘creepy’.
Poet is deliberately roundabout even on an occasion when she asks him what’s the matter, so he’s not exactly trying to break any communication barriers here. Both fall back into the “usual exchange” because it’s habit, because it’s safe, because it’s easy.
The Lamia are insular-ish; since they distance themselves from humans, they have little opportunities to form connections outside the group. Since one of Baccano!’s themes/topics of interest is the power of ‘connections between people’--especially as contributing to one’s personhood, and as facilitators of internal and external change--perhaps Sickle and Poet’s relationship may change once their individual worlds expand.
Just as Christopher’s did post-Claire, with Ricardo, and Rail’s world expanded upon Rail encountering Carol. Sickle and Poet could also choose to internally or externally change on their own, though reconciling external change with their deliberately ‘eccentric’ deportment and speech might not come easy.
Okay, that was a long summary. In fact, it’s...it could probably suffice as the post proper, couldn’t it. I don’t want to suggest the difference between the content above and below the cut is that "one is formatted in easier-to-read bullet points,” but that would be incorrect: the content below the cut is overlong even by my standards and rivals the Poet, Christopher, and Graham combined in terms of repetitive rambling epics.
If, for some reason, you enjoy it when I ramble like a Poet-wannabe, click or tap ‘keep reading’ for expanded nonsense drivel. Seriously, it...turned out longer than I realized.
Slapstick. No sense in beating around the bush; Sickle and Poet’s routine wherein...
(1) The Poet is a) about to launch into another rambling monologue or b) has been rambling ‘nonsense’ for whatever amount of time is “too much”...
if a) Sickle either has already hit limit OR no patience that day OR they are on a mission and have no time to humor him
If b) then there is a chance Sickle has repeatedly asked him to stop, growing more and more frustrated or irritated when he does not
(2) Sickle, whether preemptively fed up or losing her “violent temper,” physically remonstrates him one of the following ways:
[Common] Leg or foot to throat, cutting off air (once to point of Poet fainting)
Kick to back
Once jabbed fingers into his temple
(3) Poet can then react or respond in a few ways:
By voluntarily shushing
With a genuine physical reaction (e.g. one-time faint)
Melodramatic physical reaction (rolling around on floor)
Arguing with her.
Option 4 may be complemented by outright provocations, such as asking Rail to send Sickle flying, or suggesting Sickle die and carve her own grave marker.
...was probably written by Narita with slapstick (comedic violence) in mind. “Poet is annoying” provides a (debatable) ‘justification’ or reason for the physical censuring (add points if he has either ignored multiple “stop” requests or goaded her); since there are no serious consequences (well, faint might be contestable, more on this later), or at least, since Poet doesn’t ‘seriously mind’ (he minds, I think, but clearly not enough to not actively provoke her)--their routine does come off as audience-targeted comedy.
Whether this type of slapstick works as comedy, is, of course, up to subjective taste. Personally "Poet: obnoxious / Sickle: I kick” doesn’t do much to tickle my funny bone; I did wring amusement from Poet asking Rail to do him a solid and “send Sickle flying” (also the “carve her grave marker” quip), but not so much from the slapstick essence.
Digression on Slapstick
It’s worth noting this isn’t the only example of slapstick humor in Baccano!, though, given the series’ nature, slapstick doesn’t seem to be very common. Graham and Shaft’s dynamic is rooted a bit in slapstick, what with Graham frequently knocking the wind out of Shaft with his wrench. We see some slapstick with Jacuzzi’s crew, primarily with the “Boy who wants a sister/family” and friends. Hell, I think there’s at least one scene in which some of the kids outright kick Jacuzzi? Ouch?
Then there’s the three Stooges Pamela, Lana, and Sonja: Pamela and Lana mostly verbally spar, but on one occasion Pamela thumps Lana on the head to shut her up; another time, she grabs Lana by her cheeks; there was also the exaggerated ‘slap on the shoulders’. Claire and Berga’s roughhousing has gotten a bit more ‘playfully violent’ now that Berga is an immortal.
If we opine that Sickle is the Chi to Poet’s Christopher, given Chi offers his own brusque put-downs of Christopher’s longer soliloquies, then perhaps the ‘gender element’ becomes harder to ignore. I can’t recall Chi ever thumping Christopher in Vol 7; he’s capable of matching Sickle in insults against both Chris and Poet, but does he ever commit a dope-slap?
If you asked me if Sickle and Poet play into the “female-on-male slapstick” that’s in part predicated on notions where women can’t “seriously hurt” men, I’d say...no, since Sickle was made for combat, unlike Poet, and could easily kill or injure him if she wanted to--and she doesn’t, of course, she just wants to “shut him up.” I fully believe in Sickle as a fighter, though the fact she keeps getting paired off against Graham, whom she’s never ‘beaten’, makes this belief frustrating. Her dynamic with Poet neither undermines nor especially reinforces her power, in my opinion.
Something to bear in mind for later is that the Poet could, if he wanted, immediately render her susceptible to his suggestion simply by making eye contact with her. He could make her cease with the kicks; hell, I assume he could make her and Chi quit with the insults altogether. But he doesn’t.
Whether slapstick has a place in a series with serious violence and abuses being committed is...a question. I’ve seen it raised in certain fandom circles over the years (e.g. Winry, Ed, Al in FMA, Sakura in Naruto - have not seen or read Naruto, to be clear), but I don’t think it’s especially worth discussing in this post--or much of a debate in our fandom.
Narita clearly knows the difference between slapstick and abuse. Baccano! is a series that affords victims of abuse, people with trauma, and people who have otherwise been subject to extreme control/influence with tremendous sympathy; with characters like Czes, Celice, Elmer & Illness, Niki, Ennis & Chané, the Lamia, and more, we recognize and understand there are long-lasting psychological effects of their past environments or traumas. Not just physical, psychological.
We’re given an intimate look into how these characters think and feel about those responsible, how those feelings change over time, and never are their reactions or actions shamed or deemed wrong. I don’t think S&P’s dynamic can undermine any of that, nor do I Graham & Shaft’s dynamic or the slapstick in Jacuzzi’s gang.
End digression.
In-Universe
So, even if I don’t find the slapstick aspect of their relationship comedy gold, do I think there’s anything potentially interesting that can be read into it from an in-universe perspective? Yes.
As we’re reminded frequently in the text, the Lamia all attempt to distance themselves from the world. Sickle’s speech (”masculine”) and behavior (brusque, temperamental, icy, tough with a splash of sarcasm) are intentionally off-putting. Then there’s the Poet. From Volume 10:
> "Instead, [the Poet] evinced his outlandishness in something other than his appearance—his words—so that his companions and the people on the street around him would think… ...No way am I lookin’ that guy in the eye."
Note that he includes his companions there; he does not want anyone—humans or homunculi—to get too close and make eye contact, thus putting themselves under the influence of his eyes.
Yes, the Poet was alone rambling to himself when Sickle arrives and kicks him in Volume 9, and yes, I think Sickle’s frustration with him is genuine (more on this later), but there may be some merit in asking whether their ‘routine’ is itself another method of ensuring humans keep their distance. After all, as Rail and Frank point out when they join them a minute later, neither Poet’s screaming nor “a woman executing a spinning high-kick”) are exactly subtle. Granted, Rail is being a smart-ass since they were supposed to actually be “laying low” (Sickle’s kick was ostensibly trying to silence Poet with that in mind)...anyway.
In terms of group dynamics, their “usual exchange” seems to be as comfortably usual to the other Lamia as it is to them. In Volume 21, their routine (i.e. Sickle kicking Poet mid-ramble) serves to “break the ice”; the other previously-silent Lamia start chatting among themselves. It might be akin to ‘old banter’, a way to pass the time.
Poet on Sickle
At the very least, their usual exchange is usual. It is a routine; ergo Poet is not so passive an instigator. To what extent the physical retaliation affects him is...variable. On one occasion he actually briefly faints (few seconds at most?) due to lack of oxygen courtesy of her foot to his throat, which is...not super great, probably the ‘most consequence’ we’ve seen...
...However, on a different occasion of throat-targeted temper, he reacts by rolling on the ground, clutching his throat for a melodramatically long time. He has goaded Sickle by inciting revenge or suggesting she die (once); though he often lets his companions’ insults roll off his back, he’s not above bickering with her. Also, and this important, it seems he has on occasion outright ignored her repeated verbal requests and warnings for the sake of bloviating; since theirs is a routine, he is consciously doing so knowing the risk of incurring violent temper.
Equally important, I think, is this bit from Volume 10:
> "Sickle was clearly irritated with herself, and the Poet chose to remain silent. Right now, no matter how meaningless his nonsense was, she would probably be quiet and accept it. Which was why he kept his mouth shut.
After all, even if they were only a means to demonstrate his lunacy, he had his own small pride in his verbal stylings."
Poet recognizes he has an opportunity to speak freely without Sickle retaliating here--but he doesn’t take it! He doesn’t want to use it. Not even out of some noble notion that he shouldn’t take advantage of her frustration with herself, but because he has “pride in his verbal stylings.” I take this to mean he wants his flowery speech to be acknowledged. To elicit a reaction, whether good or bad or violent or confused, because that means his speech struck a chord.
The insults and physical censuring, meanwhile, don’t seem to strike any particular nerve on his part. When we’re in his perspective, we don’t have all that much in the way of internal reflection on Sickle and the interactions between them. I think Poet admires Sickle to some degree; at the very least, he explicitly respects “her toughness” with regard to Sickle showing no signs of the pain her injury (from Graham’s fight) must still be giving her.
But he doesn’t dwell in this way at all on their routine. He knows her well enough to predict how she might react (temper-wise) to certain situations, but those acknowledgements of Sickle being “fed up” never lead to him worrying she might take it out on him or anything like that. The Lamia have plenty of psychological (and physical, depending) issues courtesy of Huey and Rhythm; not from each other.
Sickle on Poet
Sickle doesn’t dwell much on Poet either. She dismisses a lot of what he says as nonsense, but let us not forget she can understand most of what he says... meaning she can probably tell when he’s being nonsensical on purpose (which is often) versus when he’s actually saying something worthwhile or relevant. That he’s doing it on purpose - that he could speak plainly, if he made the effort, but he chooses to be nonsensical - just might be more irritating than the flowery language?
After all, Sickle is very much a “doer, not talker.” There’s this line in Vol 22, when Sickle is confronting Graham...:
> “Who cares?!” Sickle stomped her foot, a vein in her forehead pulsing. “You and the Poet both! You’re men, aren’t you? You’re supposed to communicate with your bodies, not your words!”
...and upon reading it, one must remember Poet is not the only exceedingly loquacious man Sickle has in her life. Christopher can match him 1:1 on talkativeness, and I’m sure this was to Sickle’s chagrin--she being a “less talk, more action,” serious-minded type of gal. Graham being 3-for-3 on the chatty scale is like the world is playing some sort of prank on her, probably.
She should know full well Poet was not designed for combat, so I don’t think she actually holds that against him; being subject to two, now three men who’ll monologue at a drop of a hat--talking your ear off instead of, eh, trying to rip it off--seems, it seems, tiring.
“Communicating with one’s bodies” is telling regarding her own behavior, too. The contrast between her ‘elegant, high-society feminine appearance’ and ‘masculine’ speech & behavior is meant to be an off-putting defense mechanism; so, she is expected, or believes she must, act a certain way all the time.
The lines between the Lamia’s “cultivated eccentricities” and their “true natures” are blurred to the point where their personas are often “second nature” to them, so I can’t exactly say Sickle doesn’t want to act the way she does. Still, maybe some of her irritation w/the likes of Chris, Graham, and Poet is as much to do with them being freely flamboyant “chatty Cathys” (none embodying the ‘traditional masculinity’ she emulates) as it is them being generally obnoxious.
On that note, she herself (per the English translation) actually uses the word ‘slapstick’ to describe Christopher and Graham’s ‘fight’ in Dolce: after standing on the sidelines, watching them have a merry old time fight-talking and talk-fighting, dicking around, laughing - aka “not taking their fight seriously enough by her standards” - she has enough, and decides to take them both down. So, her character has a personal distinction between what constitutes slapstick and serious violence.
Being ‘serious-minded’, she has little patience for Poet when he’s spouting ‘nonsense’ for the hell of it...but again, she’s not the only Lamia who puts Poet down. She also doesn’t protest when Poet grabs her hand in Dolce in Vol 10 and says “Let’s Go”--okay, she wants to know why, but she doesn’t stop in her tracks and refuse to comply. Maybe there was simply no time, since Graham exits “the john” a minute later, but I choose to think she would’ve followed Poet out of Dolce.
...and then demand to know what he’s thinking once outside? Probably, but look; if she truly held Poet in contempt, and had no respect whatsoever for his intellect or opinion, I imagine she would have stopped in her tracks immediately. She almost certainly wouldn’t have asked Poet for ideas on what to do next if that were the case. When Salomé has her “translate” Poet’s flowery “Graham is bad news” warning in Vol 22, she understands Poet and also backs him up when Salomé asks if Poet has “truly lost his marbles.”
Remember the “Sickle was clearly irritated...verbal stylings” Vol 10 quote from earlier? Here’s what immediately preceded it:
> Then, walking over to the Poet, she spoke in a low voice only he could hear. “I feel awful that I couldn’t restrain myself. This kinda thing is probably why my master refused to teach me true capoeira.”
That’s a somewhat personal admission Sickle makes, isn’t it? Personal enough that she privately, not publicly, utters it. It’s not only an admission that she lacked restraint and that she sees this as something to (and does) feel guilt over; it’s her perceiving it as enough of a character flaw as to make her unworthy of true capoeira. For someone who projects toughness and strength, this seems tantamount to vulnerability.
To privately rue her personal failings to Poet (and to, you know, generally cooperate with him as she does in Vol 10)... She would not admit this in confidence to Poet if she didn’t trust him at all, didn’t see any personal link between them. (Can you see Leeza or Rail saying something like this to each other in 1934? When they actively hate each other?)
(I’m not sure to what degree Sickle’s self-perceived “lack of restraint” issue reflects on her ‘routine’ with Poet? I guess it’d be fair of you to ask if this ‘poor restraint’ explains the slapstick (’she reacts on instinct!’), but I hesitate to seize that idea so readily. In fact, I just might argue the opposite: she is actually exercising restraint against Poet, for kicking without restraint would surely seriously injure or kill him. Since this isn’t a cartoony manga where cartoon physics / visual gags can be liberally used to ‘neuter slapstick’, the slapstick here relies on her restraint. Also, she waited for a good while before intervening in the Chris vs Graham fight; it’s a matter of undisciplined restraint, not no restraint.)
Together Alone
I’ve referenced Volume 10 several times so far, and it bears pointing out that, throughout quite a bit of the events taking place in Vol 10...Sickle and Poet are on their own. Together, that is. And they’re...fairly civil about it? Sickle still has a sarcastic retort or put-down for Poet in Vol 10, but that’s about it for sparring. I don’t think there’s a slapstick instance between them once.
Remember the dire situation that Volume 9 leaves them in--their last scene in Vol 9: when they’re sitting in Dolce, listening to the radio’s report on the explosions at Elleson HIll. They are the only ones remaining of the Lamia: Chi left that morning to join Tim and Adele in NY; Frank has been kidnapped by Nebula; Rail has gone missing; and Sham and Hilton—their communication channels with Huey—have gone incommunicado.
When the Poet raises the likely possibility Rail is behind whatever’s happening at Elleson Hill, he does so, for once, in plain language. He only resumes waxing lyrical once he suddenly ‘appreciates’ just how grim a situation he and Sickle are in. He even laughs. (In a way, perhaps him waxing lyrical is a means of protectively distancing himself from the emotional weight of their emergency...)
Sickle’s response isn’t to agree or disagree with his sober assessment of their circumstances. She simply murmurs, "You're starting to talk like yourself again." This is not a lament. I can’t be positive it’s a positive statement, but I suspect it is leaning more toward relief than chagrin considering the context. When the situation is anything but normal—their companions all gone, themselves cut off from Huey, everything with Elleson Hill, Nebula, the Russos, Graham—having your one remaining comrade remain a constant (by acting ‘as usual’) is probably...reassuring.
Oh, moreover, the next day -- after the fight in Dolce -- Sickle notices Poet has gone quiet again and says, “What’s the matter, Poet? it’s creepy when you clam up.” Poet’s deliberately obfuscating response successfully serves to irritate her, so she “[fights] back the urge to kick him” and tells him to shut up after all.
Question for later: had Poet answered in plain language, or at least not been deliberately ‘obnoxious’ in his answer, would Sickle have responded so petulantly? This isn’t the first time he’s ticked her off in what he says; in Volume 9, when he (in poet-speak) aligns himself with atheism only to then invoke God, the inconsistency (and commitment to inconsistency) is what grinds her gears.
(Note: Come to think of it, isn’t Poet supposedly acting “even more oddly than usual” in 1934? I remember Rail says something to the effect of “Poet’s been making even less sense than usual” to Chris on their reunion. So if Poet’s behavior in 1934 is overly eccentric / nonsensical even by his standards, than maybe Sickle’s responses to that behavior need to be contextualized.)
In a similar vein, I should acknowledge that Sickle and Poet’s cooperation in Vol 10 is cooperation in emergency circumstances. They have to work together. This only means, though, that I wish we’d been given more scenes of them paired off than we saw. Their later attempts to track down Rail and Frank, wandering the city “feeling cornered” are only summarized; it would have been nice if we actually saw them ‘together alone’ in action.
Together, the Lamia
I can only speculate as to how many years Sickle and Poet have known each other, or how ‘close’ or ‘distant’ they are. They don’t hate each other like Leeza and Rail hate each other, but are they ‘close’ in the way Chi and Chris as friends are ‘close’? Not so sure. All the Lamia have personal issues and their own baggage from their time with Rhythm, but which issues they share with each other, and which ones they’re flippant about versus vulnerable about are up in the air.
We know less about what Sickle and Poet went through in the laboratory than we do Rail and Frank; we know S&P’s bodies weren’t tinkered on “in the special way” Rail and Frank’s bodies were, and Rail, Frank (+ Adele, for that matter) show far more external signs of trauma than the others. (Adele physically shakes at memories and/or the thought of returning to the laboratory; Rail’s PTSD with Huey and the researchers flares w/Renee, Frank is similar).
Sickle & Poet are more like Chris and Chi in referring to Master Huey with any amount of deference, even if rote. Poet is stable enough to calmly self-analyze his ‘powers’ from the laboratory and to critically reflect on who he is; we know he searched for and failed to find the road to happiness, that he questions whether he is acting out of cowardice in “following Master Huey’s orders to stay safe.
He professes guilt (I think) when he uses his powers in Vol 9 -- “Ohhh, ‘tis the apple on my back that extended these keys to me. [...] My sin is” -- but Sickle, who isn’t listening to a word he says, cuts the confession off. This is where their eccentricities / personas perhaps impede the forging of a deeper bond.
