Been reading some time-travel fix-it-fics and having a great time.
As a music, religion, and literature nerd, the Dies Irae has been one of my favorite go-to pieces of trivia for a long time, which means that this line:
Has been driving me batshit BONKERS since part 42! And also as a semi-professional media analysis yapper, I figured I might as well dive into the exact reasons I jumped up and audibly gasped upon first hearing this line and have subsequently lost my mind since then. So!
Here is why I think that the Dies Irae is the perfect analogy for John and Arthur:
Let's start with the most straightforward meaning: "Dies Irae" is a Latin term, and it translates to the "Day of Wrath." Or otherwise known as the Judgement Day, the foretold second coming in Catholic canon, when Christ will "come again in glory to judge the living and the dead." It's at this Last Judgement where God will wield perfect justice to send the worthy to everlasting peace and the unworthy to everlasting punishment. (everyone say "thank you" to excessive childhood Catholic lessons for burning this into my brain)
There's a kind of irony to the fact that Arthur so vehemently rejects Christianity and religion as a whole, and that John spends much of his arc trying to distance himself from the role/identity of a god, yet both are given this incredibly religious title, effectively restricting them from ever forgetting the presence/influence of religion in their lives.
This title has a couple layers though, because we have to consider why it's the Day of Wrath specifically that represents Arthur and John. Now, I don't think I have to tell you that those two are bursting with anger 80% of the time. But I am going to tell you that those two are not just angry, but moreso "divine fury" incarnate.
The Day of Wrath, the Final Judgment, is the final and eternal judgment of God on all: "For now before the Judge severe / all hidden things must plain appear; / no crime can pass unpunished here." (Dies Irae, Dies Illa). The final Judge, the all-powerful God, can see the objective morality of every single person, and is thus the sole, rightful determiner of fate.
This assumption of their right to perfectly and single-handedly decide others' worthiness shows up over and over, not just John and Arthur's actions, but also in how they describe these judgments.
When Arthur kills the widow on the island, it's not because she was dangerous, but because she was a cultist who "deserved" to be punished.
When John and Arthur need to get rid of Mr. Scratch's stone, John says they should give it to "criminals" who are "deserving of this curse." Even though, just moments before, Arthur refused to give the stone to Oscar because to do so would be to cursing him to a fate of eternal suffering.
And I can't go into every single detail about the entire Larson plotline because this post would double in size, but it obviously needs to be included here. Possibly the strongest tie between this arc and the idea of the Dies Irae is Arthur's conviction through it all. Arthur vows that he is going to kill Larson in divine retribution not because he wants to, but because he has to. He even goes so far as to admit that killing Larson will be a mistake, a cruel and overly-bloodthirsty action that goes against his compassion. But killing Larson isn't a choice to Arthur, it is the unavoidable punishment for Larson's sins and Arthur is simply the enactor of justice. Just like the Final Judgment, there is no sympathy, no hesitancy— the judgment is absolute, divinely ordained, and cannot be stopped no matter how undeniably horrific it is.
If we look at the Catholic Catechism, principle 2302 states that it is sinful to kill out of desire, but that it is "praiseworthy to impose restitution" and use violence to "maintain justic." So even if Arthur has intent to kill, his actions count as divinely sanctioned. He is acting as the hand of God's punishment.
Over the course of Season 3 and 4, Arthur's fiery rage dies down to a more gentle simmer, but his conviction only seems to grow, and John follows suit. Despite previously reprimanding Arthur for his unquestioning wrath, John eventually becomes just as convinced that Larson "deserves" to face a wrathful reckoning. The "fact" that Larson is wholly unforgivable and is fated to receive eternal punishment becomes more indisputable in their minds, and they both stop questioning the morality of their intentions, entirely convinced of their judgment.
Throughout the story, Arthur and John insist upon the importance of kindness, compassion, and forgiveness, and say that these are the values that guide their every action. Yet, time and time again, they approach certain people with nothing but wrath and resentment. It's a sharp contrast to the benevolent figures they make themselves out to be, and Arthur and John are often blind to the contradiction because, in their eyes, they are still following those values in every action. And in the moments when they do recognize their horrific words or actions, they still cannot let their judgment go, convinced that it is their "duty" either way.
In Part 35, Arthur says "Just because you can't make the hard decision, doesn't mean it's wrong." This is exactly how John and Arthur view themselves. They know that some of their actions are harsh and violent and painful, but they are don't view that violence as wrong, because they are enacting that violence in justice. They move through life with carefully-selected destruction, culling the world of those they view as unforgivable sinners, and punishing them with divine righteousness. Arthur and John carry righteous fury in their every step, bringing the Day of Wrath down upon the world around them.
Now, there's already a ton of meaning just in this religious allusion alone. However, there's another application of the Dies Irae in modern culture, which brings us to the second side of this title:
Back in the 13th century (sounds like a familiar setting...), friar Thomas of Celano wrote a poem for and about the Dies Irae. The poem was recited at Requiem Mass (church services to honor the dead), and it ended up being set to a Gregorian chant tune.
