#gallus bauduin

[stillness-in-green]

Seven Stars Tea Blends

Ever since I saw that the Gundam Café in Akihabara was selling official, licensed teas with the Bauduin and Fareed family crests on them, I knew I was going to write this post someday.  

The calls below (other than the two canonical ones) are based on a sort of ambiguous blend of what I think a café might pick (On the Menu), what the characters would think of their family tea in a world with more surviving tea culture than I suspect the IBO world actually has (Tea Culture), and stray facts that influenced my picks or that make fun parallels (Supplementary Notes).  I’m tempted to go back in and make bonus picks for Ein, Isurugi, and Julietta, but for now, I’ll try to keep on-theme.

Bauduin Family Blend: Earl Grey. 

           On the Menu: Bergamont's rich floral scent belies the strength of the black tea brew with its piquant citrus twist; in the same way, the Bauduin family's comfortable affluence masks their intense dedication and trained skill.              Tea Culture: Gaelio is surprisingly fond of tea for a soldier, likely due in no small part to his sister's tireless efforts.  His palate is not terribly refined, but he can certainly taste when a brew has turned bitter and isn't afraid to say so.  Takes his tea with a lot of milk.  Gallus leaves the milk but takes a dash of sugar, and likes his teas brewed strong.  Almiria has weaned herself off of both milk and sugar when drinking with company, wanting to seem grown-up; though she secretly does prefer a splash of milk added, she nevertheless has the most refined palate of her family.            Supplementary Notes: Earl Grey has a storied history that, despite all its associations with high-class luxury, has some outrageously fake elements to it.  I enjoy the way this echoes how very prepared Gaelio and Almiria both are to flush their family fortunes straight down the drain the moment Earth taboos or paternal authority conflict with their personal desires.  Those kids look like nobles, but deep down, they are far more attuned to their own emotions and goals than they are advancing the family's standing in the peerage.

Fareed Family Blend: Darjeeling.  

           On the Menu: While the labeling of Darjeeling is strictly regulated and monitored, the tea itself is a mild, soft black with faint floral notes.  This juxtaposition echoes both the Fareed family's meticulous intelligence and their talent for the delicate art of social maneuvering.              Tea Culture: McGillis has done enough reading, and is attentive enough to social cues, that he can fake it, particularly for Almiria, but his palate is actually quite poor.  He can take or leave tea as a drink--he actually prefers coffee--but weird tea classism is exactly the kind of frivolous luxury he loathes on principle.  Iznario, on the other hand, is quite discerning.              Supplementary Notes: A fun fact about Darjeeling: While the bulk of black tea in India is cultivated from the local variety of the Camellia sinensis plant, assamica, Darjeeling derives from the Chinese type, sinensis.  Literally--early Darjeeling tea was grown from seeds smuggled in from forbidden provinces in China, because the East India Trading Company was getting desperate.  I am delighted by the way this parallels Iznario's propensity to more or less steal children to advance his own ends--of course we all know how he came by McGillis, but Carta and Almiria's ties to the Fareed family echo the methodology as well.    

Issue Family Blend: Matcha.

           On the Menu: The Issue family puts a great deal of stock in tradition and ceremony.  Our matcha--rich, astringent, and demanding--is a perfect match.            Tea Culture: Carta, with her strict personality, would be startlingly skilled with the whole matcha process, though it would have taxed her patience mightily as a young child.  She would be smug bordering on intolerable that she drinks it straight, unlike that thin, oversweetened nonsense Gaelio favors.            Supplementary Notes: Probably the least likely in-universe call, as Teiwaz and its associated members are the ones hanging onto most of the Japanese culture in the setting, rather than Gjallarhorn, with its European trappings.  However, I can't resist drawing the parallel between Carta's fondness for (even reliance on) established battle strategies, her kitsune tails and kabuki makeup, and matcha, that most rigorously, performatively Japanese of teas.  If I didn't go with matcha, I probably would have gone with a good quality white, but the delicacy and subtlety of white teas didn't really seem like Carta's bag, and we don't have any other family members to compare to.

Kujan Family Blend: Masala Chai.

           On the Menu: An Assam-based blend, this bold black tea is warmed by cloves, ginger and nutmeg.  It reflects the Kujan family's reputation for producing leaders whose strength and easy charisma win the unflagging loyalty of their followers.  Sweeten liberally with milk and cinnamon for the young or young at heart!            Tea Culture: Iok's father, a man of such legendary prowess and charm that he had a generation of soldiers prepared to die for his children, probably drank this mostly straight, adding milk to sweeten it a bit when he was sharing it with his men.  Iok, who has the taste palate of a spoiled nine-year-old, likes it so sweet that the family cook has secretly taken to leaving the Assam out entirely.            Supplementary Notes: Iok is actually the person in the cast most likely to know his way around a Japanese tea ceremony, if his talent for kanji calligraphy is anything to go by, but chai's particularities--a widely social drink, and one whose production varies so hugely recipe to recipe that some of them don't even bother with tea leaves at all--make it an easy call for someone like Iok, whose charisma and passion make it easy to miss that someone left all the authenticity in his father's cup.  Iok is also the most "exotic"-looking of the Gjallarhorn cast, and chai is exotic enough that it's spread overseas under a name that in its own language just means "tea," making it a likely call from our hypothetical Gundam café looking to find something that's foreign-sounding but not so obscure that it's unmarketable.