Sickle’s brusque demeanor and ‘toughness’ potentially keep her from being too vulnerable--the “I feel awful...restraint...” line is the most personal I can recall her being, and I think we know the least about Sickle and Chi when it comes to the Lamia’s laboratory pasts and personal issues.
Poet’s deliberate abstruse language and ‘insane’ ramblings are so successful in driving away humans as to similarly create distance between himself and his companions. Frank can hardly understand him; Rail understands him better, but not by too much (?). Chi’s experience with Chris might help with comprehension, but he and Leeza are just like Sickle when it comes to putting Poet down. Sham likes Poet better than Leeza/Hilton, while Christopher has actively taken a leaf from Poet’s book.
(I guess Poet didn’t quite appreciate that until Volume 9? I mean, he goes “come to think of it,” Christopher was the only ‘great and faithful’ person to welcome the power of his words. If Poet seriously never ‘thought’ deeply about that until Vol 9, again, we surmise he pays the insults or lack of comprehension similar little mind.
Sickle (and Christopher?) perhaps understand(s) Poet the best (or most often) out of them all, yet, since his gimmick and nonsense irritate Sickle, she’s in the habit of outright ignoring much of what he has to say. A language barrier, in other words (ha). Poet’s language obfuscates his meaningful insights or personal admissions.
The Lamia are just. Very dysfunctional. Rail and Frank are set apart by their comparative youth and shared trauma; Rail openly badmouths Huey and isn’t much for respecting people (though they do feel guilty for potentially endangering Sickle and Chi)... Christopher and Chi are decades-old ‘friends’, though Chris, in the same breath he talks about his quest for 100 friends, says he would kill a good friend if they tried to get in his way. He’s as flippant about his insecurities and idolization of nature as he is serious.
Sure, Chris and Chi have their usual exchanges, and Poet and Sickle their usual exchanges, but for us, always in the context of a mission. They’re bound by Huey, they’re bound by work, and they so quickly fragment to do their own things when on those missions? When they have time, at least. The Lamia assemble in Volume 9 for Leeza’s instructions, and minutes after they’re relayed find Rail and Frank fucking off to see the Wrigley Building.
I guess... Christopher calls Sickle and Chi his “beloved family-slash-friends.” When he’s reunited with Sickle & Poet in 1934, he wonders if “family ties” brought them together. He say the Lamia are ‘pretty much’ family to him, but do the other Lamia members feel the same way? Explicitly? (No) Perhaps they don’t need or want to define what binds them in such terms. Maybe they can’t.
These are homunculi who know each other better than anyone. At least, their personas. They’ve spent years together; they’ve spent years distancing themselves from humans, had years to settle into ‘safe’ dynamics.
Winding to a Conclusion
It is in how the Lamia each distance themselves that Sickle and Poet have more in common with each other than the other Lamia. Never mind Sickle and Chi are similarly brusque vs Christopher and Poet being similarly loquacious, think appearance vs behavior. Rail’s and Frank’s physical appearances (sutured scars; abnormal body) immediately create distance between them and humans; Chris and Chi are a mix of appearance and behavior (Chris: teeth, old-fashioned clothing; Chi: Wrist-guards + outfit; brusque).
Sickle and Poet, however, both in theory have the easiest time ‘passing’ as ‘normal’. So, they both compensate via ‘eccentric’ / ‘off-putting’ speech and behavior: Sickle with her icy countenance and “masculine” way of speaking and acting; Poet with his ‘crazy’, long-winded, opaque ramblings that he hopes will make people want to avoid eye contact.
Perhaps we might understand, now, how these respective exaggerated, deliberately off-putting behaviors may naturally clash. I’m not sure whether Narita was trying to ‘reverse’ anything with Sickle and Poet...with Sickle being the tough, masculine, curt fighter vs Poet being the useless-in-a-fight ‘chatty Cathy’ whose special powers are barely relevant.
Eh, who knows. They are at least written to provide some comic relief (success debatable), but their relationship is, for now, a static one. Christopher pours more of his feelings out than Sickle, and is (relatively) more open and comprehensible with them than Poet, but Chi dismisses much of what Christopher says as “crazy” like Sickle does with Poet. Christopher has changed since 1933, but whether that will change his dynamic with Chi is...hard to say.
Since Chi and Sickle have drawn short sticks in terms of character intimacy (how intimate we are with their motives, insecurities, backstories), character growth on their end (i.e. growth from what, to where) isn’t, uh, obvious. Poet has the opportunity, or at least, we know enough about what he lacks and doubts about himself to know what he might seek, but...
...when I think about Poet and Sickle in December 1934 vs February 1935, can I think of any evolution in their dynamic or characters? Not particularly. Rather, when Poet & Sickle were on their own in Volume 10, to what extent did those emergency circumstances affect their relationship / them as people?
Well, they were more cordial with each other. Sickle expressed frustration with herself to him. Poet reflected on his own shortcomings, his failure to find happiness and hope that Rail and Frank, the youngsters, still had a chance. These moments are confined to Dolce, though, and after Dolce...we don’t see much more of them. Once Huey locates S&P, that’s that for “the adventures of Sickle and Poet.”
What would it take for Sickle & Poet’s relationship to change. If Poet seriously minded the slapstick routine, he could try to do something about it--but he doesn’t, so it continues. If Sickle were to conclude her kicking Poet with restraint isn’t true restraint, not like her master (whoever that is) would consider restraint, there might be change. In both cases, the change would be for ‘self-centered’ reasons: Sickle for self-improvement, not out of remorse or reconciliation; Poet for his comfort, not out of consideration or sheepishness.
I wonder just how Poet tried to find the road to happiness, and what it means that he failed to find it. This goes for Sickle, too. I think, though, that external change in their consideration for each other would be equally important to seeing their relationship evolve. Sickle might be tough and brusque, but she was straightforwardly open about her frustration with herself to Poet in Volume 10. However, when she asks him “what’s the matter” later, Poet chooses to respond in his usual ‘roundabout’ way, and so any concern she might have is smothered by her irritation.
If Poet deigned to meet Sickle on her plane of communication more often, or at least ‘restrained himself’ from responding in spectacularly roundabout fashion, I think Sickle woulld lend him an ear. On the flip side, Sickle needs to shake her instinct to tune out or dismiss Poet’s rambling as nonsense 95% of the time. When she notices him frown in Volume 10, she assumes he’s gearing up for more “nonsense drivel” and thus pays the frown no mind. When he’s feeling guilty about his powers in Volume 9, she’s not listening to a word he says and interrupts him before he actually gets to the ‘sin’ part.
So when I say she understands Poet, she understands him when she bothers to understand him. Since a lot of the time Poet is deliberately being nonsensical, there’s precedent for her tuning out; but, you know, when Person A is in the habit of dismissing, putting down, or ignoring a fair bit of what Person B says... and when Person B is in the habit of playing up the nonsense and flowery language despite multiple requests to stop (and sometimes to the detriment of a mission)...
(not to mention willing to goad or provoke Person A into bickering)
...then you’ve got mutually limited communication that’s easy to fall back onto, but hard to use for discussing ‘hard topics’. (See: lads who communicate entirely in banter, flippancy, and sarcasm.)
Conclusion: Connecting Chapter
You know, when Sham and Hilton encounter Poet on the outskirts of the rubberneckers watching the alleyway fight, Poet bullshits about “the fragility and steadfastness of bonds” between people and “Love” for he, too, is searching for love. This is all a roundabout way of saying, “I was unable to push through the crowd,” haha, ha, but given how “connections between people” is a major subject of the series (see: Ennis suggesting that a ‘soul’ is comprised of the connections one has made with the world” in 1935, talk about thematic!)...
...well, maybe the Poet was being vulnerable or speaking something akin to truth, there. The Lamia try to distance themselves from humans; they are bound to each other by upbringing, origins, work, experience... they are used to each other, they only have each other.
But if Ennis is right about connections and change, that, though there are people who can change in solitude, it’s in meeting others, expanding one’s world, and being acknowledged by others that one comes to change, then perhaps this is what Sickle and Poet and Chi and the rest need.
Christopher changes after losing to Claire, but continues to change in the company of Ricardo. Rail idolizes Christopher, Rail breaks, but perhaps, perhaps, in the company of Jacuzzi’s gang, they will heal. The impact Carol has on Rail after only 1, 2 interactions is, in its own, small way, profound. For someone who has always distanced themselves from humans, and tried to see themselves as superior, Rail ‘connects’ with Carol for something as simple and meaningful as her kindness.
Sickle and Poet have encountered Graham multiple times, now. Will these encounters lead to change? Have they already planted the seeds for change? As Sickle’s and Poet’s worlds expand, they might change; so, too, may their relationship. If their discontent with themselves leads to internal change, then there may be external change; to change their external behavior might call into question their personas altogether, and, well. As stated, the line between what is “second nature” to them and what is “their nature” is rather hazy...
...as is the entirety of everything I’ve written. Wow. Talk about roundabout and repetitive and long-winded. The trouble is that I actually did edit some of this as I was writing; I rearranged some of the content, condensed paragraphs, added sections...and yet it remains...a lot. And I really can’t spend even more time on a proper revision, since, uh, the thesis is again in crisis.
If anyone actually read this whole thing - read all the way up to this point - I will be very surprised.
(The ‘true nature’ talk is definitely something for another day. Subject that’s pertinent in Baccano! beyond the Lamia, that’s for sure. I’ve got various relevant notes scribbled down, ramblings that may see the light of day in essay form...but not this day.)
Hey I hope you’re doing well! I just wanna say I love your baccanalyses so much! You go so in depth with practically every character, not just a select few, which is super neat. Also quick question: what Hogwarts house would my boi Luck fit into? I think your take would be fascinating.
It has been four months since you sent this and I can only apologize that it took this long. Thanks for the kind words and faith in all two of my brain cells.
I was a huge fan of Harry Potter as a kid, but I wouldn’t say Hogwarts House sorting was something I gave intensive thought to–or put too much stock in, perhaps? (Despite being irritated if I was sorted into a house that wasn’t Ravenclaw, hah). Definitely not someone who makes a habit out of sorting non-HP characters into houses, which is why I’ve low-key been nervous about answering questions like this…
…doesn’t mean I won’t give it the ol’ college try. Worrying about being ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ about categorizing a fictional character from one series in fictional houses from a different series, houses that JKR could assign any old traits too, is, uh, impractical, when you think about it. There’s just no objective way to be right about house traits and sorting. I don’t ‘know’ what house would best work for Luck; I can only offer one take.
Here we go.
Short Answer: Slytherin?
Long Answer: Slytherin…?
Volume Four’s prologue states the following: “If roles were assigned to the three brothers […] Luck’s was cunning.” Cunning/shrewdness, of course, is one of the most-cited traits ascribed to Slytherins–but obviously one line isn’t going to be sufficient textual support. It is, however, a good springboard for everything else.
TL;DR of what’s below the cut: Luck is cunning and shrewd, yes, but he’s also self-preservationist (thinks before he acts; scared of death pre-1930) and (er, moderately) ambitious (both as an individual and for his ‘in-group’, the Family). He’s resourceful, e.g. when he hires the same people in 1935 hired to fight the Gandors in 1932. He’s outwardly not very expressive (sangfroid) but internally passionate; in a similar vein, he’s not very extroverted (contrast to Firo, who’s naturally good with people).
Luck cares deeply about his in-group and to a lesser extent his image and reputation within the in-group (with the group’s external reputation more important). He’s not 100% self-confident as some Slytherins, but he presents himself as composed and competent, which does the trick.
Do let me know if you agree or disagree. Your take would be far more interesting!
Write-up is below the cut. It’s long enough and the night is late enough I’m losing the capacity for editing, so apologies if this gets incoherent and or repetitive. I’m good at both of those things.
(Interlude) Before I do properly get into this, I should confess that–in my heart of hearts–I’d like to think Luck would’ve made a good Ravenclaw had his circumstances (i.e. mafia family to run) been different. He’s very analytical and introspective, and more brains over brawn (Berga) when it comes to action…
(The Gandors do have a reputation for ruthless violence, but even if violence is what got them their territory, they keep it through their wits. Vol 4 explicitly states Gustavo is someone whose career in the Runoratas plateaus because he’s all brawn, no brains, and I think the contrast between him and Luck/Keith in that volume proves they have what he doesn’t).
However, no matter my personal desires, the fact is I simply don’t have enough to go on to support Ravenclaw!Luck. Him reading E.A. Poe poetry has led to all sorts of headcanons on my part, but we don’t get the opportunity to see how he spends his down time (if he has it) much in canon. He’s curious enough and intrigued enough by Tick that the intrigue wins out over practicality, but in general? Yeah he could possess deep intellectual curiosity and a desire to learn, but he’s so busy being a mafioso–the side we mostly see in canon–that there’s no ‘time’ so show us. (End Interlude).
Right. What other qualities are often Slytherin-ascribed? There’s ‘ambitious’, ‘resourcefulness’, ‘self-preservationist’, ‘determined’… Ah, let’s get on with it.
Luck isn’t intensely self-assured, which is something Slytherins tend to be; he doesn’t think he measures up to his older brothers, and possesses more self-criticism than arrogance. He isn’t necessarily concerned with personal glory or achievements either; his ambitions are the Gandor Family’s ambitions, or rather, he’s spent the first twenty years of his life proving his ‘worth’ as a Gandor executive/heir/mafioso and working to expand but especially secure the Family’s territory.
That’s the thing; although Slytherins are often associated with individualist priorities (individual self-preservation, self-confidence, self-serving), they are also clique-oriented. The preservation and reputation of the ‘in-group’, that small circle of people the Slytherin cares about, are just as much priorities for many Slytherins.
‘Ambition’, ‘self-preservation’, and ‘ruthlessness’ do apply to the Gandors’ modus operandi as a whole; it was ambitious of Luck and his brothers to a) take over a tiny territory and b) double that territory’s size and c) secure it even though one of the Five Families could have easily subsumed them. The violence ruthless violence used in the process could probably tie in to Slytherin foul play, and the non-aggression pacts afterward are just as much cunning as they are, say, Ravenclaw smarts.
Tenaciously holding on to that territory but not getting ahead of themselves also isn’t “unambitious,” it’s self-preservationist and it’s smart. Slytherins might be willing to take risks, but not reckless risks (like, say, Gryffindors). Luck and his brothers cultivated an external cutthroat reputation to ‘get ahead’, but not to the stars; their ambition was to secure, strengthen, and stabilize the Family up to a certain point and they achieved it. Their ‘need for status’ was a legitimate need to further that one ambition. I’d say this also feeds into Slytherin pragmatism (vs Ravenclaw non-pragmatism).
They do everything they can to avoid conflicts and making enemies, but if a conflict is imminent, Luck and his brothers won’t retreat; they absolutely will not cede the territory/status they’ve worked so hard to achieve and keep, and when push comes to shove–they’ll shove.
As an individual, Luck definitely does (did) possess a drive and self-preservationist qualities–and it is the ‘losing’ of his drive and his self-preservation that bother him so much in Volume 4. It bothers him that he’s become ‘apathetic’. He doesn’t feel angry about the junkie’s attempt on his life, and that bothers him. He worries that he is the only brother who’s lost his drive. He calls himself self-centered.
(In practice, is Luck as self-centered as he thinks he is? As a stereotypical self-serving Slytherin? At first I thought, “No, look at how much he’s done in service of the Family,” and, “Look how much he cares about his subordinates and his brothers,” but I suppose one can see why Luck considers himself self-centered in Vol 4. He’s so self-analytical that he’s preoccupied by his angst, and he’s just one of several people in Vol 4 who choose or have to exit their own ‘worlds’, in some fashion. A major part of Vol 4′s climax involves him and Eve recognizing their own pain in each other–to overcome their respective self-centered perspectives.)
He manages to stress about being apathetic, even, which is a) relatable and b) another sign of him having an idealized ‘self’ that he doesn’t think he lives up to. Is ‘brooding’ a Slytherin-y trait? Does that count? I recall many Slytherins in Harry Potter also being less emotionally…expressive in HP, at least in ‘public’, and perhaps Luck’s outward sangfroid is a minor supporting trait here. He needs to maintain a public image of the ‘perfect mafioso’ who is ‘in control’, and so he does. He has a personal reputation to maintain. He is outwardly composed and cool towards most people, but in private might let down his guard.
He’s also conscious of the Gandors’ reputation–I said that before but–he’s conscious even moreso than Berga. When they’re dealing with Edith’s betrayal, Berga’s actually the one who suggests letting Edith off entirely–it’s Luck who immediately says they can’t, they’d lose face if they did such a thing. Then they both proceed to be indecisive over how to punish a woman, snrk–not very Slytherin, indecisiveness, but ah well.
Anyway. Being emotionally open in public is to be vulnerable and trusting, and so he closes his public image off. Slytherins don’t seem to be as extroverted as, say, Gryffindors in general…
Comparisons (Luck vs Firo, Slytherin vs Gryffindor…)
…which is one of the reasons I ruled Gryffindor out for Luck. After all, figuring out someone’s House must necessarily mean ruling out Houses, right? I ruled out Ravenclaw since there’s just not enough canon content to support Ravenclaw, but in this case I’ve ruled out Gryffindor because existing canon doesn’t support Gryffindor!Luck, in my opinion.
For instance, take Slytherin self-preservation–it opposes Gryffindor impulsiveness, and I absolutely think Luck is more self-preservationist than impulsive. He hesitates before acting, he thinks things through, whereas a Gryffindor is liable to throw themselves into a fray instinct-first.
Speaking of Gryiffindors: Firo.
I know I said I was nervous about House sorting for characters, and I honestly was so determined to not even consider the other characters when answering this question. But I often find comparisons do help when analyzing characters, and once I had the thought, “Ah, Luck and Firo would be in different houses, wouldn’t they?” I realized I was probably going to have to rule out Gryffindor and Hufflepuff for Luck–since those were the houses I knew innately would be most likely for Firo.
After a long while mulling Firo over, I eventually (tentatively) went with Gryffindor. I won’t digress into that reasoning for now (or how it partially relied on me comparing Firo to Jacuzzi); heck, maybe I’ll change my mind overnight and say Firo’s a Hufflepuff after all. The point of bringing him up here is to use him as a contrast. I’ve contrasted them before in a previous meta post, yes, but what can I say? They’re meant to be contrasted in canon; they literally contrast themselves to each other.
Firo is impulsive where Luck is not: he causes a huge scene in 1927 when he was only supposed to be location scouting; he begs Yaguruma to let him go look for Keith before running around Little Italy like a madman (vs Luck and Berga–Luck stops Berga from doing the same thing out of smarts and self-preservation); and six years later he again bolts into the rain and runs around Little Italy like a madman looking for Ennis and Ronny. Luck would not have done that.
Luck is willing to get into conflicts, but he doesn’t get into conflicts nearly as easily or often as Firo; Firo was always getting into fights as a Martillo associate, but Luck was proving his executive worth through his mind. Luck was also acutely scared of dying before becoming immortal, or at least when he was young. Can’t achieve anything if you’re dead. Luck’s not as cautious or ‘safety-first’ as Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws, but he’s not as reckless as a Gryffindor can be. Not as flashy, for that matter; Luck cautions Maria in 1933 not to do anything “overly flashy,” but it’s flashiness that often impresses Firo–or at least, Firo’s wowed by obvious displays of genius/strength/badassery.
