Discussion of Dark Story, "Scold's Bridle"

If we want to continue the dark/morality discussion "A succubus for christmas" is probably the best one.

Do it then. This was a fascinating discussion.

I especially liked Shang's first long response up there, because he mentions so many of the real, nuts-and-bolts kind of writerly problems that end up shaping a story--how to strike the right balance in Bridget's character between innocent and female libber. That's not easy to do in a story this short, and I think he pulled it off quite well.

When I was talking about knowing more about the "creation of the monster", I guess I meant knowing more about the magical bond between Richard and the imp--whether the monster was his familiar, doing his will, or whether he was like a tiger Richard had by the tail. On second thought though, I think Shang was right to play it as he did and leave it ambiguous and let us make of it what we will. Too much monster and too much explanation are fatal to horror.

At the same time, I was waiting for someone to say something about Judy's Cavalry-style rescue, but I think it's perfectly acceptable here. Once the demon appears, we enter the realm of fable and we expect things like that.

All in all, I think the more I went over this story, the more I came to like it. It's neat and thin as a razor.
 
Take the example of the apple-pie family in danger. The audience knows nothing really bad is going to happen to the family unit. But what if the youngest daughter is killed in the first reel? All of a sudden we're now in a completely different film.

Of course there is always the question of whether this film/story would still qualify as entertainment, but horror has always had to walk along that fine line.

I guess there is a lesson here in that life is ultimately fairly random and bad things can and do all too often happen to people who don't deserve it. The odd reminder of this isn't a bad role for horror to take, but repeatedly bludgeoning people over the head with it is just depressing.

My tuppence anyway.

You might want to check out a copy of "A Clockwork Orange" if you haven't seen it. You're talking about breaking with convention and revising the formula.

ST
 
You might want to check out a copy of "A Clockwork Orange" if you haven't seen it. You're talking about breaking with convention and revising the formula.

ST

I kind of wish I could shut up about this now. *L* Innocent-bystander horror seems to be a uniquely 20th-century phenomenon, and looking at the history of the century you can pretty well see why. With the large-scale bombardment of civilian centers being accepted as a normal tactic in the waging of war, everyone lost their innocence,. and nuclear weapons made everyone a potential victim. There were no sidelines any more.

Shang is right about the enormity of the disparity between cause and effect in horror too. Some little sin now seems to bring down the wrath of the gods, and I think it's our insistence on trying to bring the forces of evil and good into some sort of moral alignment that makes us flock to conspiracy theories and the over-reaction that led to the invasion of Iraq as a way of avenging 9/11. We simply couldn't accept that it was the work of a couple score of maniacs. We subconsciously felt that evil that huge must have a huge source behind it--some government or state, something that was seeking to destroy our very way of life, something worth our biggest bombs and bullets--and so off we went.

One thing more I wanted to mention--totally unrelated, but a brilliant little fillip now that I know Shang invented it himself--and that's the iron bar down the back business. Bondage is theater, and what that bar does is force Bridget into a prideful attitude: head high, back erect. My own theory is that in BDSM women are often being punished for the sin of being desirable, and here the bridle forces her to maintain that prideful stance even as she's being punished or, even worse with the demon present, raped and ravished. It gives the device an especially nasty and ironic edge. One of those details that seasons a story so well, that you remember long after the reading's done.
 
I kind of wish I could shut up about this now. *L* Innocent-bystander horror seems to be a uniquely 20th-century phenomenon, and looking at the history of the century you can pretty well see why. With the large-scale bombardment of civilian centers being accepted as a normal tactic in the waging of war, everyone lost their innocence,. and nuclear weapons made everyone a potential victim. There were no sidelines any more.

Shang is right about the enormity of the disparity between cause and effect in horror too. Some little sin now seems to bring down the wrath of the gods, and I think it's our insistence on trying to bring the forces of evil and good into some sort of moral alignment that makes us flock to conspiracy theories and the over-reaction that led to the invasion of Iraq as a way of avenging 9/11. We simply couldn't accept that it was the work of a couple score of maniacs. We subconsciously felt that evil that huge must have a huge source behind it--some government or state, something that was seeking to destroy our very way of life, something worth our biggest bombs and bullets--and so off we went.