Elion Family Blend: Russian Caravan. 

           On the Menu: This green/black tea blend--oolong, keemun, and lapsang souchong--is famed for its characteristically smoky flavor.  Bold and complex by turns, but with a mellow finish, this nuanced brew matches perfectly to the Elion family's dauntless yet urbane heir.              Tea Culture: Rustal, like McGillis, has little investment in Tea Culture, though in his case it's more because he already knows what he likes and has little interest in exploring other flavors as a weird rich person hobby.  Exasperatingly set in his ways, he makes no secret of the fact that he thinks his family brew is a superior tea, and is happy to lean into the star-faring romance of its characteristic flavor blend (see below).            Supplementary Notes: The smoke flavor today comes from the lapsang souchong, which is dried over pine smoke, but folklorically, it was thought to have been imparted to the tea by the smoke of campfires on the long trek through Mongolia between China and Russia.  As the admiral of the Arianrhod fleet, Rustal is the member of the Gjallarhorn cast who does the most traveling in the black depths of space, and so the imagery of strong-flavored brews to push back against the cold felt like a natural match.  Additionally, while Rustal isn't canonically of any particular nationality, he does share his ash blond hair shade with many an anime Russian, which also influenced this match.

Baklazan Family Blend: Silver Needle.

           On the Menu: This most rarified of white teas features a profoundly delicate flavor with just a whisper of natural sweetness.  The skill, care and discernment involved in its production speak to the Baklazan family head's light touch and keen insight, honed over his many long years on the Council of the Seven Stars.            Tea Culture: Lord Baklazan sticks almost completely to white and green teas; even oolong is a bit over-strong for his palate.  He's blind, and so finds quite enough to savor in the milder, more nuanced cups of the traditional Eastern teas.  He's a bit busy to mind his family's tea brand on his own, but there's an underling on the family payroll whose only and entire job description is "tea master," who Nemo is relieved to say he's unlikely to outlive.              Supplementary Notes: We know precious little about Nemo Baklazan, other than his very particular design--even his being blind is blatant supposition on my part--but someone in that council room after McGillis's coup looked around at a room full of dudes in full riot gear and decided, "Despite the implications of those worryingly large guns, McGillis actually can't force us to side with him."  Between Nemo, Gallus, and Lord Falk, I'm willing to bet it was Nemo, suggesting a prudent, cautious, but ultimately insightful man.  I also wanted to have a proper white on this list somewhere, and he definitely looks the type to have the most refined tastes in Chinese teas.  Silver Needle is, not coincidentally, also the most expensive white tea, which feels appropriate for one of the oldest and most influential men in the solar system.

Falk Family Blend: English Breakfast.

           On the Menu: A blend of Ceylon and Assam teas with an added earthy Kenyan, brewed to stand up to all the milk or sugar you could add as an indispensable part of the classic full breakfast.  Our stoutest black, this tea reflects the Falk family's pragmatism and resolve in the face of the changing times.            Tea Culture: Probably the member of the Seven Stars with the greatest active interest in where his household is procuring its tea, Lord Falk always has time to offer his opinion on a cup--Almiria found him to be quite the educational resource, on the few occasions they ever spoke.  He has a generous, adventurous palate, though he feels most at home with traditional blacks.            Supplementary Notes: Oh my god, you guys, we know basically nothing about Elek Falk--he doesn't even have Lord Baklazan's distinct design!  He has a big medallion of the sort that you sometimes see on Anime Popes, but there's no indication that organized religion figures into Gjallarhorn's affairs, and even if it does, the dude who responds, "That's just a fairy tale!" to claims of Agnika's soul animating Bael does not strike me as a likely spiritual leader.  He seems interested in getting to the bottom of mysteries--he's one of the voices pressing for continued investigation into Galan Mossa after the Silent War--but those are literally all of the characterization cues we get for him.  I don't want to sit here saying, "I picked English Breakfast because he looks like a guy who never skips a good full breakfast, if you get my drift, hohoho," but, like, if the shoe fits...  

[stillness-in-green]

Do you think Gallus truly loved his children?