Firo has got Gryffindor bravery to the point of self-sacrifice–but Gryffindor self-sacrifice, not Hufflepuff (he’ll jump in front of a bullet for people he knows/is involved with, but just anyone?)–and you know, even though the anime named the Gandors’ jazz hall ‘Coraggioso’ (courageous [one]), I don’t quite associate courage with Luck so deeply. Again, it’s ambition and self-preservation (with a side of family legacy) that spurred the Gandors tto inherit their father’s territory, and while it was surely brave of them to do so, I don’t think brave is the defining quality of what they did.
Firo is extroverted whereas Luck is introverted, no question; as much as Firo can be a judgmental narrow-minded guy, he’s innately good with people (not always in practice, but) and enjoys being with people he cares about. He tends to inspire or attract others more than Luck does. I’ll return to this point in a moment.
Speaking of judgmental narrow-mindedness, Firo doesn’t easily get over first impressions of others (his Gryffindor stubborness contributes to this)–and so I’m not sure he’d have been willing to do what Luck does in 1935, i.e. hire the same people who attacked the Gandors in 1932. That move, by the way, is an example of Slytherin resourcefulness on Luck’s part. Slytherins are cliquey types, but they’ll use whatever resources they need to provided they’ve judged those resources are the best option.
(And Luck clearly thought the recruitment process through, c.f. 1935-C. “It was dangerous to hire [Maria/Smith/Alkins], but that was why Luck figured they would be easy to control.” Risky, but a calculated risk.
Now, remember how I said I decided early on Luck and Firo would be in different houses? I want to point out here that Luck and Firo each admire each other in canon; with Firo, he admires Luck for being the ‘perfect mafioso’ Firo wants to be.
(Firo is desperate to prove himself in canon, and I say Gryffindors are more likely to have a need to prove themselves than Slytherins due to that whole confident thing. While Luck also wants to prove himself as a mafioso to his brothers and everyone else, while Luck can be insecure, I don’t think his insecurities run as deep as Firo’s do. Luck’s ambitions to prove himself in 1925 are in part due to him believing in his abilities; rather than him not having what it takes, it’s a matter of people underestimating him. When he’s self-critical, when he compares himself to others, he’s usually comparing himself to people in his in-group. His brothers, or Firo.)
That is, Firo admires the ‘Slytherin’-qualities of Luck: his cunning, compsure, resourcefulness, and the achievements/success that ‘appear’ to befall Luck ‘naturally’. I now argue that Luck admires Firo’s ‘Gryffindor’ qualities. Recall I called Firo a people-person earlier–done? In 1935-B, Luck admires how well Firo handles the casino crowd after the cheater incident: Firo’s tone totally changes; he’s cheerful and conciliatory, he smooths the situation over effortlessly and expertly. He’s not always charismatic in his personal life, but he’s really good at being charismatic when he has to. Luck…?
Luck’s not so outwardly expressive; he controls situations because he is in careful control of himself. He gets flustered when dealing with hard-to-handle people (c.f. Maria). He’s not the Gandors’ spokesman because he’s naturally charismatic, he’s their spokesman because Keith is taciturn and Berga’s not, uh, loquacious (Berga = brawn). He’s suave, but not comfortably suave; not entirely he’s just…had a lot of practice at being reserved and exhibiting emotions in a restrained manner (mild smiles, narrowed eyes).
Essentially, he wears a mafioso mask/masks as needed for various situations; he’ll adapt, and he’ll improvise the best he can (adapting to Ladd volunteering as muscle in 1935…). He’s not honest and brash like Firo–Firo is Gryffindor brash and bold through and through. Firo charges; Luck plots. Ravenclaws plan too, of course, but, hm…consider this line from Luck in 1935-C: “We’ll figure out who our enemy is based on the situation. No matter who it is, I want you to carry out your job dependably…” I feel like an archetypal Ravenclaw would want to put even more effort into finding out the enemy beforehand than leaving it up to improvisation…
(Though whether post-immortality Luck considers himself–or is–as able to change is another matter. Not one I’ll get into. I really do wonder what he’s like in 2003…)
Since I’m not sure where else to address Slytherin manipulation, I’ll state now that I don’t think Luck is ‘as manipulative’ as a stereotypical Slytherin might be assumed to be. I’m not about to say Firo is a manipulative guy, but I do want to mention something @houjicha once observed about him (I believe in her ‘Never Let You Go’ fic): she observed Firo is someone who is very good at getting others to do what he wants, even if he doesn’t realize it himself. He’s not consciously or maliciously ‘manipulating’ others, but his people-skills are so good people will do what he wants without overt effort on his part. This strikes me as very Gryffindor and to a lesser extent Hufflepuff.
Thinking about Luck and manipulation…the Gandors keep the people in their territory happy by being the ‘nice mafia’, but they deal with enemies/maintain an outward fear-based reputation to potential enemies and upstarts. Tick–fear factor. Brutal executions for traitors, brutal violence from subordinates? Fear factor. They ordinarily threaten people to get what they want. Luck sometimes does this (like when he intimidates the brawlers in 1927), though once in a while he’ll try ordinary manipulation (”as a trick to” avoid getting into trouble with Luciano, he assigns Maria the 1933 job; it’s a ‘cunning’ way to keep her occupied and also investigate a rival group w/o directly involving Luciano).
Mostly it’s pressure and threats, though. Firo’s not so manipulative when it comes to intimidation or threats, I think? Luck wants to coldly pressure the clockmaker bit by bit in 1925 until he caves and sells the shop; he’ll threaten or just use Tick on people, but Firo’s over here saying this like “Leeza if you so much as touch my family I’ll mcfreaking hide in an outhouse for the rest of my life just to find Huey and make him suffer”–
–which, oof, reminds me a little of Szilard–
–anyhoo Firo’s too clumsy to be consciously manipulative and Luck’s too self-conscious to be unconsciously manipulative. Maybe. I could be wrong. Why am I doing this?!?
What about Hufflepuff loyalty?
I should also explain why I’ve ruled out Hufflepuff for Luck, since there are ‘Hufflepuff’ core traits one might link to him. Loyalty is the obvious one; Luck cares deeply for his subordinates and about the Family (the group) more than the individual. However, as I’ve stated, Slytherins can easily have cliques they prioritize/protect over everyone else; you don’t have to be a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff to have a strong ‘tribe’ to call your own. At any rate, Hufflepuffs are way more inclusive and trusting than Slytherins; I doubt just anyone joins the Gandors; they wouldn’t have survived this long if they didn’t vet their people and keep tabs on them.
(It probably wasn’t very Slytherin of Luck and his brothers to give Jorgi as many chances as they did, but I feel like if a Hufflepuff–if they were going to call out a friend at all, something they’d hate doing–would’ve openly offered that friend a second chance rather than underhandedly not tell that friend about those chances up front).
Pragmatism is something else Hufflepuffs and Slytherins share (pragmatism and risk-caution), but my understanding is Hufflepuffs are more reactive where Slytherins are proactive. With that in mind; Luck’s stressing over his apathy as an immortal is in a way him stressing over being reactive versus proactive–but overall, he and his brothers have to be proactive in order to survive. His actions in 1935 are proactive; he’s gathering info, he’s resourcefully putting together an A-Team in advance for Ra’s Lance; he’s not twiddling his thumbs until the party starts. I bet he was involved in some of the non-aggression pacts the Gandors signed before 1930, for that matter. He’s willing to take risks he has to take and feels he’s capable of taking on.
I don’t think Hufflepuffs tend to be considered as passionate as Ravenclaws or Slytherins, for that matter, and Luck, for all his brooding over apathy, is pretty passionate behind his sangfroid. Underneath his sangfroid are emotions he constantly keeps restrained–until they boil over, of course.
Thoughts on Choice?
What would Luck choose, if it were him? Unfortunately I don’t have a good response for this part, even if (or because) we pretend HP canon is irrelevant and Luck is just choosing based off traits. Luck would probably want to be in the same House as his brothers, but regardless of family? Well, I’d have to figure out what Luck values the most and what he’d want to identify with most (which is often an element people cite in House sorting), and…it’s hard to say…
Again, I wish I could say Ravenclaw, but I can’t w/o evidence. As an individual he values possessing a drive (ambition); this is personally important to him. He doesn’t consider himself a kind person, so I don’t think he’d consider himself kind in the Hufflepuff mode; he doesn’t afford everyone kindness or compassion nor, I suppose, actively think people always deserve it. He does value having emotions, value caring about others; he’s relieved when he affirms he still feels strong hatred toward the Runoratas. Now, the worse sort of Slytherins cling to hatred for the Other, but this is beside the topic of choice. I can’t figure out yet how that might influence a choice on his part.
He isn’t overly idealistic or moralistic in the stereotypical Gryffindor mode (do I think Firo is either? Sigh…I guess I should expect a Firo ask); he does want to prove himself, but not…in Gryffindor style. I just, for all Luck is ‘self-centered’ in Volume 4, I would’ve liked to see more of him outside of the mafioso context.
I mean, we spend a lot of time with Firo outside of his camorrista role; 1930 speaks for itself; his actions in 1933 aren’t actions as an exec–they’re personal; in 1934 he’s removed from the Martillo context entirely. Seeing him working as a casino manager in 1935 is pretty much a novelty, considering everything that came before. In 2002, Firo’s primary role is family man/caregiver, not contaiuolo. Not only do we spend less time with Luck in canon overall, the majority of time we spend with him is conversely when he’s in mafioso mode.
Ah, well. This was way too long. Way, way too long. I spent a good few cumulative hours on this. Hopefully you enjoyed…?
Baccano! Musings: Comparing the Genoard and Avaro Scions
(Apologies in Advance: My laptop is still at the repair center, but I had a flash of inspiration/motivation toward a Baccano! Musings post and decided to write the post out via the tablet app rather than lose the inspiration/motivation for good. Unfortunately the post turned out to be long and Tumblr has either made it impossible or very difficult to add a Read More link via the app—so in the event I can’t successfully add one, I am so sorry for the long spoilery post about to invade your dash. This post has spoilers for 1705/1711 (Maiza and Gretto’s pasts) and 1930-1933 (Eve and Dallas’ pasts)).
In a certain fashion, Eve feels like the Gretto to Dallas’ Maiza (or—Gretto the Eve to Maiza’s Dallas?). Here we have two wealthy households, whose patriarchs have tried to expand their wealth/power via drug manufacturing to different degrees. Here we have two ‘more passive’, gentler youngest siblings, both prone to ‘daydreams’ (Eve—fantasizes; Gretto—escapism); and here we have two angry, bitter older siblings, both of whom who are constantly getting into streetfights and terrorizing the local populace—both acting out, to some extent, due to being powerless at home.
(Yet—although Gretto & Eve are gentler and more passive than their older siblings—the insinuation that they are only those traits, and that Maiza and Dallas therefore do not exhibit those traits in any capacity—is unfair to the former pair, and too fair to the latter.)
Edit: I have a laptop again, hallelujah. I’ve added a Keep Reading cut now. Better late than never.
Gretto and Eve
Not that Gretto and Eve are strangers to feeling or being powerless, of course; the Genoard and Avaro scions all lack power, despite their wealth and familial power (excepting Jeffrey, I suppose, but I’m ignoring him). In the years leading up to Summer 1705 and October 1930, Gretto and Eve are helpless to prevent a distance growing between themselves and their respective older brothers—brothers who certainly care for their younger siblings, but are increasingly spending more and more time out of the house and out being menaces on the streets. There are some differences, of course: Eve prays for her brother to reform and repeatedly asks him to promise he won’t fight again; he loves her but continues to behave in ways she finds abhorrent; meanwhile, Gretto privately admires/envies his brother’s ‘courage’ for openly rebelling against their father—but that rebellion nevertheless means Maiza is leaving Gretto behind, alone, etc.
Now, Eve remains ignorant as to her family’s underworld truths up until December 1931/Jan 1932–but Gretto does become disillusioned with Lord Avaro at some point before 1711, thereby sharing Maiza’s own feelings of powerlessness with respect to family and city both. (That said, one could say Eve certainly believes she lacks the power that money does. Money = power, but it’s a power she resents and disdains wielding; she is ignorant to the truth behind her family’s money but she is not ignorant to how it has fractured and manipulated her family. She is painfully aware of it and painfully aware she can do nothing about it.)
And both Gretto and Eve are aware of their own (self-perceived) cowardice, though Gretto perhaps accepts his lack of courage as a fact of life where Eve is angry with herself for lacking it. This difference is important, for while Eve and Gretto both put their hopes in those who do have power, they do so at different times and in different ways. Gretto loves Sylvie in secret and bides his time by entertaining escapist daydreams: maybe Maiza can convince Father; maybe Father will have a complete change of character; maybe illness will claim Father’s life; maybe a revolution will take place and take down the nobility. He survives by passively putting faith in others for years.
More precisely, he survives by presuming change is inevitable. He survives—and ‘justifies’ his passivity—through deliberate good faith. “As long as I keep waiting... Something is bound to change!” (Vol 17) he tells himself, over and over and over.
Eve’s attitude toward waiting around c. 1930, however... (c.f. Vol 4):
Even so, there was nothing she could do. At the same time, she was aware that if things went on this way, something she cherished would collapse.
Terror regarding the approaching tragedy, anger at her cowardice...
For Gretto, waiting will beget change; for Eve c. 1930, waiting willl beget collapse. How interesting: for all that Eve is reminiscent of the Ingénue stock character—young, innocent, naïve via her sheltered upbringing, polite-sweet-kind—she isn’t the one who’s optimistic on this waiting point. It’s Gretto. Of course, her involuntary action in October 1930 is to pray to God—but technically she is not so much as putting her faith in God as she is invoking her faith in God; she is devout, and so she believes in God’s power and asks him to lend that power toward a miracle.
See—that difference is important after all. Eve is devout, but she only prays to God for a miracle after years of asking if not begging Dallas to reform—and her prayer is in a sense her actively trying to cause change; she does not assume change will happen otherwise. Gretto spends his time convincing himself change will happen if he just waits.
Change does come for both of them, following xyz years of uneasy happiness (Eve—one year of happiness post-prayer; Gretto—xyz years of loving Sylvie)—but unhappy change: Eve’s father and oldest brother die; Lord Avaro sends Sylvie away (to ostensibly serve a ‘womanizer’) and confines Gretto to his bedchamber. Gretto finally despairs at his own cowardice only when it is too late (during his confrontation with his Father); Eve despairs at her own passivity (is crying all she can do? Is praying enough?) and finally realizes her prayer from one year ago was escapism in its own right—her running from fear, from personal effort. She resolves to find Dallas, and heads to NYC to personally do so. Gretto—
—Gretto waits. He waits out a week of watching Lotto Valentino burn from his window, and then sets out to do a little arson himself. The question is whether this action is a courageous and cogent one—though this question largely exists because Fermet raises it. That is to say, Fermet clearly believes Gretto’s three-day “meaningless” arson spree was borne from desperation, not rationality; he opines to Lord Avaro that Gretto was acting irrationally, and furthermore that Gretto was acting at all only because Lord Avaro had effectively backed him into a corner.
Fermet is likely not...entirely wrong, to some degree. One could say it was desperation, not courage, that spurred Gretto to openly object to his father sending away Sylvie, for instance. Still, note that the narration doesn’t say Gretto’s later request for Maiza to let him and Sylvie board the AA is the “first courageous thing” he’s ever done in his life, it describes it as a show of [Gretto’s] courage in its truest form. And the narration also says that “little by little, the courage to take action” is unfolding in Gretto’s heart when he witnesses various arson attacks night after night.
When Gretto and Eve both sneak out of their manors (Gretto to Do Arson, hoping to drag the nobles into the Dormentaire-Mask Maker conflict; Eve to seek out and demand the truth of Dallas’ fate from the Gandors, intending to Do Vengeance if Dallas is dead), I suggest they do so out of courage and desperation both. Bite me, Fermet. They are acting on their own/out of their own power, this time; their first steps are their own steps. Niki visits Gretto’s window w/instructions after his three-day arson spree; Isaac and Miria visit Eve’s window one year before the Badtimes, so it is only the memory of their visit that strengthens her resolve to sneak out and act on her own.
In the end, both of them do find that they have their own power to act. Even if Gretto’s actions are as externally meaningless as Fermet thinks (and they’re not entirely; they draw suspicion towards the Avaros), they are internally meaningful; even though Eve is finding the power to Personally Search and Enact Vengeance instead of the power to reform Dallas, she is still realizing a new kind of power she did not think she possessed. After years of passively biding their time out of powerlessness, they find the power to act; to try and enact change.
After years of actively attempting to garner the power necessary to change Lotto Valentino, Maiza gives up changing LV as a lost cause and prepares to abandon the city altogether.
After being excluded from the family business on account of his youth, Dallas leaves home and actively plots to murder his father and frame his brother for the act once his grandfather dies—but when there’s no monetary inheritance to inherent, he just...resumes being a deadbeat while vaguely entertaining the idea of selling off the rest of the family land.
Maiza and Dallas
There’s a certain irony in how Maiza and Gretto believe each other of being capable to enact change where they cannot; there’s also a certain bittersweetness to it, given that as much as Maiza’s belief is probably sincere it’s concurrently an excuse for him to leave. You know, as was the case with Gretto; Gretto believes in Maiza, but believing in Maiza makes it easier for him to wait for Maiza to enact change in his stead.
(Frankly Gretto’s belief is the ‘sweet’ to Maiza’s ‘bitter’; I hate to say it, but was Maiza really spending those four years up to 1711 earnestly believing Gretto would step up and improve Lotto Valentino if he wasn’t around for whatever reason? Knowing his brother as he did, I mean—and not knowing him, perhaps, given how much time he was spending out of the house. Once he gives up on using alchemy to save LV, he does—what? Shrug and say, ‘Oh, I’m sure my brother and cousins will take care of matters just fine without me’? ‘Gretto can be faint hearted but I have full faith he can enact change on the city’, something he has totally expressed desire in doing independently and will definitely edo on his own’.
(Sure, Maiza has faith in his brother, and that faith is surely genuine enough. But it’s convenient, and he has no guarantee Gretto will actually try to change the city—he must know there’s a chance Gretto won’t, but oh well, he’ll passively accept the consequences either way.)
Also, Fermet mockingly calls Gretto’s arson meaningless and dismisses him as a “pea-brained fool” (while declaring Maiza is a greater man than Lord Avaro ever will be)—but really, what was Maiza really accomplishing with the Rotten Eggs before 1707? They were one of the nastiest LV hoodlum groups, sure, but they were going around harrassing townsfolk for the most part. Raiding trading ships here and there. If Maiza had any notions of using the Rotten Eggs to actively obstruct his Father and the drug trade (i.e. to do more beyond aimless rebellion), then he didn’t succeed considering some of the Rotten Eggs were gunning to buy the drugs off Niki in 1705.