As human beings we can't stand or truly understand randomness so we tend to look for patterns when in reality there's only noise.
 
*nods* I agree with Dr. M and Hydra on the cause/effect and conspiracy theory issue. I've thought much the same myself. Somehow the idea of vast, shadowy, and diabolical forces at work is actually more comforting than the thought that a handful of people being idiots really can cause staggering quantities of suffering and misery.

The first time I read Jack London's "To Build a Fire," I was too young to understand it and I thought it terribly dull. When I came back to it years later, it began to speak to me, and the more I read it, the more I understood the cold, silent emptiness of it. One mistake. The man makes one tiny mistake, an innocent mistake anyone could have made: he builds his fire too close to a tree. And that's it. He's dead. There is no proportionality of offense and punishment in nature; building a fire under a fir tree carries the death penalty if you do it alone in the depths of winter. That's got a horror of its own to it.

Dr. M, I'm glad you liked the ramrod. I see just what you mean about the position it forces the wearer to take. That's something that seems to me subtly there in many of the punishments specific to women in that period - that element of public shaming that does become a sort of display as well. Thanks for sharing that; it's always a delight to see more in one's own work.

As for me, I re-read the story today for the first time in perhaps a year and had mixed feelings. I still like the image of the bridle, but I found the characters all we've complained of here, and I thought many of the descriptions of emotion, struggle, and violation overwritten. I was constantly itching to prune those. I think that the physical end of things might need ... perhaps not so much more of Richard, but a bit less of the demon. That seems to me more likely to bring the balance I want, a balance that helps readers connect the two and see what it is that unites them. I hadn't thought of re-writing it with any urgency before this discussion, but now I find I'm interested in it again. For that, I thank you all!
 
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manyeyedhydra said:
I'm trying to remember which one that was. It might have been "The Masterton Covenant" mentioned in the I/you thread.

I'm happy for any to go under the knife, providing people think there's enough in the story to be worth discussing in the first place :) I thought this was a very good exercise with some interesting points raised.

If we want to continue the dark/morality discussion "A succubus for christmas" is probably the best one.

The "Scold's Bridle" discussion thread is unusual, maybe even unique. Stories to be discussed are usually volunteered by the author in the queue thread, here:
http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?p=24961976#post24961976

"The Masterton Covenant" is the tale I was thinking of and, you're right, it was the I/you thread, not dark stories- but the choice of story is really yours so please just say which you'd prefer in the queue thread.
 
Dr.M said:
One thing more I wanted to mention--totally unrelated, but a brilliant little fillip now that I know Shang invented it himself--and that's the iron bar down the back business. Bondage is theater, and what that bar does is force Bridget into a prideful attitude: head high, back erect.
The bar is a clever addition. "Bondage is theater", this is related to that presenting aspect you mentioned earlier, yes? Simon's story from almost a year ago (http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=494213) came to mind at once.

Dr.M said:
I especially liked Shang's first long response up there, because he mentions so many of the real, nuts-and-bolts kind of writerly problems that end up shaping a story...
Who didn't feel a little empathetic angst there?

Dr.M said:
At the same time, I was waiting for someone to say something about Judy's Cavalry-style rescue, but I think it's perfectly acceptable here. Once the demon appears, we enter the realm of fable and we expect things like that.
Earlier, Judy all but says she'll become cavalry if Bridget doesn't make dinner, so not like her appearance is a big surprise, but I'm less willing to believe the timing and the ease with which she defeats Richard. Does this have anything to do with me having trouble accepting the demon in the first place?

Dr.M said:
All in all, I think the more I went over this story, the more I came to like it. It's neat and thin as a razor.
So true.

