The Time: The Victorian Era, 1800s
The Place: London Town.
The
Situation: Dinosaur Misplacement.
This is the
first episode in which we get to see The Doctor in his 12th
incarnation. This is important because the Doctor’s personality subtly (or at
least superficially) changes when he regenerates. The Doctor does of course
experience true changes to his personality (see the pilot episode from 1963 for
an idea of this), but these changes are more gradual, and more important.
Particularly, we are at a time when The Doctor has stopped running from The
Time War. He has realized that he wishes to find Gallifrey and return it to the
temporal flow.
”I am alone. The world
which shook at my feet, the trees, the sky, have gone. And I am alone now.
Alone. The wind bites now, and the world is grey and I am alone. Can’t see it…
I can’t see…”
~ A Dinosaur
The primary
theme of this episode is Change. The Doctor’s Companion Clara feels that she
has lost her old friend when the Doctor regenerates. More than this, she has
lost a man who she felt comfortable falling in love with. In the guise of a
young man, The Doctor was ‘flirtatious’, even desirable. But by changing his
face, becoming someone far older, he is at once different: no longer
flirtatious, no longer ‘fun’. But perhaps the most unnerving is that his
outward body more keenly reflects the man inside, making the former, 11th
Doctor, seem like a lie, a passing illusion. The implication is that the Doctor
feels safe enough with Clara to be more like himself around her, and still be
accepted.
The
dinosaur in London is a metaphor for the Doctor: a comparatively ancient, wild
and powerful being lost in a new world [body] it does not understand.
The
Paternoster Gang (Strax, Jenny and Vastra) are in this episode to highlight the
importance of accepting change, and the superficiality of an outer appearance.
Strax is Soltaran, a warrior species more commonly associated with causing
conflicts than solving them, and yet Strax is allied with Vastra, a reptilian Silurian
who uses her detective skills to solve crimes. Jenny is by no means an ordinary
figure among them, an outspoken and radical adventuress in the body of a woman
of the Victorian Underclass, perhaps one of the most oppressed species in Earth
history. Vastra and Jenny’s romantic relationship is about much more than
showmanship here – it is a reminder that Love, a concept, is more important
than its material composite; more than race, or sex, or face. This is something
Clara has yet to learn, though she denies it.
“I wear a veil as he wore a face, and for the
same reason. To be accepted.[…] I wear a veil to keep from view what many are
pleased to call my disfigurement. I do not wear it as a courtesy to such
people, but as a judgment on the quality of their hearts.”
~ Madame Vastra
Vastra
responds to Clara’s discomfort with the metamorphosed Doctor with a prejudice
of her own: that Clara, as a person who has difficulty dealing with perspective
change (facing the truth), will reject it. Vastra is used to being judged
herself, and sees the smallest show of discomfort as a slight against her
differences. Her automatic hostility and dismissal of those who are not immediately accepting is a sort of prejudice,
too. This is a deliberate hypocrisy, as she is a detective: detectives who
accept what is immediate without further investigation are ‘bad’ detectives.
Her
response (in wearing a veil) stems from the judgment that she will never be
accepted for what she is, and that society will never be able to overcome its
own prejudice – so much so that she hides behind privacy, and does not give
people a chance to recognize her for what she really is: and this is the source of Clara’s discomfort,
and anger. The Doctor lied to her about his true nature out of the belief that
she and others would only accept a pretty young man, rather than an ancient, scarred
and terrifying dinosaur. He prejudged her along with humanity as superficial.
Fruitless
anger, ultimately. Everyone wears a veil, by being bigger on the inside. Being
angry at something for not being obvious is screaming at the wind for blowing.
“You can’t see me, can you? You look at me and
you can’t see me. Do you have any idea what that’s like? I’m right here,
standing in front of you. Please just… just see me.”
The enemy
in this episode is a group struggling against their own Actual change. Crash-landing
on Earth in the Jurassic Era, the ship’s automated crew found themselves
running short on the supplies necessary to keep them functioning for long
enough to achieve their mission – reaching ‘The Promised Land’. This mission is
an important question – is it part of what the droids were originally
programmed for, or was it one that came along with the flesh they consumed,
just a part of the veil? Either way, the droids are programmed to follow a
fundamental doctrine and are willing to sacrifice everything they are to uphold
that doctrine. Unlike the doctor, who has removed a veil from his character,
the Droid Pilgrims add veils of flesh to keep themselves in working condition
and access the resources to repair their ship. But as they do so, they find
themselves becoming less machine and more human; less their original selves,
and more alike to the parts they have used to repair themselves across the
ages, until they lose their original purpose entirely.
Clearly
this is designed to draw a parallel with The Doctor who, by his 12th
incarnation, is in a body without a scrap of the original in it. At least
physically – the question is, what about the doctrine? Has that too been
replaced, or is it the same as it ever was? Is the change superficial, or
actual?
The clever
climax of this encounter puts The Doctor up against the Droids’ captain, and
the Doctor diagnoses the Droids with losing their basic programming. He
suggests that they have become hollow and lost any purpose other than to
survive and that this this purpose alone is worthless. He prescribes the Droids
with suicide, which the Droid captain refuses, saying that that is against its
basic programming.
The Droid
counters that the Doctor will need to kill him, which is seemingly against The Doctor’s basic programming. In order
to end the conflict, one of them must abandon their doctrine and prove that
they have lost their original self entirely.