Gretto admires Maiza for openly rebelling at all, but it seems that it’s only when Maiza has his alchemy revelation that he starts obsessing over using alchemy to change/‘save’ the city. It’s likely that Maiza didn’t harbor any notions the Rotten Eggs had any power to enact large-scale change; in other words, alchemy appeared to promise real power—an opportunity for dramatic power beyond a knife or a band of aristocratic punks—and so Maiza wanted to put his faith in the power of alchemy, and so he did. His gradual conclusion that LV can’t be ‘saved’ is tantamount to a conclusion that alchemy’s power isn’t enough to ‘save’ it (isn’t it?)—so him deciding Gretto will be able to change the air of LV where he and alchemy can’t is a bit eyebrow-raising, eh? (And that he appears to accept Dalton’s indication immortality will for sure grant him the power he needs this time even after the rest of alchemy is insufficient is...?)
Toward the end of LN17, Maiza has a disgruntled realization he’s still been a pawn in the plans of others all along once it becomes apparent Dalton had added Huey, Elmer, Szilard, and Victor to the passenger’s list in advance. Following that realization, he thinks to himself: “So the act of changing has nothing to do with the passage of time, but my own resolve...”
Sounds more like the moral of Gretto’s story/a conclusion that Gretto should have reached at a glance, but before that thought, Maiza thinks, “I’d thought that even I could come to change with the passage of time...” and ho! What’s that? Strains of passivity, you say?
Ah, but while we’re on the topic of characters being pawns in others’ plans... Dallas is similarly no stranger to being a pawn (and pawning bibelots, for that matter). He likes to act as if it’s all a part of his plans (we’ll let Szilard use us and then...) but it’s not like he’s cool with it in practice (c.f. Tim)—well, he’s absolutely cool with using others as pawns for his plans, of course. Regarding powerlessness, I almost want to say Dallas only becomes acutely aware of feeling powerless in 1933–really aware—because I don’t necessarily think powerlessness would have occurred to him as a reason for why he left home in the first place. I’d say Maiza was probably more aware of his own lack of ‘meaningful’ power in his early days than Dallas was.
It’s not as if...Dallas isn’t full of proactive plans. He plots to kill his father/frame his brother; he later fully intends to exact revenge upon Firo/Isaac & Miria/Ennis/et cetera and attempts to use Jacuzzi’s gang against Tim and company. He actively hocks objects from the estate so that he can later gamble at Ra’s Lance (hoping to earn a hefty profit there). So he’s proactive in many respects—he is resolved in many respects—but none of those resolutions are really geared toward self-improvement or internal change (or grand-scale external change as Maiza might have once hoped for). He’s still fully beholden to money’s power as he was pre-1930; the internal change he places the most import on is a change in power status, power amassed.
I’ve always loved Maiza far more than Dallas despite Maiza’s own delinquent past resembling Dallas’ delinquent...present in certain respects (though of course Maiza is not introduced to us as his hotheaded delinquent self); I’ve been more invested in Maiza’s character than I have been in Dallas’ path—but in thinking about Gretto and/vs Eve, and Maiza and/vs Dallas, I think I’ve gained a stronger desire to see Dallas’ story turn out for the better. Immortality cost Maiza a brother; perhaps it can gain Eve one this time around. I know, I know; Maiza has Firo and the Martillos now—but it would be nice if Eve and Dallas could do what Maiza and Gretto didn’t have the chance to do. To mend the distance between them and bolster the sibling bond between them; to change their relationship dynamic, if not themselves.
Misc Thoughts re: Edith and Sylvie, Vol 4 and Vol 17
I believe there are all sorts of additional trains of thought that can be taken from here, and that the thoughts I’ve already written down (and the thoughts I’m about to voice) can feasibly be expanded on—but it’s 2 AM and I want to get this post out rather than put it off for another day; I can always reblog with follow-up expansion or do a separate follow-up post.
For now, I just want to briefly comment on Edith and Roy in Vol 4 and Sylvie in Vol 17. Regarding Volume 4, we have Edith and Roy’s story playing out alongside that of Eve and (the absent) Dallas: in a sense, Edith and Eve are both stepping up where their boyfriend and their brother have failed them; they’re both acting after having spent too long in failing to change Roy and Dallas with words. Both women have at past points in time secured promises from Roy and Dallas to stop (taking drugs; fighting); Roy and Dallas have both reneged on those promises. Edith and Eve’s requests and pleas have long fallen on cottoned ears—but they both resolve to act in lieu of the men instead.
(Roy lands himself in hot water with the mafia—and Edith resolves to protect him, to go on the offense against those who might harm him.)
Sylvie in Vol 17, too, is not content to remain passive and idle like Gretto—though in her case she does not blame Gretto for his passivity and views it as his greatest strength and weakness; she has resolved to protect him long before 1711’s events. So in 1711, she decides she will act to protect their love, their relationship even though it will come at the cost of someone else’s misery; she sits, ‘sharpening her fangs’, as she wonders to whom she will have to direct her enmity toward.
Unfortunately she never truly gets the chance to do much in this vein, since Gretto sets his room on fire not long after she reaffirms this resolution (sigh)—but I think her resolve and her train of thought are both still notable. Sylvie and Eve aren’t content to wait forever; Sylvie, Eve, and Edith all are willing to and do (ish, re: Sylvie) step up in lieu of the men in their lives yet simultaneously for their sakes.
(Hell, when it comes to Szilard, Maiza is more passive compared to Sylvie’s active ness: Maiza spends a lot of his time hiding from Szilard’s detection and simultaneously waiting for Szilard to find him so he can finally ‘finish it’; Sylvie shrewdly holds off on drinking the elixir until she looks quite different from her 17-year-old self (a tactical move) and actively seeks Szilard for some period of time for the sake of Revenge. Maiza waits for Szilard to come to him; Sylvie searches for him outright.)
@hrh-gwen remarked a little earlier on Discord that “it was Maiza’s being close to Gretto that doomed him, [while] Eve gained strength in Dallas’ absence” and having just read that remark I would like to say I am in Pain, thanks for that, Gwen; this is also further fueling my desire for Eve and Dallas’ fate to turn out differently to that of Gretto and Maiza.
I now really want to continue down some of these trains of thoughts, but I think I will have to resign myself to a follow-up post since it is now 2:30 AM (putting aside the ‘sleep good’ theory, I’m rapidly running out of mental acuity and steam; I’d rather ‘save some of this enthusiasm for later’ rather than burn out on the post entirely before I post it). It’s already somewhat long, and I’m not entirely sure whether a ‘keep reading’ will work via app (I’ve had issues with that before). Fingers crossed.
1)This is gonna be a hard question to ask without spoiling the novels but I'm curious on your take (fyi I've read the first 8 volumes at this point), but I've found Claire and Chane's relationship frustrating in regards to Huey. Claire has been my favourite character since I first watched the series in 2010 or 2011, but I've found his behaviour in the books, complicated to say the least. I was happy to see Chane's development with Jacuzzi and realising that Huey may not be as good as she thought
> “Without Spoiling the Novels” / “I don’t want to be spoiled…”
> “…but I’ve done a bit of light reading on the wiki…”
Anon noooooo… a lot of the articles’ intro paragraphs have spoilers…the infoboxes have spoilers…! Anon nooooooo…
I mean, I get the temptation, I’ve been there myself; might make answering this a little tricky, though. For instance, if you’ve even glanced at Chané’s infobox or her intro paragraphs, chances are you probably know who her mother is (despite only being up to Vol 8). But I can’t be sure that you know (nor do I know if you’ve read Vols 9-10 since your ask) so… yep, I’ll try to stay within the limits of Vols 1-8 for this.
(There is content in the 1935 arc I’d like–have liked to–bring up, but maybe it’s for the best since that’s ‘in the future’ of where you’re at anyway.)
I’ll put my main thoughts/response under the cut.
I’ve dithered over how I should ‘begin’ this response, because there’s probably better angles to start from than others. Ah well; so long as I’m still able to cover my main points…
Here’s something to chew on: Are you sure Chané hasn’t been moving away from Huey?
Better question: Do you or do you not think Chané has been developing as a character post-FPF? You say you’re happy to see her “develop with Jacuzzi,” only to later say, “And I was…expecting her to develop and move away from him,” but what do you (or we) constitute as development for her?
I’ll be straight with you, anon: I’m not sure if Chané can ever fully abandon her father in her heart. But I do believe she can live a life that does not revolve around him, because she does. Not just in the decades leading up to 2002, but (as I’ll soon discuss) in the years leading up to December 1934.
Well, to a point. Of course he is still constantly on her mind, and Chané in 1934 is still hoping for a sign from him; if he would only just appear and tell her to jump, she would eagerly ask “how high?” So, I won’t deny she’s not ‘moved away’ from Huey as far as you wish she was by this stage.
But…let’s keep in mind that it has only been three years since the Flying Pussyfoot and four years without Huey–four years versus the entirety of her life prior spent with him. When we speak of Chané’s ‘fanatic devotion’, we are speaking of devotion which she has felt toward Huey since she was a child; feelings which Huey not only passively accepted but almost certainly deliberately cultivated.
[Digression Alert: The next few paragraphs ruminate on Huey’s parental methods. Ctrl/CMD+F to “Ramble1 End” if you want to skip.]
Just as he ever so “carefully, meticulously” raised Leeza, whose world also revolves around her ‘God’ Huey (even though she has access to the world through her vessels in a way Chané never had!). For the vast majority of Chané‘s life, her father is the only person she has. Who is even remotely kind to her, albeit deliberate in how he is kind. The Lemures? Even if she was interested in them as people, they’re not interested in her and are generally terrible people.
Is Huey a terrible person? Sure, we know that. Is he interested in Chané as a guinea pig and not as a daughter? Checkaroo. But he is interested in Chané–the only person who is interested and invested in her for years. She wants to make him happy and be useful because she loves him–and because he is the only one who cares.
(A child’s self-worth and self-concept heavily depend on their parents (and teachers/friends/relatives/etc over the years). What they take pride in, what makes them feel accomplished, what they value, metrics of ‘good’ and ‘not good enough’–these are influenced by [the validation or rejection of] their peers.
(Chané lacked variety as a child: variety of standards; expectations; experiences. There was only ever Huey’s standards and the experiences he allowed her and those he withheld. There were no other teachers to assign her tasks, no friends to compete against. Huey was her sole taskmaster and arbiter; in giving her things to accomplish, he gave her purpose. In giving her purpose, he became her purpose. She had no one else to please. No one else to prove herself to. No piano teacher to practice for, no counselor to ask, What are you interested in? What are your dreams?, no one else at all for whom her existence had value.)
(How did Elmer have value during his first ten years of existence? By being a ‘god’ through which his community could relieve its pain, and thus giving them smiles and happiness. His rescue came at the ‘cost’ of his purpose and the only people for whom his existence had value. What did he do after the fact? He chose to continue giving people–all people–happiness for his sake, not theirs; he repurposed his purpose for himself.)
Parents’ individual dynamics/relationships with their children, how they view and treat and interact with their children…these are things which to some degree evolve organically over time. Everything Huey has ever said or done to Chané– every order, every compliment, every thank you, every comforting touch–has been calculated.
Sorry in advance for this comparison, but… it’s similar to how Fermet raises Czes except w/o the later physical abuse. Fermet very carefully nurtures Czes from the moment he starts looking after him. He is sugar and spice and everything which ensures Czes latches onto him and trusts him in the wake of his (totally not orchestrated) orphaning.
@toushindai suggests in her fic The Boy’s Decision that Fermet deliberately kept the trauma of Czes losing his family fresh in Czes’ mind in the years leading up to 1711, and this makes a lot of sense to me. We see Huey doing something similar with Leeza in the 1934 arc (in Vol 10, when in reassuring her he is careful to leave her ill will toward another character intact). Both men know how to tune their children’s hearts to the melodies they desire.
[Ramble1 End. ‘Several’ might have been an understatement…]
I am no psychiatrist or psychologist, but neither are Claire, Jacuzzi, or anyone else close to Chané during those three post-Huey years–and frankly I think they’d have to be if they wanted to actively, directly decouple Chané from her Huey-centric upbringing. If a person you only just met suddenly lost contact with the sole person who’d given them praise and purpose (or any semblance of a support system), a person whom they’d known their whole life…
…their “sole reason for being” to quote Volume 14…
…would they not want to do anything to get that person back? How do you help them move on (from a person you barely know anything about)? Where do you start? And even if you try…would they listen?
For the sake of argument, we must first acknowledge and set aside the fact that the universe itself is ensuring Chané cannot put her past with Huey behind her. You’ve seen this with 1933, when Tim and the Larva show up at Jacuzzi’s doorstep–people she later hears Dallas say are working for Huey. You’ve seen it in Volume 8, where Spike and the Former Felix show up to ask her what Huey is planning. It’s hard to move on from Huey when his experiments are potentially involving your friends.
Even if we set aside the above, there’s still a problem: Chané doesn’t want to forget her father. She doesn’t want to assume he will never contact her again. She doesn’t want to have become useless to him.
So…how well do you think Claire outright saying, “You should just forget Huey, the bum” would go over with her?
Not well, I imagine. In 1931/1932 she’s liable to pull a knife on you if you so much as threaten to threaten Huey. She holds Jacuzzi at knifepoint just for saying Huey’s name when he finds her right after she misses her chance to mount a rescue. Even when Claire asks whether she likes him or Huey more in Volume 9, she “tells him off” so strongly that he apologizes and doesn’t press it.
(To my knowledge, that is the only time he ever asked her to ‘choose’ between him and Huey; it wasn’t even a serious, permanent choice, and yet she still reacted badly).
(Hey, remember how Leeza asked Huey which one of his daughters is more important to him in Vol 7 and he immediately answered Leeza?)
Telling a smoker that they should quit cold-turkey and rattling off reasons why…doesn’t have a high success record. They usually know the reasons why. Telling people outright, “this person you love is bad, forget them” has a good chance of backfiring. Telling Chané what she should and shouldn’t do, how she should and shouldn’t feel…to say she should deny Huey as if it’s that easy (as if he isn’t important to her)…
To say, “don’t answer when Huey comes knocking…”
Good luck with that knife.
However: just because Claire (and/or Jacuzzi’s gang) probably wouldn’t have much luck that route doesn’t mean they haven’t been helping her indirectly.
Before I get to that, I do want to point out that what Claire knows about Huey by 1934…isn’t actually that much. Remember: even if he was against the Lemures on the FPF, he learned through Ladd that Huey was against the hijacking plan, thereby making Huey (and Chané) comparatively okay in his book.
Let me repeat: in the immediate aftermath of the FPF, Claire’s Huey knowledge mostly amounts to, 1) was opposed to the hijacking, and 2) Chané loves Huey and will oppose me if I oppose him.
If Claire wasn’t aware that Huey is a researcher who experiments on ‘guinea pigs’ before the 1933 arc, he’s definitely made aware of it there. While he and Christopher are fighting, Chris tells him about how he and the Lamia’s personalities were practically formed by Huey’s experiments. Claire muses that Huey may have been a biased researcher–and speaking of that fight, let me just highlight this point Claire makes: “Didn’t Huey ever teach you it’s better not to tell people what you can’t do?“
(Hint hint.)
He probably didn’t know much about this side of Huey before Mist Wall, though; when he and Chané are taking the elevator down, he muses that he doesn’t know much about the world of Huey, Nebula, and the Lamia and decides he should pay Huey a visit the “next time” something happens.
He hasn’t paid that visit by Vols 8-9, though, so in 1934 I can’t say that he has much of a stronger idea of who Huey is as a person. In Vol 9 (sorry, I know I should try to limit myself to Vol 8), when Chané worries Huey may have singled out Jacuzzi’s gang as test subjects post-Mist Wall, Claire’s response amounts to: “It’s fine. Your dad will understand. You still love him a lot, even now, right? […] Then there’s no problem.”
Claire then says he will protect everyone Chané cares about (aka Jacuzzi’s gang) because what’s important to her is important to him…but my real point here is that “your dad will understand” is an…optimistic take on Huey and one that I’d say suggests Claire by 1934 still doesn’t have much reason to think badly of Huey.
Claire can read Chané‘s feelings super well, but he’s also Mr. “Has no common sense when it comes to other people’s hearts” and sometimes Mr. Oblivious (especially when he is missing information). How much does he really know about Huey’s treatment of Chané? The only person who can tell him how Chané was treated (up to/by 1934) is Chané herself, but she doesn’t…feel horribly about her upbringing.
She’s already aware that the only time her father shows genuine emotion is when he speaks about Elmer. In fact, she privately acknowledges that Elmer is the only person [Huey] treats as human (this is in 1933, but she must have known these things for years). She knows and accepts that Huey can and will see her as a guinea pig. The Huey-related emotions Claire usually reads off her are familial love and fear–but not fear of Huey. Fear of Huey being hurt/killed. Fear of having to choose between Huey and someone else.
Even if Claire knew everything about how Huey raised Chané, I can’t promise he’d still be inclined to say “that was wrong. You shouldn’t wait up for him.” As we saw earlier, he believes that telling people what they shouldn’t/can’t do is bad. And he doesn’t want to ever back Chané into a corner, to make her feel like she has to choose between him and Huey. That there’s an either/or, that his love is conditional. To make her feel like she can’t trust him.
So he doesn’t tell her should nots and cannots. He tells her wills and cans. In volume 3, he says she is welcome in his world anytime. He tells her when they reunite that he won’t destroy her world just by entering it; he promises that her world will expand instead.
And it does. He proves to her that he is right; her world does expand with him and the gang in it, and just as it changes for the better, she changes alongside it.
How do Claire and the gang help and change Chané? Simply by being themselves.
They do not force Chané to be anything. To change her the way ‘they think’ she should change. Chané has been sculpted enough by her father; let her become her own sculptor for once.
Claire and Jacuzzi’s gang are sincere and welcoming, and accept Chané while already knowing she is Huey’s daughter. They never comment on her origins or make her feel ashamed or unwanted. Chané finds herself growing to believe in and care for them; an organic process, her process. She admits in Vol 7 that Jacuzzi and the others haven’t just become second only to her father–they have become “just as important as–her father.”
Just as important! For the first time in her life, she has gained people she is terrified of losing (not that she doesn’t want to lose her father, but her father is immortal; these people are mortal, and have the potential to become guinea pigs). When she thinks about all this in 1933, she is filled with “violent, quaking emotions” at the thought of her father ordering her to sacrifice her companions’ lives. And later, when Leeza asks what Chané would do if Huey ordered her to kill Claire, she feels that fear again.
Elmer, after being torn from his community and defrocked of his purpose in life…didn’t actually reject that purpose. He embraced it for himself. Chané for so long had defined herself as Huey’s tool, wanting to protect him with her life–and without him, what does she do? She finds new companions to protect; who she wants to protect, and who want to protect her.