Shanglan said:
As for me, I re-read the story today for the first time in perhaps a year and had mixed feelings. I still like the image of the bridle, but I found the characters all we've complained of here, and I thought many of the descriptions of emotion, struggle, and violation overwritten. I was constantly itching to prune those. I think that the physical end of things might need ... perhaps not so much more of Richard, but a bit less of the demon. That seems to me more likely to bring the balance I want, a balance that helps readers connect the two and see what it is that unites them. I hadn't thought of re-writing it with any urgency before this discussion, but now I find I'm interested in it again. For that, I thank you all!
I think you're being your own worst critic, especially about anything being overwritten.

I'm back where I started:
The tale is effective for its length, but for me it wasn't nearly long enough. Is it a compliment or a criticism that I wanted more?
 
I'm sorry, but I'd just like to be perfectly clear on this. Is someone actually saying that I need to ... say ... more? :eek:

:D
 
I'm sorry, but I'd just like to be perfectly clear on this. Is someone actually saying that I need to ... say ... more? :eek:

:D
No. Someone is saying she wanted more. Looking at the story and your goals, it's clear you accomplished what you set out to do. That's really how any story ought to be evaluated, isn't it? I don't think you need to, or should, change anything.
 
The first time I read Jack London's "To Build a Fire," I was too young to understand it and I thought it terribly dull. When I came back to it years later, it began to speak to me, and the more I read it, the more I understood the cold, silent emptiness of it. One mistake. The man makes one tiny mistake, an innocent mistake anyone could have made: he builds his fire too close to a tree. And that's it. He's dead. There is no proportionality of offense and punishment in nature; building a fire under a fir tree carries the death penalty if you do it alone in the depths of winter. That's got a horror of its own to it.

A wonderful connection here ... the conversation has focused so heavily on the evil in the individual human that the connection you find with London (and many others of his ilk) brings us back to the greater evil lurking in nature itself ... not only human nature ... that is, if you're a naturalist like London.

The man's error wasn't just a horrible mistake ... he was an experienced trapper whose knowledge, had he used that rather than let his (perhaps) ego -- he could go up against the forces of nature again and win -- allows him to trap himself. He, more than someone like me, should be expected to know the dangers of building a fire under a snow-loaded pine tree!

It's one sort of tragedy when a child wanders into traffic. It's another when a busy adult allows himself to wander into traffic because he "has to" check his cell phone!

It takes me back to Dr. M's original assertion that we're trying to find the moral behind the action, some way in which we understand the characters "deserve" their fate. It's as if the evil is larger than we ever knew and we fall into the trap, the greatest error of ego being our feeling that "I know what can happen and it can't happen to me, I'm too smart."

I wonder if that might not be a level to explore in your young woman in the tale? Just a thought.

ST
 
Mmm, good point, ST. Of course you're quite right about London; that is, I think that there are many ways you can look at that story, and each of them suggests a different fatal moment or error. But as with the fool who wanders into traffic while checking his cellphone messages, however you slice it there's still that wincing disconnect between the size of the action and the size of the punishment - that remorseless uncaring reality of nature that grinds right along regardless of what it means to the humans involved.

I've been mulling the idea of looking at Bridget's actions in the sin/punishment light, but I'm a little hesitant to go there. I do see that horror has most weight when it's part of a moral structure, but I want that punishment landing on Richard and not on Bridget. I don't care to suggest that Bridget's rape is somehow her own fault, both for ethical reasons and because I honestly want the sin/punishment axis focused on Richard. I'm just trying to work out what I do want out of Bridget, other than "more than is currently here." Innocent lamb to the slaughter hasn't got much depth; I think I need to ponder that some more, perhaps, to come up with what feels right to me.

Desdemona keeps coming to mind, for some reason, although the situation is nothing similar. She is an innocent female character who dies horribly, but whose suffering is really only the catalyst for the full horror: Othello's destruction and damnation. The crime/punishment portion is all centered on Othello. But we get a good lead-up to that; there's powerful dramatic tension maintained because we know what's coming to her and she doesn't, so the whole time she's trying to work out why Othello is being cold to her, we're cringing because we know.