We never
find out who did. The Droid’s body is shown impaled on St. Paul’s Cathedral,
and it is unclear if he jumped or was pushed. But perhaps more importantly, we
have a new question:
The Doctor is a killer. He conducts the act through
diplomacy, command, and neglect – but he does
kill, albeit coldly. Are diplomacy, command, and necessity part of his
doctrine, or a veil he has developed because killing people outright would be
too horrific even for himself to accept? Has he continued to distance himself
from the act, or is he willing to accept responsibility for the fact that he is
a murderer? The Doctor’s nature is to run, even from himself. But we are told
he isn’t running away any longer…
“What do you think of
the view?”
“It is beautiful.”
“No it isn’t. It’s
just far away, everything looks too small. I prefer it down there – everything
is huge. Everything is so important, every detail, every moment, every life
clung to.”
The Doctor
kills the droids because they lose sight of what their hollow ideal is doing to
those around them – their doctrine has become a conflict between reaching The
Promised Land, and survival. They profess to want to reach The Promised Land,
but do not seek it out. As The Promised Land is culturally seen as a place
where murderers do not go, they are distancing themselves from it by surviving
through murder. Their doctrine is a paradox. It is by solving the paradox, the
prime conflict of their existence, that they at last enter Paradise.
This brings
about the question of whether the Droids changed or not; was their goal to
reach The Promised Land caused by their imbibing organic parts, and their
original Doctrine ‘Survival’? Or were they always pilgrims, whose doctrine
changed to ‘Survival’? Did they legitimately change by suicide, or did they
revert to their original doctrine by committing it?
The Kiss
There was a
lot of talk about the kiss shared by Jenny and Vastra in this episode, and the
regular nutters saw it as something problematic and ‘immoral’. They were right,
but for the wrong reasons. It is, of course, entirely natural for homosexuals
to kiss on a public forum, and for xenosexuals to kiss on a public forum, and
technically as Vastra is from Earth and what we term an animal, for bestials to
kiss on a public forum.
But it is
not okay, after spending an episode talking about how veils separate us from
our true natures – and how putting up a veil in contempt of humanity in general
is prejudiced – – AND how we can accept
changes while holding on to doctrine – – – to go an pass off a kiss as essential,
strictly necessary CPR. That’s a veil. And it isn’t in keeping with the message
of the episode to have it there.
For shame,
BBC. For shame. Give us proper kisses.
Aesthetics vs. Concept |
First Sight
Love at
first sight is compared to spontaneous combustion by Jenny. In a way this is a
mention of the dangers of prejudice; ‘love at first sight’ is to reach an immediate
conclusion about a person’s nature without grounding it on firmly investigated
premises. Declaring an act as “spontaneous combustion” is likewise observing a
conclusion without investigating or acknowledging its premises. There is no
spontaneous combustion, only fires with an unidentified propellant. Just as
there is no love at first sight, only another sort of fire with a different
unidentified propellant.
This is a
second reason why the Paternosters are in this episode: to press the importance
of investigation and detection above platitude and generalization. Change is in
a conceptual sense a flux in information. But this flux comes in different
forms.
For an
example of these, look at the androids. They are a mechanical species that
change metallic parts for organic ones. They remain mechanical, because both
metal and flesh are a mechanical medium. This is what is called a superficial
or aesthetic change.
They are
also programmed service robots. This is their Doctrine. At first sight, we only
see them as robotic killers. But after consideration, we learn that they kill
in service of a ‘higher’ cause. This is a perceptive change, which happens in
the observer, not the observed.
Lastly,
they are pilgrims. Part of their original Doctrine was to travel the universe,
but this Doctrine was abandoned in favour of a second doctrinal aspect,
survival. The androids reached a point where the one part of their Doctrine
completely displaced the other. This is an Actual change.
These three
changes are clearest in different characters of the episode. The Doctor has
undergone Aesthetic change. Clara undergoes Perceptive change. The Droid
Captain undergoes Actual Change.
All of
these are a sort of flux out of an original state, be it morality, ignorance,
or material.
Aesthetic
change is seen as positive so long as it removes the veils between it and
Doctrine, essentially an affirmation of the principles of materialism – finding
a physical expression of an internal concept.
Perspective
change is seen as a positive when it roves towards an understanding of concept,
not blindness to it, and not putting up veils of censorship around it.
Actual
change is pictured as less positive, as something that must only happen when it
is put in conflict with its parts. It is also the most climactic, destructive
sort of change, and thus the focal point of the episode.
What’s with the heavy Breathing?
Aside from
the fact that Moffat likes to turn children’s games into adult ‘do or die’
situations (Perhaps harkening to man’s greatest fear as a loss of innocence, imagination,
and youth), breathing is a metaphor for the inevitability of change. Holding
your breath is depicted as a way to ‘pause’ and hide from an imminent event
(doom), keeping things in an anticipant state. But just as we cannot survive
without breathing, we cannot exist without an exhale of change. What is
achieved in the moment when breathing has stopped? It can only be taken to
prepare, to acclimatize, to gather the resources necessary to cope. In this
way, Episode 8.01 is itself a Deep Breath, a moment where we see the familiar
face of Eleven for one last time, surrounded by the faces of the Paternosters and
Clara. Change is inevitable. It’s here.
But there’s
time for one last gasp before it arrives.