You said yourself, anon, that you were happy to see Chané develop with Jacuzzi. Allow me to highlight this passage from Volume 6:
She loved her father. In order to protect him, she thought she’d do anything.
And with equal intensity— she loved her current companions.
She spent her days wondering whether there was anything she could do for them. She felt as though, for the first time in her life, she’d found her own reason for living, and so she’d stayed with Jacuzzi’s group.
She had wanted to make sure she wouldn’t regret the present, the days she’d chosen to have.
Bolding mine. I know she’s still waiting for Huey and believing in him, anon, but…is the above not significant progress? Is it not significant? She has found her own reason for living. Her own purpose, one that was not molded or tainted by Huey, one that she chose on her own.
Claire and the gang have proven that there is a world for Chané that does not require Huey’s active presence; a good world, a world she can choose to care for and does care for.
Since you are worried and doubtful that Claire and the gang have done ‘enough’ (’as much as they should have done’), my instinct is that the wiki browsing is what has instilled The Concerns. Specifically, I’m thinking you caught just enough glimpses of what’s in store for Chané in the 1935 arc and are now casting a more critical eye on her experiences up until now. Why didn’t Claire try harder? Maybe he should have made her choose between him and Huey.
Well…let me offer an observation: in a way, what you’re worrying is that Chané will regress back to being Huey’s tool; in worrying that Claire didn’t help her develop/grow enough, you’re worried she’s still in a stage where she can lose the progress she’s made.
What does this mean? It means that Chané has character development to lose.
She has changed, and that’s why we’re all worried for her sake in 1935 (never said otherwise, did I?). Because 1935 is what her character arc has been leading up to, and yes, it involves her connection to Huey. Yes, Claire’s presence is felt. But it isn’t imposed.
I don’t want to go into 1935 much because spoilers (and I don’t know how much you have or haven’t spoiled yourself there), but I want to quote Toushindai from her musings on (link has slight spoilers) ‘choice’ and ‘change’ as themes in Baccano!: “…One of Baccano!’s strongest suits is allowing its characters to be themselves. Respecting the choices they make as choices that make sense for them even when they may not be ideal.”
Tou goes on to use Chané in 1935 as an example of this, and honestly Chané is just a good example period. Claire and Jacuzzi’s crew help Chané by being kind and supportive and welcoming, and by giving her agency. They respect her choices and values, they do not force her out of her comfort zone. There are no conditions to their support. No, “We are here for you, but…” Just, “We are here for you.”
Just being themselves is already enough to affect Chané’s heart by 1933. When she considers what she would do if Huey ever ordered her to kill Jacuzzi’s gang, she thinks she would prioritize her father’s orders, but the thought paralyzes her with fear. If she hadn’t moved away from Huey at all, she wouldn’t have hesitated whatsoever; kill Jacuzzi’s gang? Your wish is my command.
I can’t say Chané‘s situation as of 1934 sucks; not when I think her moving in with Jacuzzi’s gang is the best thing that’s ever happened to her. Claire and Jacuzzi’s gang have provided her with the warmth and love she never truly got from Huey, and that alone is worth so, so much.
None of them are therapists or psychologists or social workers or what have you; they’re mostly kids and young adults just trying to get by. Most of them, Claire included, really have no idea when it comes to her upbringing–but the message that she matters and not her past isn’t a bad one for her to hear. They do not define her by her relation to Huey; they define her as herself. They offer her real warmth and love (and a willing ear should she want to confide), and it is hard to ask for more.
When Chané pleads for Claire not to help her, what does he say? Don’t worry, Chané! You can just be yourself. I love you however you are.
Unconditional support is one of the most powerful things a person can have.
Chané has it.
(How does one be oneself when one has been someone else’s tool? How does one find self-worth and self-concept outside of one’s relationships with and worth for others?)
Claire and Jacuzzi’s gang don’t want her to be their tool, their weapon, their shield. They want her to be herself. They want her to make her own choices, and will respect those choices.
I dunno. I think that it’s…very in the spirit of Baccano! that Chané changes due to the authenticity of others. Where so many members of Durarara!!’s cast are hiding secrets from each other and themselves, so many of Baccano!’s characters are being authentic to themselves and celebrating that authenticity instead.
Chané is raised by someone who, at that stage in his life, is inauthentic to his true self. She is raised by a man whose every action and word is a calculated effort, given choice but also the illusion of choice (he doesn’t force her to follow him, and she wants to follow him…but when did she ever know any alternative?). It is only when she meets Claire and the others, people who are authentic to their true selves, that she starts blossoming her own colors.
Ah, I know I’m bringing this to a close, but I forgot to bring up some of her Volume 8 thoughts before, so… I just want to point out how in Vol 8 Chané says Claire and Jacuzzi’s gang had simultaneously made her sad following her father’s incarceration and banished her loneliness. That, and she seriously considers bringing up her father and the ‘research’ she doesn’t know about to Jacuzzi and the others. To discuss it with them.
I don’t know about you, but I take that as an encouraging sign. Who knows what she might be willing to open up about in a few years time? What I do know is that Claire and Jacuzzi’s gang have been good for her, and I really don’t want to discount that.
(In a hypothetical scenario where they did their honest utmost to sever the bond between her and Huey, and in the very unlikely scenario where she’d be receptive to this…would their efforts still be ‘successful’? What about in the event Huey shows up to reclaim her? Because it’s one thing to say “I feel fine, I won’t come running when he calls,” but when he does come calling…well, I’d say there’s a high chance she’d come running anyway.
(These things are never as easy as we’d like them to be. And definitely not easy enough for a group of street kids to actively ‘deprogram’ or ‘undo’.)
I’m trying to think of a good closing line but it’s half past midnight as I type this my place has been a tinderbox for the past several hours so I’m a little keyed up at the moment, oh boy. And I suppose that what I said about opening also applies here: it’s a Tumblr post, and perhaps what matters more than a winning opening/closing is that all the points that needed to be made have been made in-between.
Well, knowing me, I made my points and then made the same points again but more emphatically while missing some obvious counterargument, har har. Hm, all except this one: maybe try not to scour the wiki too much if you’re trying to avoid spoilers, anon; even light browsing is liable to get you into trouble. If you have any updates/new thoughts on this once you catch up to the 1935 arc, ehhh shoot them my way.
I guess I’ll schedule this for the morning… see you then!
I was wondering what your thoughts are on Luck? I enjoy your analysis greatly so just a general idea on what you think about him would be amazing! But to ask a specific question how do you feel about Luck/Eve (obviously when she's grown up.) Do you think there is any merit to this ship?
That he steals all of Keith’s spotlight. And Berga’s, for that matter.
Hah. Nah, don’t worry–I don’t actually resent him for being the face of the Gandors. Of course he’s their go-to spokesperson: a handsome young gentleman who’s courteous and suave? Of course he’s their voice. Without him, it would be a choice between a brash, intimidating hulk and a reticent man with a gangster’s face & dangerous air…Yet Luck isn’t as suave or ‘put-together’ as he seems, and I think that counts for a lot in terms of him being interesting as a character.
(Ahem. Thank you for the ask, anon! It’s both unexpected and flattering. I may celebrate Keith a whole lot, but I naturally like Luck too! I tend to talk about Keith more because I love him and the fandom appreciates Luck the most out of the Gandors as it is… but I appreciate Luck, too! I’ve written more fics with him than I have Keith, huh…)
I’d also like to apologize again for how…not prompt this response was. The explanation is a combo of “real life” / “I went novel-checking while writing it, which takes time” / “vIDeO gAMEs” / and “a low-key crisis of doubt about discussing fictional characters as sparked by my friend, who dislikes/thinks poorly of the trend wherein ‘people talk about characters as if they are people” haha…ha…
…which made me quite nervous about my response to this question, augh. I hope there’s something, anything worthwhile in it. It’s somewhat of a long, rambling stream-of-thought response, so it’s not polished I’m afraid.
TL;DR: Manners maketh the man, but flaws make for an interesting man and Luck is especially beholden to this. He’s an overthinker; his politeness is not necessarily genuinely felt; and his outward sangfroid is often repressing passionate emotions or otherwise concealing personal turmoils which are notably introspective in nature. And, notably, murderous intent. He’s carrying out a role/duty he’s not suited for but one he inherited and chose to inherit.
An old soul who’d have probably been better off as a writer or poet… Even then - even with his evident insight/perceptiveness (the ‘wise sophisticate’ to Firo’s street urchin) - he’s not flawless, playing greenhorn to Keith’s intuition/experience c.f. 1935-B. And he’s aware of that, to some extent. There’s a lot to him (as a person, not mafioso) that’s worth respecting. He’s quite aware of his immortality, for that matter, and worries for its consequences. (Especially apathy, which…!!)
There’s a lot to him (as a person, not mafioso) that makes him simply likable. He’s filling his father’s shoes and - in spite of their ill-fit - wearing them rather well, all things considered. In spite of what he thinks, he’s a rather excellent fellow. (…For the mafia, one should perhaps say.)
Full content under the cut.
Edit: I reblogged this with a few additional thoughts in the reblog. Reblog here if you need the link.
Luck in the anime (first impressions)
I was first introduced to Luck in the anime (as most of us were), where he certainly was a “handsome young gentleman, suave and courteous” and not much else. Cool? Absolutely. So svelte, even after being gunned down. Good to his friends/family? Seemed like it. Capable of smiling? Check!
I liked these things about him…and I latched on to his brief Episode 1 scene with Poe’s poem + his relationship with death because it was the only scrap of depth he got in the entire anime. It’s probably the most (emotionally) vulnerable he is, since usually he’s calm and collected. Hell, he’s more obviously angry when he says, “Who thought they could ventilate me?” versus when he shoots Dallas - more on this later.
“Debonair” might not be a bad word to describe Anime!Luck, and here’s the thing: debonair attitudes sure are great, but I don’t know if that’s the most apt adjective for LN!Luck personality-wise. Luck in the light novels has a certain style and charm to him (often but not always) - but he’s not as confident as ‘debonair’ would imply…
Anime!Luck has practically no flaws, at least ones that are meaningful to the story. He’s the debonair pretty-boy type fans swoon over. LN!Luck is flawed, and he’s more dynamic and interesting because of those flaws. (Well, it helps that we get to spend time in his head). I often say the anime renders Firo less interesting than he in the novels, but…I think the anime shafts Luck and Eve’s characters more severely. And speaking of LN!Luck…
Not Suited to be a Mafioso: the Overthinker (+ the Pressure of Expectations)
Both the narrative and various characters opine that Luck is not really suited to be Mafia, and if this were a matter of “tell vs show” then anime-only viewers would probably have a hard time believing this, right? Suave, seemingly always in control… But we’re shown his thought and actions that support the claim - and frankly, Firo, Claire, and the others are right. He’s not. Bless him, though, he tries, and frankly he’s not half-bad at making do.
I have Luck firmly pinned as someone who overthinks. Just, all the time. Overthinking isn’t necessarily a bad trait; it’s not necessarily even bad for a mafioso, since rash decisions can easily have bad consequences. But it’s certainly not ideal for a mafioso leader, as overthinking can lead to indecisiveness/prolong decisions–when being a leader is all about making decisions. It doesn’t help one’s image, either. Thoughtfulness is a good thing, but lacking confidence and decisive action is not.
(Never forget how the Gandors waffled over how to punish Edith. They didn’t even come up with the haircut punishment, that was Claire-via-Tick. Luckily for them that was a private situation; displaying such indecisiveness/uncertainty in front of one’s subordinates invites doubt in one’s leadership.)
I believe that overthinking tendency is probably innate…but at the same time, I suspect it was likely exacerbated during his childhood and especially his adolescence. Luck was already an executive as a ‘teenager’ by September 1925. As both the youngest executive and brother to the Gandor don, he must have–he certainly had–felt immense pressure to live up to expectations.
I expect that quite a bit of this pressure came from within. Considering how Randy and Pezzo indulgently tease him in 1925 (and how people called him ‘Young Master’ and ‘The Little Gandor Fiend’ for ages)… it feels like other mafiosi didn’t take him that seriously as an executive and likely expected him to make mistakes.
Naturally Luck wanted to prove them wrong, to prove his worth. Moreover, he wanted to prove himself to his older brothers and make them proud/not disappoint them. (Just because people would understand him making mistakes doesn’t mean the Gandors can afford many of them. Keith might forgive him, but the underworld would still take advantage of his weakness).
(Well, there’s a family pride in the business and a perceived mission/duty to protect the territory; feelings that Luck has and shares with his brothers).
I also think maybe there’s a hint of anxiety to that? Not, say, clinical anxiety, but…such pressure coupled with knowing that failure has severe consequences is surely not anxiety-free. Especially for someone who cares as much for his men as Luck does: mistakes often result in death in the underworld, and being directly responsible for his men’s deaths would weigh heavily on him.
A Digression on Luck and Firo
Speaking of Luck’s relationship with his brothers - what’s funny is that Firo envies Luck as a ‘model Mafia boss’ and feels a little insecure compared to him–but Luck is the same with his brothers. In 1935-B, he envies Keith and Berga for their natural ‘gangster’/‘fighter’ appearances–that just by looking at them one can tell they’re likely mafia/criminals.
I appreciate that about him as a character, by the way. I especially appreciate that Firo admires him despite knowing he is not suited to be mafia. That Firo admires him is–important. Calling Luck a ‘foil’ to Firo’s character doesn’t sound right, nor does ‘rival’, mm…but it does sort of feel like Narita positions him as a counter to Firo, ish?
Luck’s probably the character the closest to “Firo’s level” out of the Little Italy crew, circa 1930. They’re around the same age, give or take a couple years, and the respective ‘youths’ of their organizations. Narita could have played up the standard animanga tropes more: made them equally immature best friends; or maybe gone all the way with the ‘childhood rival’ aspect, having them compete for being the best that ever was. He could have made Luck a ‘natural’ mafioso, to give Firo that ‘underdog shonen protagonist’ edge–that whole, “my friend/rival is naturally gifted while I, the Underdog, have to struggle and work).
But while there is a small sense of ‘rivalry’ to their relationship–wherein Firo admires Luck and feels he is a step or tour behind him–their good-natured positive feelings for each other are the backbone of their friendship, not the rivalry aspect, and I’m very glad for that. Firo may be envious, but rather than thinking of it as a competition he has to win, he focuses on improving himself instead.
(God, now I’m really glad Narita didn’t make Luck the ‘natural prodigy gangster’. Though, was there really a chance of that? A good many– if not the majority– of Baccano!’s cast are self-made people, with Claire the obvious exemplar; even he, as untouchable and awe-some as he is, worked hard to achieve his skills and strength. It’s such a core part of who he is that I can’t help but think it’s a trait Narita inherently admires in characters (and finds more interesting than ‘natural talent’).
Actually, I wonder if what Firo really admires is not quite that Luck “is a perfect mobster” - but that Luck manages to pull it off, as he knows Luck isn’t suited for the life. Luck isn’t the only performative one of the two; yes, I know that one can bring up performativity with everything but… there’s how Firo idolizes the macho/manly Italian gangsters of cinema and wants to be like them. He has specific ideas as to what a ‘quintessential mobster’ is, and I expect wants to emulate them.
So, seeing his childhood friend growing into this ‘role of a lifetime’ - an actor, just like those of the pictures… there’s a contrast, there. One Firo sees himself, and one I think we naturally see in the prose (beyond when it’s pointed out). That’s the other thing: by having Luck as the character who’s “already made it,” having him there as the composed perfect mafioso, we get to watch Firo mature by his side, comparing him to the ‘standard’ Narita has set.
I’m beating a dead horse now, but I do want to at least say that my thoughts on Luck and Firo’s relationship have been in part fueled by the 1935-A scene wherein they’re talking at Firo’s casino. Luck’s very much the “perfect mafioso” there, mature and sharp and asking all the right questions…
…but Firo’s no slouch in that scene either, competent in his casino management and altogether independent (?). It’s one of the scenes where I find myself aware of how he’s grown since 1930, a little more mature/’adult’ – and I think now that may because Luck’s there serving as the ‘control’. He’s the standard. He’s been at Firo’s side the longest - and as we the audience have watched these characters throughout the years, he’s the constant.
(Oh, re: that aside about ‘working hard’ and ‘natural Mafioso’: the Gandors and Claire are family, but how often do we examine why Claire likes them beyond ‘family’ reasons? It occurs to me that one of the reasons he likes them so much is probably because he knows firsthand how hard they work, and hard work is something he truly respects.)
Performative Courtesy, Sangfroid versus Temper/Violence, ‘Kindness’
A lot of people would like to be like Luck, I imagine; good looks, suave sangfroid, gentleman’s manners and all. It’s certainly earned him a lot of fans. But no, Luck wishes he were more like the brothers he admires and wants to live up to. It’s no surprise Luck would habitually overthink things in such an environment. I…wouldn’t be surprised if his performative courtesy has its roots in his adolescence as well. 1925!Luck is endeavoring to be ever so mature, and the adult authority he assumes when confronting the clockmaker is reminiscent of his adult self–the poise, the resolute, firm delivery, all of it.
I’ve called him an ‘old soul’ at heart, but…when you think about it, he had to act older than he is for much of his youth. I’d like to think that his courtesy is in some part sincerely meant, but passages like these:
“For this country, Luck was a strange man: He always wore a faint smile, and he spoke politely to anyone who was older than he was, even if they were his subordinate. However, Jorgi knew: The only part of his face that was really smiling was his lips, and there was always a hard-boiled light in his eyes.” (The Rolling Bootlegs, 70).
–serve as a…straightforward reminder it’s often performative. Goodness knows his ‘sangfroid’ is – there’s straight up a line in 1935-B that goes, “Luck put back the mask of calm he showed everybody except for his two brothers” and…that speaks for itself, really. We all remember how he acts in 1930 with regards to Mike and the others’ deaths. He has this whole mini-speech where he recognizes + openly acknowledges how intense his anger and desire for revenge are (speaking of which his instinctive emotional reaction is downright murderous?) - and requests his brothers stop him if he snaps.
And later, once he confronts Dallas… First of all, Dallas turns around to face him in the novels–so when he shoots Dallas, it’s right between his eyes. Not so in the anime, where Dallas never turns around. Second, curiously enough, the final build-up to the shot is just dialogue in the novel. The single exclamation point is the main affectation of his anger that the dialogue offers - it’s afterward where we get Luck’s “oh sorry I wasn’t calm after all” apology.
But with a little imagination… Luck was face to face with Dallas, which means he was watching Dallas’ expression, as Dallas lied through his teeth (blaming Firo, at that). It’s not hard to imagine his fury boiling hotter and hotter the longer the lie went on. Still–the moment his fury boiled over, he shot.
He went through with murder, just as he thought he might (albeit a different method). I’m…actually not sure if that was his first murder (though I’d note that Keith and Berga immediately shot dead the other two so that Luck “wouldn’t shoulder the burden alone” hmmm), but the fact remains he committed it.
In painting Luck as the suave gentlemen, it’s easy to forget how passionate his emotions can be - and tempting to ignore that the intense emotions he feels include murderous ones. Violent ones.