I can't do precisely that sort of setup with this story as it stands, because the POV is through Bridget and thus can't reveal anything she doesn't know. I wonder if it's worth considering if a different POV might open the thing up, or if there's some other way to get Bridget more developed while still keeping the sin/punishment focus on Richard.
 
Earlier, Judy all but says she'll become cavalry if Bridget doesn't make dinner, so not like her appearance is a big surprise, but I'm less willing to believe the timing and the ease with which she defeats Richard. Does this have anything to do with me having trouble accepting the demon in the first place?

This didn't bother me. I guess I felt that towards the end, Richard was in a paroxysm of orgasmic bliss, kind of obscenely writhing on the floor as the demon went about its work, the three of them dissolving into some kind of slimy pool together, and so Judy just bonked him on the head with something.

But it's lovely when this happens, isn't it? When you create a story that, after a year or so, has matured into something worth working on further and carving to bring out a new relief? Visual artists do this all the time. It's like a wine that's aged and changed its character and now needs to be served in a new setting. You know you've hit some depths here.
 
But it's lovely when this happens, isn't it? When you create a story that, after a year or so, has matured into something worth working on further and carving to bring out a new relief? Visual artists do this all the time. It's like a wine that's aged and changed its character and now needs to be served in a new setting. You know you've hit some depths here.

It is lovely, and I would never have seen it if not for this thread. I am most sincerely in your debt, all of you, for bringing me back to this piece. Thank you.
 
... the POV is through Bridget and thus can't reveal anything she doesn't know. I wonder if it's worth considering if a different POV might open the thing up, or if there's some other way to get Bridget more developed while still keeping the sin/punishment focus on Richard.

Sure, though a change of pov, even if it results in a "better' story, also creates a new story, doesn't it? quite different from what you have.

I'm not a horror fiction fan and held off on posting ... though the story interests me, and I found it powerful and well done. Without a knowledge of horror fiction, I didn't sense anything missing -- for me, the mere disproportion between such a violent event and any "justification" provides a good description of horror itself. If the events "made sense," if they were proportionate, perhaps they would be called "justice" or some such. The immensity and irrationality of such events creates a kind of awe and wonder in me, and dismay or revulsion.

I'm glad you mentioned Desdemona. I'd been thinking of Iago. The horror of Othello is, for me, in the mesmerizing dance of Iago as he lures Othello to his own destruction where, horribly and ironically, her impassioned love is the tool Iago uses to pervert their relationship.

But Othello's a more ambitious piece of writing than a short story. Maybe yours wants a companion piece?

I understand that my comments may be pointless given my unfamiliarity with such stories, but I did enjoy "Bridle." Thanks.

ST
 
Oh my, you guys are already on to the next discussion and I haven't even gotten around to adding a few words to this one.

Shanglan, I hope you don't mind my ridiculously late appearance. I sincerely doubt I have something to add that hasn't already been covered, yet I'd like to use this opportunity to introduce myself and tell you I've long admired your postings and writings. It's a pleasure meeting you.

I've said in an earlier post that your story could have delivered more, and I'm embarrassingly aware criticism doesn't get much more useless than that. Allow me to try to do a bit better this time, if only marginally.

One way to approach the "more" I complained about is in terms of tension/surprise. I found the development of the story too predictable, or maybe as if the very climax was missing. From the moment you introduced Richard and the bridle—both very compelling and exquisitely rendered and both responsible for my overall admiration of the story—it was clear something nasty was awaiting Bridget in Richard's apartment. The question was, then, only what it would be and how Bridget would interact with it. While you made me more than eager to find out, the answer you provided appeared to me as if you'd taken the easy way out.