Wow, that is a heck of a question, anon.  A question, I think, that we don’t really know enough to answer, especially because there’s so, so much packed into the phrase “truly loved.”  I hate to admit it about any aspect of the show, but that’s just not a level of conjecture I’m comfortable making and tagging under the auspices of ‘researched meta’ rather than ‘blatant speculation.’

I can give you some considerations to help you draw your own conclusions, though.  I’ll put this under a cut for discussion of Almiria, McGillis and the nature of their relationship post-marriage.

o How close was Gallus to his children?  How close was he to his parents?  Almiria looks to be largely watched over by her maid–is that because her mother’s not around anymore or is there just not a great deal of familial closeness in the Bauduin family/the Seven Stars at large?  Was he closer to Gaelio, as the son he was raising to follow directly in his footsteps, or was Gaelio likewise raised mostly by tutors and servants when he wasn’t running around with McGillis and Carta?

o Did Gallus listen to his children?  What does it mean that Gaelio thought it better to stay with Rustal Elion than even hint to his family that he had survived the Battle of Edmonton?  Is that a statement on Gaelio’s lack of trust, an implication that he doesn’t think Gallus can keep a secret, or was Gaelio just too wrapped up in his own sense of betrayal and whatever advice Rustal was feeding him to even consider contacting his family?  And on the other hand, did Almiria ever have any reservations about her engagement?  Probably not too many–she plainly adores McGillis–but that just leads us to another problem.

o A huge issue with breezily stating that Gallus loves his children is the matter of Almiria’s marriage to McGillis.  It’s one thing when it was just a betrothal–you could put off a betrothal for years–but by the second season, we are by all available evidence post-wedding.  Does that mean Almiria and McGillis have consummated?  What would the expectation have been, socially?  And if that social expectation was that McGillis would wait until Almiria was an appropriate age before–lets call it ‘advancing’ things, does that actually even matter?  Surely there’s moral culpability in sending your daughter into another man’s home before she’s of an age where sex would be healthy or safe, regardless of whether or not her husband has promised to wait.  How does this decision weigh into “love,” and if it damns the possibility for Almiria, can we automatically assume it does the same for Gaelio?

o Consider the fact that IBO was specifically conceived to be somewhat more “medieval” in execution.  Barbatos’s mace is just the most blatant example; are medieval ideas about marriageable age also present?  If that’s the norm for the setting, or Earth nobility generally, how does that impact our view?  Are we defining by his terms or by ours?  If you think that his decisions about Almiria make him a terrible person–a narcissist, an abuser, a neglectful parent, or whatever conclusions you come to–you then also have to ask whether you think terrible people are capable of true love.  Do you subscribe to the belief that abusers by definition do not feel love, because 1 Corinthians 13:4-7?  Or do you think that abusers can love, but that love is not enough to render an abuser not an abuser?  

Here’s what I think:  

When Gaelio cuts into McGillis’s broadcast, revealing his face to the world, he names himself specifically as the son of Gallus Bauduin, and the scene very pointedly shows us this:

That’s Gallus falling to his knees, a sheen of tears flashing over his eyes as his breathing goes hoarse and thready.  There’s no faking that reaction.  If anything, it’s a reaction that would be dangerously vulnerable in the normal cutthroat atmosphere of the Seven Stars meetings.

A few episodes later, we see him in McGillis’s home, trying to collect Almiria, and his tenor there–to my ear anyway–is furious with outrage.  He shouts at Almiria briefly, but his words are all about McGillis; he groups Almiria in the number of those who have been betrayed, not those who are doing the betraying.  When Almiria makes her stand, though, he doesn’t try to boss her around as her father or physically force her to do what he wants.  He just says her name–not disappointed, or angry, but heartbroken, like he’s finally realizing that he has lost both of his children, and for no reason but his own power-plays.

To reiterate a point I’ve made before, I think Gallus loved and raised his children in the same way that he was loved and raised as a child, and that’s really where the problem lay all along. 

[stillness-in-green]

Everything's Right Until It's Wrong (feat. Gallus Bauduin’s A+ Parenting)

I don't know about anyone else, but there's something about Gallus Bauduin that I find deeply hilarious.  When the BF and I were first watching through the second season, we had a few talks about him--the BF just couldn't get a handle on the guy.  He couldn't decide whether the show was trying to show Gallus as a total buffoon or a complete chessmaster, while it always seemed pretty plain to me that Gallus is neither of those at all.   

Rather, Gallus strikes me as a genial, outgoing man groomed his entire life to eventually take on a position of power.  He's no authoritarian tyrant; he doesn't need to be.  He has children that are largely obedient, or at least whose outbursts aren't outside the normal bounds of childish rebellions.  He's comfortable in his seat of power, wielding it as one who's accustomed to it, and does not expect any major upsets in the smooth sailing that is his life.  For the bulk of the series, we never see him without a smile on his face, as he carries out his modest manipulations and power plays with an ever-present air of calm, paternal satisfaction.  Like most of the Seven Stars, he doesn’t seem to care overmuch about the state of the world outside his own privileged sphere.  He knows how the game of his life is played, including the role children play in said game, and has zero doubts that his position as bolstered by said children is totally secure.