(And if we compare him again to Firo, that’s…intriguing. I said in a response to a past askmeme that I often associate Firo with violence, and I said that his violence “manifests itself in short, highly brutal spurts” (something to that effect) …but Luck appears to stew in specific, murderous thoughts.
(Not that Firo isn’t capable of nursing long-term hatred- fear + anger basically fuels his hunt for Dallas in 1933, and he’s just full of antagonistic feelings about Melvi throughout 1935…but I don’t know if those feelings are as…articulated/inherently murderous as Luck’s? What they do share is feeling such hostile intent towards those who have done their family/friends wrong – I don’t think Firo holds grudges against those who have done him personal wrong with the same intensity.)
Sorry, rambling. I just…it’s important that we talk about and highlight how Luck has murderous thoughts, not just because he’s often romanticized as the handsome, suave gentleman but because he is often referred to as kind. Kind by the underworld’s standards, that is, but…still.
It’s easy to think of him as “one of the good ones,” to cite how his syndicate protests its residents and doesn’t deal in drugs, to cite the Edith ‘punishment’ and all the chances he and his brothers gave Jorgi, to celebrate his showdown with Gustavo… and it’s easy to take solace in the fact that the murders were ‘justified’ to some degree, i.e. with Jorgi’s embezzlement + murder attempt on (Keith), i.e. with Dallas’ own murder spree.
But that murderous intent… I can’t shake it. Maybe another reason for it is that Luck is canonically not suited to be a mafioso…yet he has felt murderous urges and acted upon them. (Though, not having full control of one’s murderous rage is also probably not good for a gangster). One might well associate that with mafiosi. He is capable of committing murder–and in that regard he’s more ‘suited’ to his profession than, say, Luchino is to his.
Another reason I’m fixating on this is that Luck is someone who values (the intensity of) his emotions. Should’ve mentioned this earlier, since I think that in itself is important/noteworthy. To quote this thought of his on Eve:
Maybe I was jealous. Jealous of the fierce, violent emotions that filled that child. That’s something I’ll probably never have again. …Because I doubt I’ll ever be able to “prepare to die” again. Never, not for all eternity. - 1932 Drug & The Dominos, p. 215
Bolding mine. Becoming more apathetic = lacking the same passion/intensity behind his emotions that he had in spades, and he doesn’t like that at all. And… I have to wonder: in lamenting the tempering of his emotions (in missing that intensity), does he also miss those murderous, violent feelings a la 1930?
It sounds like he does. He still feels hatred for Dallas’ group and won’t forgive them, and he still feels pain over Mike and the other’s deaths. He still feels hatred, after all. But those “fierce, violent emotions” that he’s jealous of here–well, Eve had channeled those emotions into calm murderous intent. She shot at Gustavo with the intent to kill.
(Now that I think about it, doesn’t that sort of mirror Luck’s situation in 1930? Luck’s fury reached a boiling point and boiled over hot, while Eve’s tumultuous feelings snap-crystallized into another plane of hatred – but basically both of them experienced a ‘point of no return’ leading to an inexorable gunshot.)
Do you think she reminded him of 1930!him right before he shot Dallas. Granted, one can start yearning to feel/have anything one is deprived of - “I don’t care what it is, I just want to feel strongly again” - and I do think that’s part of it. It may also be a part of his concerns over being a good mafioso….speaking of, I just remembered this passage:
Lately, he got the feeling he’d become really apathetic. Even he could tell: Compared with before–more than a year ago–his sensibilities had grown ridiculously lax. There was absolutely no doubt that his former self would have sent that junkie to the afterlife. - D&TD
Bolding mine. Absolutely no doubt that he would commit murder. I guess it’s a good thing he’s so self-aware, but it does hit home that murder is not inherently a last-resort option for him. The Gandors do have a reputation for violence (and executions), so it could be related to that. The syndicate has needed to foster a violent reputation in order to survive amidst all the larger syndicates, so…murder’s a good way to show you mean business.
(Also this part warrants another Firo-Luck thing: doesn’t this remind you of Firo in 1934? How he would have [reacted xyz way] to Edward if this was a few years ago, but he’s mellowed out since… Huh. So, Firo and Luck both mellowed out but for different reasons. Luck out of immortality-induced-apathy, and Firo thanks to the people around him.)
Misc Thoughts, Also Did I Mention I Was Sorry for How Much of a Rambling Mess This Is? Because I Am. If your eyes have glazed over I do not blame you.
Over on the Naritaverse server, a fan going by ‘Mint’ remarked to me that they would like to see a Luck and Nile “have a conversation about mortality and what it means to them now as immortals” and I WANT because what a good idea.
I don’t think I’d ever fully appreciated that Luck is probably one of the immortals who would best ‘get’ Nile’s concerns, but he is, isn’t he. Nile held value in mortality and was afraid of becoming inured to it–and was horrified when he did. He was horrified to see his expression emotionless, when it ‘should’ have been affected with grief/sorrow/rage. Mortality has lost its impact; he feels nothing where he ought.
It’s not as if Nile has lost…all his emotions; he still has a short temper/capacity for fury, and he (ironically for Luck) genuinely enjoys the thrill of a fight. But… he and Luck feel like they’ve both lost something (some part of their humanity?) emotions-wise with immortality, they’re both self-aware in a similar way…and I’m so with Mint here, I’d love to see them interact.
(Though, come to think of it, Luck says he’s jealous of Eve’s intense/violent emotions…but “his emotions are on the verge of exploding” when talking to her?)
There’s one other immortal I thought of while writing this–like, an immortal I never expected to think of in relation to Luck, but here we are: Huey Laforet. No, I still can’t quite believe my brain either. Why Huey?
When I thought about it…both Luck and Huey are people who are capable of intense emotion, people who affect outward calm/cool exteriors, and who don’t seem to be capable of fully containing them. (…I also re-stumbled upon the line wherein “mask” is used to describe Luck’s composed persona and went oooh. So there’s that).
Maybe Huey might have gotten better at it with time, but…Monica died at a point in his life where he was opening up as a person for the first time, getting better at not handling his emotions with a ten-foot pole but not practiced at controlling/reigning in intense ones. (So he pretty much shuts down as a person in order to ensure he feels (99%) nothing, because his grief/rage over Monica’s death would’ve probably consumed him if he hadn’t (and, once he… ‘recovered’ (HA) he presumably didn’t want emotions interfering with his goal).
And then there is Luck, who spent his childhood/adolescence striving for maturity/acting responsible and cultivated sangfroid as a result; he had years of practice, and yet he still cannot fully contain his ire. Funny; if you only knew him and Huey by their anime iterations, you’d never know just how intensely either of them have felt.
It never once occurred to me to think of Luck and Huey in relation to each other, and now that I see this similarity I don’t know what to do with it. Heck, maybe I’m just seeing things, period. I had to tell somebody.
Oh, Luck. You who have killed, you with murderous feelings and intense feelings and you who are not kind (your words, not mine; perhaps we can compromise on ‘selectively kind’?). I do like you. I won’t romanticize you, but I like what Narita’s done with you, is all I’m saying.
One misc thing I forgot to say is that I really appreciate the moments of brevity with him; he’s not a perfect mafioso but characters like him are good at being straight mans, so scenes where - for instance, he’s thoroughly exasperated and frazzled with Maria, are Great Fun. They’re more instances of him being human, and not as in control as he presents himself as, and I do so enjoy them.
LuckEve Response
Your question: “But to ask a specific question how do you feel about Luck/Eve (obviously when she’s grown up.) Do you think there is any merit to this ship?”
I’m not a shipper myself, for the record. Half “I don’t really care for/about romance” and half “I’m someone who is generally very canon-compliant,” so… these are simply my thoughts from a canon perspective and from my understanding of fandom thoughts.
My understanding is that most LuckEve shippers got into the ship with the anime, which…explains everything. Luck, as I’ve said, is the suave and handsome young gentleman bachelor in the anime. Well-spoken, sharp in all the right places, the obvious fan-favorite of the Gandor three. Eve isn’t given a specific age in the anime (nor is Luck, for that matter), and the age gap between her and Luck isn’t obvious; more to the point, she’s pretty and fits the “single young heiress” all on her lonesome trope that lends itself well to romances.
(That is a trope, right? There’s the trope of “rich and eligible bachelor,” and plenty of romance novels are to do with matchmaking among the well-to-do, i.e. society expecting a young lady to be married off posthaste. I do think Eve’s situation evokes such notions. “She’s a young heiress with no one to look after her in the 1930s, so she’s a natural marriage candidate.”)
…I don’t believe that people ship them solely because of established storytelling archetypes (both good-looking, gentleman bachelor vs rich ingenué) or because they’d “look good” together…I think maybe anime-onlies started with that and lean more on it since they have less to go on in the anime, but I can guess at a couple other reasons why they and some light novel fans ship them.
The first reason is the Gustavo-Eve-Luck showdown, where Eve says she understands how Luck feels and why he won’t–can’t–forgive Dallas. Up until then, she hadn’t understood (and Luck knew it) - and moments of personal connection like that are (from what I’ve seen) major fuel for shippers, who latch onto such scenes as ‘evidence of a link’.
(The showdown also involves Luck protecting Eve and refusing to let her become a murderer by taking her bullet, and I assume this also went a long way for shippers? A lot of popular ships and ship fics seem to involve “protectiveness” and “self-sacrifice” as ideal relationship goals, and I imagine Luck’s actions here just generally make him even more appealing as a fictional crush).
(Hmm, maybe people also see something in the fact that Luck is emotionally honest with her to some extent? He even gets a little carried away, much to his consternation. Considering that he’s normally ‘composed’… maybe his openness didn’t escape shippers’ attention. Also, that he was ‘nice’ enough to give her the map.)
(Oh - hm, but I’m overlooking something else they share. It’s not just feelings of hatred for the Runoratas, mutual grieving over the deaths of their loved ones, that Eve cannot truly appreciate Luck’s feelings until she does – it’s that Narita paints them equally self-centered in 1932. As in, they both come to see themselves as self-centered, another point of commonality.)
The second…really just boils down to ‘potential’. Honestly? Luck and Eve only interact once in canon, and that’s in–you guessed it–the showdown. To be fair, it’s an emotionally charged scene: they meet each other for the first time; he privately acknowledges her resolve and determination and the risk she’s taking to seek him out; she sort-of-but-not-fully understands his feelings but hers take priority; Luck understands that, prioritizing his feelings as well…
…And then the showdown between Luck and Gustavo happens; the “I accept your pain” moment. After a few other scenes, we’re shown the aftermath: where Eve attempts to thank him but he doesn’t let her.
And…that’s it? That’s the extent of their interaction. Eve thinks briefly of Luck in 1935, but it’s pretty much, “no, I can’t ask for his help with Ra’s Lance, as he probably wouldn’t want to cooperate and I’m not callous/shameless enough to ask him.” Maybe they’ll reunite at Ra’s Lance in 1935-E, but…as of now, their canon interaction is only one scene.
So…I think potential has to be the other side of the LuckEve ship. Luck and Eve have traits that in theory they could appreciate in each other (?) - Luck’s not just the chivalrous gentleman, he’s to some extent intellectual/cultured and unlike the stereotypes Eve might assume of gangsters; Eve is kind, brave, and tenacious; she’s sheltered but certainly not dumb. (We even see him acknowledge the risk she’s taking and her resolve + determination. Not that we have any idea what he’d want in a romantic partner; he’s a committed bachelor, it seems).
So…there’s a sense that they could be a good match beyond looks/societal archetypes. There’s the realization that they have certain things in common, and that the hope that they could bond over these things to the point where they overshadow wrongs done. And how Luck saved her, can’t forget that.
…I think. I should say I haven’t spent a lot of time looking at LuckEve content so I’m not as well-versed in existing content for the ship… I’m not totally ignorant, though; I’ve skimmed a few fics both on AO3 and the old Baccano! Livejournal, and I think a few of my followers have shipped it or are still shipping it. This LuckEve fic focuses a lot on the things they have in common (grief, self-centered actions), so I can’t be entirely off-base.
Speaking of fics, the Luck and Eve interactions in this excellent gen fic (which you likely already know, as ryfkah’s Baccano! fics are some of the most popular ones on AO3)…not to mention their respective characterizations, are very good – and it’s telling that a lot of the commentors assumed it was a LuckEve fic despite it being gen/the relationship not being tagged? It’s this fic that helped me better realize why some people believe they’d be a good match personality-wise, which is why I link it.
(The livejournal is partly why I’ve the impression a good chunk of the shipping stemmed from the anime, since it seems to be one of the first/oldest non-canon ships in the fandom. I also saw a couple people there - as I have FFN, AO3, and Tumblr, gush about how ‘hot’ Luck is, which maayyy have contributed to my other impressions of the ship).
My personal thoughts on the ship
My first thought was, “I’m indifferent,” but…that’s not quite true. There’s a small portion of me that goes, “Well, Luck views Eve as a child - his word- in 1932, and…ehhhh….” (If he meets her at Ra’s Lance, how much do you wanna bet he or the narration comments on how she’s grown into a demure young woman?)
And then there’s another portion of me that has Doubts about the ship with respect to canon–as to how likely such a relationship would really be.
In an alternate universe, perhaps they might have hit it off easily. An alternate universe where Luck was never a mafioso and never did what he did to Dallas, that is. I’m sorry, but I have trouble believing Eve would marry one of the men who murdered Dallas and condemned him to drown for the rest of his life.
Yes, she now fully understands why Luck won’t forgive Dallas, and yes she recognizes that Dallas did wrong, but….Luck still condemned Dallas to a horrible fate, and I just - would she really overlook that? Even if she could, Dallas is afraid of the Gandors as of 1935 and I cannot see her marrying someone whom her brother fears. She loves Dallas despite everything, he’s just about all she has left in terms of immediate blood family, and making him and the Gandors brothers-in-law would be unfair to both families.
(Yes, Eve did say to Maria in 1933 that “any friend of Luck’s” would have a good reason for doing something, and Eve did think of asking Luck to cooperate in 1935. But the former is her being over-trusting as much as it may be respect, and the latter…is nowhere near approaching romantic soil.)
And then there’s the fact that Luck is a mafioso, and… Look, when Eve found out the truth about the Genoard business she cried for…what, an hour, right? Not only would she have to make peace with the Dallas business she’d have to make peace with Luck being a gangster, and I suppose of the two that would be the easier to swallow.
She’s met Kate, after all, a woman who knowingly married a gangster and is content with that life. And she understood Kate’s feelings. There’s also how Dallas is a lowlife, how Eve has met assassins, criminals, and other shady characters of society and found them all right, and that she is willingly going to Ra’s Lance - a hive of scum and villainry - to find Dallas. In other words, Eve is certainly not living a life separate from the underworld. (She never really was, but now that she’s aware of it she’s hardly gone out of her way to avoid it).
But again, cooperating/involving oneself with the mafia is in no way on the same level as marrying into the mafia, goodness gracious. Also, wait, does Luck believe in God? He’s certainly never been overtly religious. Eve’s a believer, for sure, so…I wonder. Her family may not have been very religious, but having a spouse who shares her faith might be important to her.
(oh also, let’s not forget that Benjamin and Samantha would probably have heart attacks at the very thought of her marrying into the mafia. So what if they work for the Genoard drug kingpins – Eve was never involved in the business, and marrying into the Gandors would be risking her life. Benjamin, Samantha, Keith, Berga…literally no one in Luck and Eve’s immediate circle would think a relationship a good idea.)
And all that was just focusing on Eve’s side of things. Putting aside Luck’s hatred for Dallas…he’s a confirmed bachelor, and we’ve never really seen him yearning for a relationship. I wouldn’t be too surprised if he believes it would be unfair to marry someone and make them mafia – that is, if he’d be willing to marry someone and potentially put them at risk. He’s got his brothers’ relationships as examples; Kate’s life has been in danger at least twice, no doubt dark times for Keith, and that would very reasonably put Luck off from doing the same thing.
Keith/Kate, Berga/Kalia…oh dear, that’s right, I should probably address the elephant in the room: Immortality. There’s never been any indication that Kate and Kalia were at Firo’s promotion party, so it’s assumed they’re mortals. Mortals who will grow old while their husbands remain young, and someday die. Never mind everything else: would Luck be willing to enter a relationship with a mortal, and Eve an immortal?
…I can’t say; I’m not Narita. I can say that I can’t recall ever seeing a LuckEve fic interested in exploring the twilight years of their relationship; either the fics are them getting together, or them in the early years of their relationship…but I imagine the twilight years aren’t as fun for shippers to think about. It might not be a first priority of the ship, is all I’m saying.
I should make it clear that I don’t think all LuckEve shippers disregard the glaring complications to such a relationship (Dallas, mafia) - the fic I linked above is certianly not the only one that acknowledges and/or deals with such things, and it’s only right to acknowledge it. Actually, I have a feeling the tension between them may in itself be a reason why they’re shipped, haha.
TL;DR: I understand why some people ship LuckEve, but it seems to me the ship is constructed more on shippers’ personal fantasies/own ideas of how and why such a relationship would work than it is rooted in canon, as the pair have only interacted in one scene out of 22 volumes.
I don’t think a romantic relationship would ultimately work. Even if we set aside: the Immortality Problem; how he views her as a child in 1932; and the Dallas Problem… the fundamental differences between them outweigh their few commonalities, and are so fundamental that I assume they wouldn’t be good for a romantic couple.
She’s religious, kind, a sheltered well-to-do, and wants to be a good and upstanding citizen. Luck is a murderer, a mafioso from the slums dedicated to the syndicate he grew up in and inherited. She accepted the truth of her family’s business but morally rejects it, whereas Luck has embraced his organization from adolescence. A courteous man is not necessarily a kind on, and not necessarily a good one–and Luck does not consider himself that.
Eve may trust him, may consider cooperating with him, but to marry him would mean turning a blind eye to his profession, accepting it, or even approving it, none of which seems really possible to me. It would mean rejecting the opinions of her loved ones, those who are very important to her. Star-crossed lovers are a tried-and-true trope (Romeo and Juliet, Rose-the-lady and Jack-the-penniless), but Eve and Luck’s worlds are very different, and she doesn’t exactly spend enough time in his to suggest she’d like to stay in it.
I do think there’s potential for a friendship, at least. The mutual understanding and seeds of respect, that they’re both strong in their own ways… Fans aren’t thinking of “Luck and Eve” for no reason, and honestly I’ve enjoyed the Luck and Eve interactions I’ve seen in gen fics. A friendship wouldn’t necessarily be easier to come by, though; quite a few romantic fics I think stem from them establishing a business relationship, which might be the ticket here since Eve seems to be reluctant to contact Luck otherwise.
Ra’s Lance is the other, more immediate chance of a reunion, so…that’ll be interesting. Eve didn’t actually expect the Gandors to attend (IIRC) given their Runorata hatred, so she might be surprised to see him.
I cannot believe this ended up as long as it did, anon, I’m so embarrassed. To whomever reached the end…you’re superstars.
