Angela Bocage

New crack for the lawyers…much more enjoyable than synthetic blood…

Twilight having reached pinnacles of synergistic ubiquity heretofore unknown, it’s fortunate for me that, in a frenzy not dissimilar to that which possessed me during the first few days after Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows dropped, I’d long ago read all the books plus Meyer’s grownup book The Host before any randomly heard conversations between dumbass fellow SEPTA-passengers could spoil any surprises. So now, the wonderfully clever and amusing young (mostly young) attorneys with whom I share space have moved on to discussing True Blood and devouring Charlaine Harris’ series of southern vampire novels on which the HBO series is based. It’s my personal version of watching football, I guess, in the sense of being utterly useless and silly and bewitchingly fun vicarious involvement in events so far from our own real lives. In the same way as the football fans discuss the games—what coaches might do, relative skills of players—we discussed throughout the first season whether Sam could have killed vampire-friendly female Bon Temps citizens to frighten Sookie away from Bill, whether the Sheriff’s Department could have been covering up for one of their own, what Amy was REALLY after. But the brilliant twist of the whole series, books and HBO, is that in making the vampires the latest civil rights-vs.-bigotry flashpoint, they force the viewer to exist in a world where race and sexuality aren’t all that important. This can be very disturbing, e.g. when Sookie’s friend and coworker Lafayette, both gay and African American, confronts a high-profile politician with whom he’s had various extra-legal business dealings—because he’s outraged by the would-be senator’s anti-vampire stance, not his homophobia—and then proceeds to use the politician’s constituents’ racism to harm his electability by posing for a friendly photo. The choice of music and the swampy southern atmosphere of the show are also rather enchanting. Next season it’ll probably suck, so I’m glad to have at least been turned on the the books.


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