Over time, this melody has been used by a variety of composers, but the one we're focused on is Hector Berlioz. In 1837, Berlioz used the Dies Irae melody as part of his narrative symphony, Grand Messe de morts, in order to communicate that the main character had died. Then a lot of other composers saw that and said "Hey that's a cool idea!", and started also using this melody to represent death in their music. Nowadays, it's a fairly staple part of modern film and musical storytelling. If you've listened to literally any major soundtrack, then there's a good chance you've heard this motif (or a variation of it) used before. It's often subtle, sometimes loud and obvious, but no matter what, it reveals the inevitable presence of death. (essentially, the Dies Irae=death)
Now, obviously there's something tragically ironic about Arthur being likened to a musical motif when he tries so hard to distance himself from it, and there's something tragically ironic about John being associated with such a dark piece of music when he shows so much fascination and joy toward the art. Again, though, we've got some layers here. Yorick doesn't just compare Arthur and John to the Dies Irae, he literally defines them as the Dies Irae, a full embodiment of it.
Even before the story started, Arthur lost both of his parents, his friend and wife, his daughter, and his best friend.
John, when he was part of the King in Yellow, knew only how to harm and attack. In the Dark World, he falls back on this fearful lashing out with violence, harming even more people.
And throughout the story, John and Arthur seem to bring devastation to everyone else around them: Lilly the buopoth, Oscar, Noel, Collins, Daniel, Larson and Yellow.
The arrival of Dies Irae musical motif in a film always indicates that death is approaching or that is has already struck— a host carrying its blight to spread onto others. Just like the musical motif, the arrival of Arthur and John foretells the near-arrival of death. They play a duet together— John and Arthur, and death— always singing and dancing around and with each other.
These two never succumb to death, always finding a way to slip through its fingers and survive every situation. But they cannot escape death's presence because they are death's partner— singing the melody to death's subtle harmony. They cannot escape death because they are its host— destined to carry and spread devastation to death's victims. From the moment you meet John and Arthur, you know that death is inevitably approaching just a step behind, waiting to strike you down.
Whether it's the religious or musical side, we can see that John and Arthur are the literal embodiment of these allusions. They carry these powers and ideas in their every action and word, in their every step, in their very breath and blood.
Arthur and John. The hands of God's justice. The enactors of divine fury.
Arthur and John. The hosts of blight and destruction. The partner of death's song.
The man himself. The voice inside his head.
The Day of Wrath. The Dies Irae.
If John and Arthur ever separated, I don't think they would ever be able to live without each other. The amount of codependency in their relationship is too much any human or now human to bear.
I see two possible outcomes, either way, one of them cracks and acts up on their desire to become whole again.
1: If John loses his mind first.
When he gets his new body and has already learned coordinating it, (it would take so much time and physical and emotional effort to do so, but that's another story) he would feel too alone even lost. His entire existence as we know now was with Arthur, at least in the human world. He was so afraid to go back to the dark world, he couldn't bear to be alone again. He couldn't hear Arthur's thoughts, nor could Arthur need his assistance anymore. He would be completely on his own. This is enough in itself to go mental, but what if he would feel so alone that he would see the only option to became happy as going back. But there is no going back. He would find a way: cutting open his soulmate's body and getting into him. Once again they'll be whole, and he would be inside him as he should.
2: Arthur looses is first.
When John gets a body, Arthur has to learn to be on his own again, either blind or with eyesight he would lose his guide. Even if he can see again, the world is not the same as John described it, it's different and less colorful. If he can see again, he will see how much damage their adventure done to his body. He is half the man he was before, and no one ever in the whole world could see him and know what he feels other than John. His emotional support is gone, but that was the only thing that got his self-esteem going. He tried, or was on the edge of killing himself before, but now he is too close. He can't even bear to see John, with his new body; no scars, no damage. Not only that, but he had to go through so much, and only he stayed the same? He needs John back, but with a body he needs to put it back someway.
He eats him. Every little piece of him. The hair, the bones. Nothing can leave from him, so they can go back to normal, no John's body, he is John's body, and he is inside of him again.
kayne’s couple therapy
i love how the tma fandom came up with "lonelyeyes" which is one of the most creative ship names ive ever heard and then created "jmart" that sounds like a fucking supermarket
Trying digital stuff again!
mmmm something something about john's love language is his descriptions of the surrounding beauty. <- should be elaborated someday maybe..
something about john repeatedly appreciating this mundane human world, how he as the entity who knows beyond the worlds, someone who survived the dark world and the dreamlands, values the hope this world is giving him; he might be superior (as a part of kiy) to humanity and their world but for now, he's just a part of it, of its hope and dreams, nightmares and despair.
it's all so heartwarming to me.
i hate when you google a word and some fucking company comes up instead. Do you think you are more important than the english dictionary you piece of shit corporation
I think we all need some soup right now. Reblog to give prev a bowl of their favourite soup.
I remember saying that “oh Lillith hates her dad so much, that she’s going to risk death by awakening Azathoth”
No. it’s actually Kayne. Kayne hates his dad so much he’s going to risk actually dying just to kill him, make sure he doesn’t exist. This is what daddy issues do to a man.
A little Noel and Arthur as a treat, Kingsmen, I believe?
I don’t post very often because I’m often busy with schoolI draw sometimes idk
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