Three months ago or so, I made the above two stitches of the Daily Days headquarters for a write-up on Baccano!’s background art. I dredged them up today for use on the wiki...and in doing so, found myself taking a closer look at the signs in the background. No, I hadn’t been mistaken – the red sign on the establishment to the DD’s left differs between the shots. (And I couldn’t find the yellow of the Vietnamese sign in the first shot either).
I admit it; I’d been checking to see if there were any inconsistencies/goofs that needed documenting. However, in idly observing that the sign’s English text read [G]old Flower Restaurant, it occurred to me that I hadn’t tried researching the Daily Days' location in earnest (though I’m sure others already have). I don’t know why, considering that it’s obviously inspired by a real location; even if you didn’t know that the staff did location scouting in New York (which I did, saw the results of the scouting, and still didn’t give the DD the attention I should’ve), the amount of and quality of specific details in both illustrations definitely suggests real-life references.
So, I googled “Gold Flowers Restaurant - Chinatown,” and...gottem.
First of all - the Gold Flower Restaurant (red sign) and the Vietnamese Restaurant (yellow sign) are both real establishments. Or rather, they used to be: the Gold Flower Restaurant at 9 Doyers appears to have been replaced by a speakeasy-styled cocktail bar called Apothéke (with a ‘false’ storefront in the speakeasy mode); and the Doyers Vietnamese (11 Doyers) closed around 2010 is now a Mexican restaurant called Pulqueira.
I doubt I’ll surprise anyone by saying that I don’t think either the Gold Flower Restaurant and Doyers Vietnamese were around in the 1930s. There was a Café Mandarin/Mandarin Tea Shop on 11 Doyers Street back around 1909/1910 (if you search for old Doyers Street images, you’ll find the one with the Mandarin Tea Shop no problem), and I think the Vietnamese Restaurant was known as the ‘Vietnam [Restaurant’ instead in the 1980s-1990s. (This blog has a pic of the former site d.1890).
That said... to the left of the now-gone Doyers Vietnamese still stands Nom Wah Tea Parlor, which was first established in 1920!
(Honestly I don’t think anyone’s going to nitpick the anachronistic storefronts; these shots are maybe five-ten seconds long at most, and why complain when we can appreciate the location scouting in its own right and the artworks’ beauty and attention to detail for what they are?)
As for the Daily Days Building...google images from the late 2000s that show those two restaurants show a Coco Fashion Boutique at 5-7 Doyers Street (aka same building as the DD building). However, I think Coco Fashion has since been replaced by a Chinese Tuxedo Restaurant, named after a historic restaurant that once stood just down the lane on Bowery Street. (Recommended reading: this 2016 article).
And speaking of 5-7 Doyers Street...
It turns out that Doyers Street has a pretty violent history (hence its nickname “Bloody Angle”), with Tong Gang shootouts taking place there from 1900s-1930s or thereabout. A three-fatalities 1905 Tong shootout occurred at the Chinese [Opera] Theater, which was the first Chinese language theater in NYC and – you guessed it – occupied 5-7 Doyers Street from 1893-1910/11. (An even bloodier shooting occurred in 1909).
From what I’ve read, the Chinese Theater was afterwards converted into a “mission house for the Rescue Society of New York” (p40) and remained as such for several decades. I think you can make out the Rescue Society sign/front in this 1961 footage (anyone know what that’s from?), in fact. You can definitely see the Nom Wah Tea Parlor behind the two men...
Ooh, and this is a photo of the Rescue Society front c. 1930. The building next to it has a sign much like the Gold lower sign, but it’s not the same, I think.
Here’s Doyers Street on Google Maps, with the latest Street View dating to November 2017. That’s right - you should find yourself right on the Daily Days’ doorstep.
So... the Daily Days’ location in the anime definitely seems to be 5-7 Doyers Street, and while I know this does not confirm the DD’s location is also Doyers Street in the novels – I see no reason for us to not take the anime’s location for what it is. This blog post from the official Baccano! website says as much (”where the Daily Days building would have been”) - and below is is one of the photos the staff took while location scouting that they later used as a reference. (The photograph is also featured in that first PV I’ve showed you before at 8:48).
(If you search for “Doyers Street Chinatown” on Google Images, you’ll see plenty of other photographs just like this one. Remember - the ones that have the Gold Flower Restaurant and/or Doyers Vietnamese in them are out of date, which the majority of the first results are.)
Returning to my main train of thought (hah) - if we accept that the Daily Days is located precisely where the anime places it, then the history of that street is different to what we know it to be. I don’t think we’re ever given an idea of when the Daily Days was established in canon, which makes things difficult. If it was established before 1910/1911, then either the Chinese Theater never existed, or it did but folded earlier than we thought. Those 1905 and 1909 shootings may never have happened.
If the Daily Days moved in after the Chinese Theater closed, then the only question remaining would be whether or not the Rescue Society briefly existed only to close down, or if it never existed at all. It’s probably far more likely to be the latter, i.e. that the Daily Days directly moved in after the Chinese Theater folded and the Rescue Society wasn’t a thing there, ever. (I hope all those men in that 1930 photo found another place for bread).
One other interesting aspect of this is that in Vol 4, the DD President orders the employees to evacuate underground via the sewers, which he says are connected to the basement of the police headquarter. The thing about Doyers Street/that area is that it actually had a secret underground network of tunnels, which Tong gangsters (and others?) used to make getaways from the cops and other folks. Hm...
I definitely recommend reading up on Doyers Street; from the Tong gang shootouts to the rapidly changing local community, it’s fascinating stuff.
The latest entry on my mental list of “Baccano! characters I wish would meet” is “Ladd and Nile” (in tandem with “Ladd and Elmer,” but I’ll get to that later). Ladd, who hates those who think themselves invincible - that they will never die - and Nile, who threw himself into war in order to never forget death/mortality.
Under the cut for major length + possible spoilers (esp. for 1935 arc, which I speculate about at the end).
See, the thing is... I have a feeling that Nile’s arrogance in regard to his own skill and belligerent attitude would be enough at first glance for Ladd to punch him much in the same way that he does Victor in 1935? But at the same time...
...It sometimes slips my mind, but I often wonder if there isn’t something that can be said about how Nile values mortality and wants to find it meaningful while simultaneously having bloodlust/enjoying the entertainment of battle. Remember 2002-B – the very moment he finds himself excited at the prospect of a fight, he falls into self-loathing.
And this is where Ladd/the point of this post comes back into the picture: both Ladd and Nile share a certain amount of bloodlust, with Ladd fully embracing his bloodlust and Nile wanting to deny it (but unable to deny it in full). What’s more... In their own ways, they both think it’s important to be cognizant of mortality.
For Ladd, it’s cognizance of one’s own mortality that’s praiseworthy: he believes it’s only natural to be afraid of dying (also, to be aware that one could die at any time). Nile, meanwhile, places value on being cognizant of other’s mortality: he believes that it is human/natural to be affected by other people’s deaths. The problem for him is that he was – through war – made overwhelmingly aware how easy it is for people to die at any time, exposed to it over and over until it no longer affected him the way he wanted it to.
(Another analysis post in my drafts also touches on this re: Nile, so keep an eye out for that in the future).
Also, since we’re talking about Ladd and someone who fought on multiple battlefields for over a century by the 1930s, I’ll go ahead and recall what Ladd says to Placido in Volume 2:
“Battlefields? Those aren’t our style. Those are places where warriors gather, warriors, warriors! Guys prepared to die in order to kill, guys who fight like they’re gonna die because they don’t want to die, guys like that, see? Frankly, there’s nothing fun about killing those guys.”
Since we’re quoting Volume 2, let’s also quote what Ladd says about Doctor Fred:
“Aah, dammit to hell. What’s with those eyes? He’s got eyes that look like he could die at any time and be fine with it. Or maybe eyes like a guy who’s already dead. That’s the type I’m worst with.”
...Here’s what’s on my mind. Nile is arrogant and pretty sure of his immortal ability to come back to life like Victor is, but as much as he’s ‘fine’ with dying he’s also not entirely fine with it (c.f. 2001, where he’s Not Cool with Maiza running him over, and where he impatiently waits out twenty or so bone-crushing deaths and it decidedly not enjoying it but will tolerate it for the sake of his friends).
...And then there’s also the question of his face and his emotions. We see that he’s clearly not emotionless, given his short temper/impressive ire, his self-loathing, his bloodlust, his passionate hatred for injustice...but then we also know that he’s been afraid of removing his mask to find his face just as impassive as it was when he knelt at the side of a lake.
If his face is as impassive as it was then, does that imply that his eyes are ‘deadened’ like Fred’s were? Would Ladd look into his eyes and see Fred’s reflected in them? (Note: he does bitterly laugh/smile in 2002-B...)
Yeah, Ladd might meet Nile and want to punch him within ten seconds, like with Victor - but Ladd’s also a pretty good judge of character, more often than not, and I think he would absolutely sense a kindred bloodlust in Nile and spoil for a fight rather than a drive-through-punch. (Also, I’m pretty certain that Nile would have a much better chance than Victor at dodging Ladd’s punch, thus providing an opening for a proper fight to instigate).
I want them to meet. I expect that the chances of them engaging in battle within the first two minutes of them fighting are very high, and the chances of Ladd trying to engage Nile in conversation while fighting (or just. talking to him) pretty reasonable.
I want Ladd to realize that Nile is one of those very warriors he praised and dismissed back in Placido’s office - a soldier, a guy prepared to die in order to kill - but not entirely, because Nile isn’t someone who fights like they’re going to die because they don’t want to die. He fights with the expectation that he won’t die because he’s immortal (alt. that he can take fatal wounds and keep fighting), and also with the believe that he won’t die/lose because he’s just that good. (That is, in a human to human fight outside the battlefield. I...doubt that Nile had the same mindset in war.)
In other words, I’m suggesting that Nile has the potential to be one of Ladd’s favorite/most respect-worthy opponents. He’s a warrior – aka someone that Ladd puts into an entire class of their own and doesn’t really feel like fighting, meaning that they’re people he praises/respects – but he also possesses traits typical of Ladd’s favorite victims (arrogance/belligerence).
He has the potential to be someone that Ladd genuinely enjoys fighting and wants to fight, and at the same time someone Ladd respects rather than hates. It’s a rare thing for someone to be both in Ladd’s world.
With all that said, I think Ladd might be a little irritated with (put out) by Nile feeling guilty over being unable to fully deny his bloodlust. I can very easily picture him making a case for why Nile should embrace his bloodlust while the two are fighting.
To elaborate... since it would be pretty easy for Ladd to pick up on Nile’s bloodlust and find it kindred with his own, I think he’d be a bit irritated/frustrated by Nile’s disapproval of his own bloodlust because it just might feel dangerously close to hypocrisy, or sanctimonious moral guilt (think back to Vol 3 and Ladd’s rant about boys with guns).
(Also, it must be said that Nile refrains from killing the normal passengers on Exit where Ladd threatens to do it from the start of the FPF).
--(cont) As someone who appreciates natural instincts and being true to oneself (it’s been said before, but Ladd really is one of the most inwardly and outwardly honest characters), I think he’d definitely not appreciate Nile not fully accepting his bloodlust especially given the clear entertainment Nile gets out of a fight – it’d be like seeing himself enjoying killing, feeling guilty about it, and killing anyway. Indicative of a weak will.
Come to think of it, remember how Nile encounters Silis and prepares to kill her, thinking her to be in allegiance with SAMPLE? Remember what he does after Denkurō stops him – “Calm yourself, Master Nile. Fall not to bloodlust” – and points out that Silis is clearly terrified? Nile chops off his own hand as penance and uses the pain to shock himself back into sobriety.
I wonder what Ladd would have thought of that? Maybe he wouldn’t be too contemptuous/judgmental, as “being consumed by bloodlust” doesn’t equal “enjoying carrying out said bloodlust.”
Ehhh TL;DR I think both Ladd and Nile would highly enjoy fighting one another at minimum and I’d be very interested to see what Ladd thinks of Nile.
Now...as for the “Ladd and Elmer” pair I mentioned at the beginning of this post... Well, around the time I was mulling over Nile’s reaction to his own death/belief in his own survivability, the question of how Ladd would perceive Elmer and his own security in his immortality crossed my mind. And then I found myself astonished at the realization I’d never considered a Ladd-Elmer meeting before, especially considering that Elmer has met Graham in canon.
Elmer is very much a Singularity, so a part of me from the outset was of the mind that it couldn’t be as simple as “Ladd would potentially be irritated by Elmer’s confidence in his survivability.” Nah...Elmer’s Elmer. He’s not dead-eyed like Fred is, he’s just plain empty. He’s a unique case, but not in the mode of Isaac (whom Ladd views as a puppy who doesn’t know any better).
No, Elmer is the sort of person who would volunteer to be murdered by Ladd if it’d make Ladd happy, and that probably throws Ladd off at first (a bit like how Ladd is initially afraid of Claire). This isn’t the same thing as Lua, who wants to die and is voluntarily choosing to be Ladd’s most special murder victim out of actual love. (Though, Ladd might mistakenly first assume that this is exactly like Lua and be uncomfortable). This isn’t like Fred, who wants to die due to a heapload of survivor’s guilt, probable PTSD, and remains alive mainly because he believes God is keeping him alive as punishment.
This is Elmer, who would absolutely offer himself up as a victim to Ladd as soon as he gets a grip on Ladd’s personality, very likely try to make himself more hatable when Ladd refuses to kill him (I’ll explain why I think this is case in a jiffy), and be honestly disappointed that he’s just not killable enough. He’d have liked to be the one to make Ladd smile! :D
This is Elmer, who would likely admit that he doesn’t enjoy dying all that much - it’s really painful, you know! Aannnd that’s why I have a feeling that Ladd just wouldn’t be all that into the idea of killing Elmer. Well, one of them.
To refer back to my Claire-Elmer comparative analysis, Elmer is (like other immortals) confident in his own survivability due to the freedom that his immortality allows him. But unlike Victor (and almost assuredly like Szilard), Elmer isn’t arrogant about this ‘invincibility’ in the slightest. He definitely isn’t shy about announcing it, but he never really means it in a bragging sense. Whereas Isaac isn’t arrogant about his immortality because he’s unaware of it (and actually pretty humble as a person), Elmer will throw it out there with the same weight as “I’m ambidextrous.”
He also voluntarily dies a lot. So much death. Remember that Claire-Elmer comparison? Well, if Elmer’s confidence in his own survivability wouldn’t necessarily warrant Ladd’s hatred in the same way Claire’s confidence in his survivability does, what about his lack of fear – another trait Ladd hates in Claire?
...You remember how I said Ladd was initially afraid of Claire?
I said that I think Ladd would be initially thrown off by Elmer, but the more I think about it, the more I think Ladd might be vaguely unsettled by Elmer’s existence in general – whether he realizes it or not. Not in the same way that Fermet fears and reviles Elmer, no, and certainly not to such an extent, but...
Like Fermet, Ladd is pretty honest with himself regarding who he is as a person (and unlike Fermet, Ladd is outwardly honest too). They’re people who embrace their natural instincts/desires and experience emotions to their fullest. So for someone like Ladd, who respects a human’s natural fear of death and who’s not reserved about feeling and having emotions – someone who’s pretty astute, as mentioned before...
...He wouldn’t take Elmer’s lack of fear as a sign of arrogance or smugness in his immortality. Putting aside the fact that Elmer throwing himself constantly into death’s way while also not really enjoying it means he’s clearly acutely aware of death/is cognizant that he won’t enjoy it but does it anyway... Ladd would understand Elmer’s lack of fear for exactly that: a void where fear should be.
And he’d notice that other emotions should be there too. Fear, sadness, anger, happiness, disgust – there is nothing, there hasn’t been anything for a very long time, and if he already has trouble dealing with men who have dead eyes then how the hell is he supposed to deal with clever, ‘soulless’ ones?
Elmer doesn’t particularly want to die, but he’ll more than willingly do so if it’ll make Ladd happy. Except that even that doesn’t jive with what Ladd knows, because Lua at least will be happy in her death and Fred will probably be relieved, but why on Earth is Elmer so keen on dying to make Ladd happy if it won’t make him happy? "What? It’ll make you smile? Nah. I don’t buy it.”
I forgot to mention that while Ladd is someone who embraces himself and his emotions, he also likes provoking other people (usually those he has a beef with) to garner emotional responses from them. I’m thinking of his rooftop confrontation with Chané, mostly, where he recalls everything the Lemur told him about Huey and her in an increasing effort to get a rise out of her, stonewall that she is. He hates Claire’s eyes and his unshakable confidence (read: monotone emotion that none of Ladd’s words or emotions affect whatsoever).
Mmm...yep, I’m going to go ahead and suggest it: Elmer might also unsettle Ladd because of his similarity to Claire, with specific respect to their unflappable natures. Nothing Ladd can do or say seems to have any affect on Claire whatsoever, and that’s pretty much exactly what we can expect with Elmer.
If Graham were to ever introduce Elmer to Ladd, what are the chances Ladd might say “I don’t like him” and be unusually non-forthright in explaining himself? Graham would be terribly disappointed (But he’s the Messiah??), and even moreso when Ladd’s usual brilliant explanation is lacking? He knows something feels off about Elmer, in fact, Elmer puts him off at first because his apparent deathwish seems reminiscent of Lua, but Elmer’s not quite like Lua or Fred. There’s something off about Elmer, but not like the way Isaac was.
Another thought just came to me – how would Ladd react if Elmer were to bring Huey up in front of him? With obvious hate for Huey, I imagine, and possibly relief when Elmer inevitably says, “Yeah, Huey! He’s my best friend.” His bloodlust spikes. Finally, something concrete. Something he can dislike Elmer for.
But then Elmer might say, “It sounds like you really hate Huey, huh? Would killing him make you smile?” A pause, a widening of the grin. “Then as his best friend, maybe I can talk him into letting you kill him a couple times! He wouldn’t be upset if you do, which means everything works out for the both of us. You get to kill Huey, and I get to have my smile.”
And then Ladd’s thrown off again, because Elmer’s beaming that empty, empty smile at him and he really does seem to think this is the perfect solution, he really did just offer to help Ladd murder his best friend without blinking an eye.
...And then Ladd’s offended, because hey pal he doesn’t need any help in killing Huey and whaddaya mean, the whole point is to make Huey suffer –
–And isn’t that an idea.
He may not have much of an interest in killing Elmer for its own sake, but...how about killing Elmer to make Huey suffer?
Yes, now there’s an idea. It’s the same thought process as “I’ll kill Huey because he sounds irritating and it’ll also get under Chané’s skin.”
Hey, it’s not as if Elmer hasn’t just offered himself up as a willing murder victim, right? Now, there’s a chance Elmer might be a little reluctant, since I think he probably has an inkling him being hurt is one of the only things left that has a chance of troubling Huey... but it’s not as if Huey isn’t Emotionally Dead™ and an immortal who has all of eternity to get over it, whereas Ladd is mortal and this plan has a good chance of making Ladd happy.