And that's what makes his comeuppance in season two so satisfying.  I mean, he must have been so proud, don’t you think?  

 Gallus has, on the one hand, a son who's a promising young officer rooting out corruption in Gjallarhorn, veritably drowning in marriage proposals, good friends with the heir of another family, a capable fighter, but still on top of the latest fashions (because there's no way that hairstyle is anything other than the latest noble fashion).  Gaelio is tall and broad-shouldered, handsome, sociable, and the worst anyone can say about him is that he's a little blithe, and sometimes shirks his social obligations.  And, well, he's young; those are acceptable flaws in a young man, the kind of thing Gaelio will eventually mature out of.  No problems there.   

Gallus has, on the other hand, a young blossom of a daughter determined to be everything a young lady should be.  She's pretty in a way that will mature into beauty, devoted to learning the feminine arts, demure now, but with a spark that can surely be nourished into confidence and poise as she grows.  She's honing her social graces, she loves the man Gallus has picked for her, and she gives Gaelio just enough hassle to keep him on his toes.  No problems there.  

If you look below the surface, you find even more to like.  They're both willing to admit shortcomings and gaps in their knowledge. They're both willing to take guidance from sources they trust.  They're honest, earnest people, people who have been raised to place a high value on personal honor and dedication to one's allies.  They're not cruel to their subordinates, but they're not afraid of flexing their status if they need to, either.  Beautiful, perfect children, raised to beautifully, perfectly, advance the Bauduin family name. 

And yet therein lie all of Gallus' problems.

Gaelio is so completely bound to the obligation to avenge betrayal that he never even told his father he was alive.  He could have reached out to Gallus at any time, and McGillis would have gone down in flames for the stunt with Grimgerde.  But that would only have avenged Gaelio himself, and that wasn't enough: he had to avenge Carta and Ein, as well, and legal channels would not have accomplished that goal.  Conversely, his dedication to personal honor also meant that he couldn't just attack McGillis in/as Vidar and be done with it.  He needed to know what McGillis's intentions were; there had to have still been a part of him that acknowledged the corruption within Gjallarhorn and still wanted to know how McGillis planned to fix it.  All the way up to Bael, you get the feeling Gaelio would have listened to McGillis's explanation.

But the complications with McGillis aren't the worst of what Gaelio's upbringing lead him to, not by a long shot.  No, because of the belief structure he'd been raised to, Gaelio believed more than anyone in the legitimate nobility of an unbalanced zealot like Ein Dalton.  He should have jettisoned that particular subordinate as soon as he wound up plugged into an illegal custom Graze, but Gaelio didn't just stand by him, oh, no.  That faith was so strong that Gaelio wound up getting taboo body modification that linked him physically and mentally to the Devil of Edmonton.

When Gaelio first saw Mika's three Alaya-Vijnana implants, he literally retched at the side of the road.  That's a noble's response to an orphan space rat getting a surgery everyone knows about to make a living--how much worse do you think the reaction would be from Gallus when he finds out his own son, one of the richest and most influential people in the system, was willingly involved with something as horrific as the Type-E Alaya system?  And even if Gallus could find a way to move past that prejudice, what do you think the odds are that anyone else in their social strata could?  So much for all those marriage prospects.  

And speaking of marriage prospects…

Almiria is so completely bound to her vision of what a lady and wife should be that, even after the most awful kind of personal betrayal, she still clung to her tattered dignity and her title as McGillis’s wife.  She took news of McGillis’s uprising like a samurai’s wife, totally prepared to sacrifice everything for her husband’s goals, because that’s what a good wife is supposed to do.  And sure, some of that is tied up, not in her idea of what it is to be a lady, but in her conflicted love for McGillis himself—I also don't doubt for a moment that, as someone who is already wrestling with how people deride behind her back her as a child, Almiria saw the one avenue that would give her any agency in what was going to happen to her next and grabbed it with both hands.  She didn't say any of that stuff, though; no, her defense of her decision when Gallus demands she reverse it is 100% wrapped in the language of nobility and wifely obligation. She has learned exactly how to talk the language a noble woman should talk, and how to flex her social status to achieve her own ends.  

I mean, really.  It must burn to know you’ve raised your kids to hew so perfectly, and so courageously, to your own ethics that no amount of threatened damage to the family name and call to circle the wagons will dent the armor of that doomed idealism.  Gallus Bauduin raised his children to be exactly the people they are, and look at where that got him in the end.  Of all the people who survived to see the epilogue, I can't imagine there's one who did it with such a powerful sense of gall as him.  

The schadenfreude, my friends.  It is so good.