Since I can’t help myself, here’s another Concept: can you imagine what would happen if Fermet got a whiff of this plan? Maybe I’m wrong about this, but I have a feeling he’d be pretty on board with this idea to the point of pulling some strings in order to help Ladd out. After all, it involves Elmer Suffering (even if he’s okay with it, it’ll still hurt), and has a Good Chance of putting some genuine stress on Huey. He’d probably ensure that Huey gets wind of what Ladd’s planning. Might even go so far as to make arrangements so as to ensure Huey witnesses Ladd 'experiment’ on Elmer.
Boy howdy, I only thought of this scenario just now and now I want to see it play out in full.
Oh well - really, even if Elmer were to vaguely unsettle Ladd like I think he might, and even if Ladd had an interest in wiping that empty smile off his face (well, actually, I think he might just so he doesn’t have to see it)...it’s not like Ladd would do anything to one of Graham’s buddies. The sole reason he hasn’t put Smith in his place is because Smith has Immunity by way of being Graham’s Pal. (We need a proper term for that).
TL:DR - Ladd should meet Elmer because a) of Elmer’s underlying similarities to Claire, b) because Elmer’s best friends with Huey, c) because Elmer just give Ladd a weirder feeling than Fred already gives him, d) because Elmer would 100% offer himself as Ladd’s next victim and e) now I really want to see Ladd use Elmer against Huey, wow.
All of my Ladd meets Elmer musings have been set post-FPF, despite them canonically being on the train at the same time. Heck, Elmer was (technically) right under Ladd’s nose, what with Ladd being on the rooftops.
I know that the chances of Elmer actually showing up at Ra’s Lance are super low (despite Melvi’s fake smile and Kill Elmer goal), but I wish he would... now not only because of Melvi, but because Ladd is there and Huey’s nearby.
Him being at Ra’s Lance would...probably have the potential to be one of the biggest game-changers/upsets in 1935-E (new crack suggestion: he’s the new Gandor ‘assassin’ who really just wanted an excuse to sneak inside the party). Melvi plans to kill him after he devours Firo and subsequently betrays Huey, but having Firo and Elmer both at the party would mean the opportunity to do both while Huey is in the vicinity.
And if Melvi were to announce his plan to kill Elmer and thus betray Huey while Ladd’s in earshot...or Elmer reveal his best friend connection...Ladd would certainly take interest. Ladd, who wants to murder Melvi like no tomorrow.
...Well, once 1935-E is out, I’m sure I’ll mull over all the ways in which Elmer’s presence might have changed everything. For now, I just wish they’d meet.
Edit: I went back in my Elmer tags and realized I did wish Ladd and Elmer would meet a couple years ago. Huh.
A Digression About Fermet’s, Huey’s, and Elmer’s Emotions That Nobody Asked For. Also: the Trifecta of Selfishness; Haphazard Visual Mapping; and the ‘Ultimate Freedom’; all told through an ungodly amount of rambling.
This was a tangent I went on when writing a reply to a post written by @the-immortal-limabean. Originally I was going to just keep it under the cut with the quote collection in that post, but it’s so tangential it’s probably better off being its own post. (And ended up so long calling it a tangent is laughably disingenuous).
Here’s a link to that original post. The tangent is under the cut.
[warning for ungodly rambling and ungodly amounts of repetition]
[this is what happens when you have no time to proofread/edit things down]
You know something, for all that I talk about how Fermet is a masterful actor – which he is – he’s so empathetic and so emotionally intense (i.e. he’s not only in tune with other people’s emotions but experiences his own emotions intently) that sometimes it feels like he’s keeping his emotions more at bay than anything else. Him sniggering on the floor as Melvi’s men attack Who, Isaac, and Miria is one thing (1935-B), but look at how he acts in 1935-C after bidding Who farewell: as soon as he turns the corner, he “[erupts] into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.”
Ah, correction: it’s like he’s keeping his pleasurable emotions at bay – joy, pleasure, glee – rather than all emotions, because the only person for whom he has unbridled negative emotions [disgust-fear-loathing] is Elmer and he is absolutely terrible at controlling any Elmer-induced emotion whatsoever.
Narita likes to present Fermet and Elmer as each other’s antitheses, and meanwhile in 1935-C and 1935-D makes a point of comparing and contrasting Fermet and Huey - e.g. how the roots of their personalities are polar opposites, but their actions are so similar they appear superficially identical:
How Huey’s ambitions are concrete and overarching while Fermet’s are temporary (Huey does things for a specific purpose, Fermet does things for his own pleasure);
How Huey holds no malicious intent toward his ‘guinea pigs’ while Fermet holds a lot of it toward his ‘beloved actors’.
I’m not sure if it’s possible to arrange all three of them on the same spectrum, but I have thought about it. Elmer and Fermet would be at opposite ends of a horizontal spectrum, of course: Elmer is the Empty Man, emotions so tepid as to be non-existent, while Fermet conversely is Overfull, brimming with emotions so intense that they could spill over at any time. (Keyword could, because most of the time the real ones don’t if he doesn’t want them to. But there’s often a smile at his lips, and bangs can’t hide smiles...hand will do.)
But where does Huey fit on the horizontal spectrum? Would an alternative work, like placing them at each point of a triangle? If we take the horizontal line - by all rights, Huey should be close to Fermet’s end of the spectrum...but 1930s!Huey isn’t, because he’s actively trying to be closer to the Elmer end of the spectrum. Huey’s emotions pre-Monica are kept at bay in his youth; he’s too afraid to be emotionally open and good God he’s got a lot of teenage angst....
...Yet it becomes clear that he has the capacity for the ‘wild passion’ that Dalton believes he possesses, that he too could be emotionally intense if only he would try to open himself up - and he does - and then Fermet murders Monica.
Fermet enacts the deed with utter pleasure, and leads Huey to rob himself of pleasure in turn. It’s an act borne from emotional intensity that takes away another person’s willingness to be emotional intense (or: ‘freedom to be’, see below), and it sets the stage for the next three hundred years: Fermet waltzes through the centuries freely revelling in his own joy, doing whatever gives him pleasure... and one wonders how it’s possible for him to be so good at containing feelings so intense that when he does let them loose they’re unbridled and almost-but-not-fully manic.
Huey has the capacity for that same emotional intensity - but he doesn’t have Fermet’s ability to ‘only just’ restrain his emotions, he doesn’t have Fermet’s fine control and he cannot afford the slightest chance of the dam cracking. He can’t keep his emotions brimming underneath the surface so he seals them far far far below the surface instead. Fermet revels in sheer emotion and flaunts the fact that he can, when he’s the very reason that Huey can’t (read: won’t).
He’s definitely aware of the potential consequences of his actions, and how precarious his position is: he has to act as if achieving his goal will definitely happen, because achieving his goal will make everything he has sacrificed up until that point - his emotions, his humanity - worth it.
What I don’t know is whether he 100% comprehends (or: if he technically knows but isn’t acknowledging) that what he’s doing is emulating Elmer sans Elmer’s soulless mimicry of joy . He’s essentially coming as close to Elmer’s true nature as he possibly can without truly becoming it, and he’s counting on Elmer to continue being emotionless so that he doesn’t become Elmer in turn. He’s taking after Elmer’s emptiness as a temporary measure...until the day he can someday return to Fermet’s end of the spectrum.
And Elmer... Fermet may flaunt his emotions in front of the very man whose emotions he negated, but Huey’s done such a good job at suppressing his emotions that trying to provoke him isn’t going to get as satisfying a reaction. Logically it would make more sense for Fermet to flaunt his emotional wealth in front of Elmer, who not only has little to no emotion but is actively trying to experience it. Hahaha, I know what real joy feels like and you don’t, neener neener.
(Naturally that would not only fail to provoke Elmer in the slightest, Elmer would be sincerely appreciative of Fermet’s genuine joy.)
Elmer has only experienced his end of the emotional spectrum, and wants to know what it’s like to be on Fermet’s end of the emotional spectrum. He’s an endless void that wants to be filled. Huey has fluctuated back and forth between the spectrums, but is currently closer to Elmer’s end while someday hoping to return to Fermet’s end of the spectrum.
Fermet has always enjoyed being at his end of the spectrum but has never, ever wanted to know what it’s like at Elmer’s end of the spectrum. He may wear a ‘mask’ like Huey, but he’d find the idea of keeping his ‘true face’ (true emotions) under lock and key like Huey is doing out of the question. He’ll cloak his real feelings, but take them away? Not on your life.
Sometimes I wonder if the most fitting end for him in 2003 isn’t devourment (or as one shitpost once said, launching him into the sun; OR as @esperanzacboronial said, “shackle him to Elmer”), but instead an end in which he loses the emotions he’s enjoyed so much for so long.
@toushindai talked about how Fermet’s repulsion at the thought of devouring Elmer is likely him being repulsed at the thought of losing his emotions in her “regarding Elmer and Fermet” post (linked at end), come to think of it.
(Literary conventions might take that a step further with, ‘Fermet losing his emotions leads to Huey ceasing to suppress his’, coming full circle, but the jury is still out on whether or not Huey’s ending will be daisies).
(Uh, heads up: I think this is where I start to hardcore ramble/start to beat a dead horse, so if you’re thinking “I got the picture already” right about now, just CTL/CMD+F “Further Reading” for some relevant analysis links at the end).
...I said, “Freedom to be emotionally intense” earlier, and the term ‘freedom’ is still on my mind. @toushindai once talked of ‘the power of choice and change’ as themes in Baccano! (go read that, that’s some good stuff) and thinking about freedom made me think of that as well as the theme “even immortals can be happy.” It also made me think of the anime-original scene featuring Elmer and Ronny, where Elmer says:
I’ve lived for over 200 years now, and there's probably no meaning to life. So isn't it much better for everyone to smile and enjoy themselves while they're here? Be free from the sorrow and hatred that consumes them, yeah?
Fermet is freedom incarnate, isn’t he? All these immortals with long-term goals: Sylvie and Maiza with their revenge pre-1930; Begg and his pursuit of the ultimate (drug-induced) happiness; Czes pre-1931, determined to devour before being devoured; Nile, desperate to keep mortality meaningful; Victor and protecting civilians/upholding the law...
(As a separate aside to the above, consider Lucrezia and Niki, two non-Advena Avis immortals. Niki has her deathwish, but also kinda wanting to see Elmer/Fermet smile while she’s at it. Lucrezia...? This post is about Fermet-Huey-Elmer parallels, but you know what, Lucrezia is incredibly alike to Fermet in one respect: they both spend eternity prioritizing personal ephemeral pleasures over long-term goals.
Their mindsets are the same: you may as well make the most of eternity once you have it, and for both of them short-term (bodily) pleasure is desirable for its immediacy and intensity. The difference is that Lucrezia is a Hedonist (her pleasure derives from her own physical gratification and a wealthy lifestyle), while Fermet is a Sadist (his pleasure derives from the physical and mental anguish of others).
I think it might be interesting to investigate hedonism in Baccano! [more] in-depth, but that’s a topic for another day.)
...Even Elmer, who seems the most free of all of them, has his own long-term goal of feeling genuine happiness. He seems the most free because he has a freedom that comes with a lack of having emotions (no social inhibitions like fear/shame inhibiting him in daily life); for those of us who’ve been tethered by inhibitions before, there’s a certain envy to be found in that. I wish I weren’t so easily embarrassed. I hate feeling guilty.
And yet: No social inhibitions is neither technically correct nor is it total freedom, as it turns out. His long-term goal is an inhibitor. There are rules. He won’t kill anyone else (unless they want him to and promise to smile), and he’s far more likely to actively avoid doing things he knows won’t make nearby people happy. (Him spending decades on a long-term goal of finding Szilard and making him smile does directly shape how he lives those decades too, but he certainly took plenty of detours to make others smile along the way).
Huey, like Elmer and many of the others, has the temporal freedom of eternity and the financial freedom to live eternity how he likes - but Fermet in taking away his freedom to have emotions/be emotional also takes away Huey’s freedom to live the life he might have lived with Monica. Oh, don’t get me wrong: Huey damn well had the choice to not oversee a laboratory from hell/treat people like experiments/etc, and he knows it. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing, and is actively choosing to be a horrible human being.
And yet. The tragedy is that for all Huey’s temporal and financial freedom, he’s the immortal (who by his own will) is living the least free life of all the immortals. It’s a life he chose, but not the life he would have chosen. A life of true freedom for Huey is one with Monica (and Elmer) in it, and when he is robbed of that life...
There are choices, yes. There are always choices, but for Huey there is only one choice that is remotely tenable: Explore all that there is to this world. Eliminate all that is uncertain. Make known all that is unknown. Reunite with Monica, but only through a method that is 100% guaranteed to succeed.
There are choices, but Huey chooses to ignore that – there are others. His choice is both coldly rational and highly emotional - it’s both sides of the spectrum, and not. He might have chosen to try and live a life unaffected by Fermet’s act of malice, but he can’t because he isn’t Elmer. Elmer was unaffected, because he lacks the capacity for grief.
(It is Elmer’s lack of emotions that gives him the freedom to live life unchanged, instead of continuing down a path that Fermet has carved, but he pursues emotions regardless. Ah, but not all of them, that’s true. Not grief...)
The only reason Fermet’s act has meaning is because Huey is uncontrollably affected by it. (Of course he is, that’s what Fermet gets off on). It is Huey’s own emotions that condemn him to walk the path that Elmer escapes: it is because he can grieve and because that grief is so overwhelmingly felt that he ends up choosing the path with the least freedom.
Even so, he still has agency. His choice is borne from soul-shattering emotion, but doubled down on with a cold, logical firmness once he starts gluing his shell back together. He has no choice but to be affected by Monica’s death, but he does choose what to do in the wake of it. He does fixate on a goal which is entirely steeped in emotional irrationality, choosing to live a life limited to one goal. He seals away his emotions, and still chooses to live a life ordained by them.
Elmer and Fermet respectively symbolize the ultimate freedom that comes from lacking emotion entirely, and the ultimate freedom that comes from living life entirely by emotion – and not giving a damn about the consequences. They aren’t flawless in practice, true: Fermet fears the consequences of devouring Elmer; and Elmer will belatedly take a consequence into account if that consequence = “someone is sad” – but these incidents don’t take away from their wholes.
(I emphasize “not giving a damn about the consequences” because you can still lack emotion and care about consequences, just as much as intensely feel your own emotions/pursue your own pleasure and care about consequences. You may not feel inhibitions like shame, but you may at least be aware of consequences like hurting your social standing, revealing something better kept secret, etc. and want to avoid them. Not caring about what people think of you, not caring about societal expectations or whether your actions are moral - that’s what I mean).
Two ends of a horizontal spectrum, two points on a triangle - or two faces of a coin? If each is a face, then Huey as he is now is the side, the edge. The limen between two balanced forces, but the net force of zero is self-imposed. (If only it were so easy as a coin analogy; if only returning to his old self really were as easy as toppling to one side).
All hail Fermet, Elmer, and Huey, who together form the holy trifecta of selfishness. Fermet, selfishly indulging in his emotions; Elmer, selfishly indulging in his desire for one (1) emotion; and Huey, selfishly acting sans emotions for the sake of an entirely emotion-drenched goal.
(Fermet, selfishly indulging in real pleasure; Elmer, selfishly pursuing his desire for real pleasure; and Huey, selfishly depriving himself of pleasure in order to pursue the ideal pleasure he had with Monica because no pleasure could ever compare, as far as he knows. It’s not as if he’s given himself the chance to find out. And really, to know that such pleasure could still exist in a world without Monica in it...he may seek to know the unknown, but I imagine that is the sole unknown he would prefer to leave uninvestigated.)
Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...who is the most selfish of them all. Maybe it’s impossible to tell, or maybe that’s not the question worth asking. All three readily admit to their own selfishness, and all three are -evil- in their own ways. Fermet inflicts pain on others because he directly receives pleasure from others’ pain, but Huey inflicts pain on a larger scale and on a more consistent basis without receiving pleasure from it at all. Others’ pain is both a byproduct and a sought result in his experiments. If there are benefits, those benefits are for a long, long, long term goal, and it’s in some ways worse than what Fermet does.
Fermet acts with malice, and Huey does not, but the sheer scale of misery he causes regardless is enough to make one shudder away at the thought of what such a man would do if he decided he wanted to destroy the world after all. Elmer? Elmer may not cause misery like the others do, but he said it himself: he would happily sell the souls of humanity to the Devil for the sake of a happy ending.
Elmer and Fermet are direct antitheses, but Huey is caught between them and equidistant from them. Think of them in pairs, Elmer-Fermet, Fermet-Huey, Huey-Elmer, but think of them as three, too. (And then think of an appropriate way to visually map them because God knows I can’t settle on one).
Plenty of Trifectas to go around in Baccano!, after all. You can hang the Trifecta of Selfishness next to:
your Trifecta of Self-Absorption (Lucrezia-Claire-Ronny);
your Trifecta of (Occasionally) Daffy Duos (Isaac & Miria-Pietro & Dominico-Randy & Pezzo);
your Trifecta of Tacit Toughs (Keith-Chané-Charon);
your Trifecta of Talkative Types (Graham-Poet-Begg);
your Trifecta of Sleepy(-eyed) Souls (Bill-Melody-Sonja);
your Trifecta of Persons Possessing Prosthetics (Ladd-Nader-Dalton);
your Trifecta of Explosives Enthusiasts (Nice-Czes-Rail)
originally I was going to use Nice in “your Trifecta of Half and Fully Blind Badasses (Spike-Nice-the Ringmaster)” but the bomb one doesn’t rely on a character who barely exists
your Trifecta of Big Boys (Berga-Donny-Frank);
your Trifecta of Mothers with Moxie (Natalie-Seina-Pamela) don’t test me on this;
your Trifecta of Detached Dads (Manfred-Avaro Sr-Angelo);
look I’m hoping that Angelo will be a good dad once he finally meets his kid it’s been three years buddy say hi to Carlos
Huey? Eh? Never heard of him. no repeats. shush.
your Trifecta of Serial Killers (The Mask Maker-The Phantom Father-Ice Pick Thompson);
your Trifecta of Facial/Neck Tattoos (Jacuzzi-Tim-the Contortionist);
I think Esperanza’s stars are just makeup rather than tattoos?
your Trifecta of Single Scars Over the Bridge of One’s Nose (Nicola-Raz-Gig);
your Trifecta of ex-Military Men (Fred-Nile-Nicholas);
hush Goose. You don’t count.
your Trifecta of Young Heirs to Crime (Ricardo-Carzelio-Carnea);
your Trifecta of Dead Female Love Interests (Leila-Lisha-Monica);
your Trifecta of Good Wholesome Content (Cookie-Charlie-Charkie)
(...etc.)
Further Reading
(I already had the links since at one point I wanted to make an analysis compilation post)
“Does Fermet Have Low/No Empathy?” by @esperanzacboronial
“Favorite Moment: Huey & Fermet Conversing in 1935-C” by @toushindai
“Regarding Fermet and Elmer” by toushindai
“On Baccano! Characters and Empathy” by toushindai