I think it was Penny (and possibly someone else?) who complained about the demon. Since I've always liked my literature sprinkled with a healthy doze of both symbolism and fantastic, I certainly didn't mind the demon, especially not such a memorable and appropriate one. Yet I felt the same twinge of disappointment at the moment of its appearance because I sensed it was going to be the climax of the story. What I expected when I walked in the apartment alongside Bridget was some kind of challenge that would result in her walking out fundamentally changed, and instead I had the feeling the demon was pulled out to distract me, then Bridget was lying unconscious and the story was over before it had properly begun. I thought the demon a delightful character and a delightful personification, but I couldn't accept it either as a key 'surprise' or as a substitute for character interaction and transformation. It's in a way as if I'd asked myself, "How will Bridget deal with this?" and was answered, "The bridle is possessed, you know."

Another way to approach the same problem is in terms of Bridget's character. Although I think she's already been discussed in some detail (I have to admit not to have read every word of the thread), I'd like to state that she does come across exactly as you intended. What bothers me, however, isn't who she is, but what she does—or does not. It's her passive role in the story, the lack of interaction, save for the most superficial kind, between her and the events, rather than any fixed traits you might choose to assign to her character, that left her less than fully realized in my view.

As Doc pointed out, we often expect some kind of moral or at least poetic causality in fiction, which mostly means we expect characters' fates to be rooted in their personalities. To the extent it means deserving one's fate, it's clear to me why you avoided that with Bridget (for rape cannot be 'deserved'), but there's another way to make the connection and I kind of expected you to go that way.

I didn't have that much of a problem with Bridget's ordeal being almost as random as a bag of bricks falling on her head—as far as her deserving it goes—but I expected it to be different in terms of her chance to react and be changed by it. The initial impulse might have come from out of the blue, but I expected more substance (or maybe just more complication?) in how the protag dealt with it.

One possibility, as I think Spencer suggested, was to have Bridget come out corrupted from her interaction with the bridle. I thought the idea to have some merit in that it would effect a change, deserved or not, but I also see how easily it could have stirred the story in the porny direction of yet another uptight feminist discovering her true slutty nature, and I fully understand why you resisted that path. I wonder, however, if there's another possibility that could have worked without compromising your other goals.

I wonder if it would have worked better if Bridget managed to save herself by her own means. I'm not sure how she would have done that (so much for useful advice!) but I think it would have given her a chance to show what she's made of—perhaps even to resolve (or fail to resolve) some kind of defining issue in her character—while forcing you to add some complexity to her interaction with Richard. I know suggesting this is obnoxiously overstepping in the territory of suggesting you write a different story, but I hope you'll accept it as just an attempt to illustrate what bothered me.

Yet another way of trying to explain it is by saying that I felt as though you created a great premise but glossed over the actual story.

There's the bridle, as an object/symbol/character that stands for a particular brand of evil, and there's Richard, a petty little man who feels attraction toward that kind of evil. Whether Richard found the bridle in his sleazy pursuits, or the bridle found him as is evil artifacts' wont, doesn't matter, as it doesn't matter if one chooses to read literally and 'believe' in the bridle's demon or decides to see it as 'only' symbolic. Certainly any fantastic story worth its salt functions on more than one level, and yours does too.

No matter how beautifully portrayed, though, the symbiotic relationship of Richard and the bridle and everything it stands for, is in my opinion still just a premise, and the story is in what occurs in the particular episode you chose to portray. It's in the interaction between Richard and Bridget (or Richard, Bridget, and the bridle), so it's not surprising I found it not entirely thought out in that.

If Bridget is just one in the succession of Richard's victims, a question I can't avoid asking is, what makes her different? Why is her story being told? What it is that allows her, and not someone else, to bring about Richard's fall?

Since Bridget would have suffered the same fate as others if not for her friend's deus ex machina appearance, your current answer to this question is, once again, "pure chance". And while it is an answer that matches well the underlying message about the inevitability of evil getting out of hands of those who believe they can control it for their ends, I still found it dramatically unsatisfying. To put it differently, while the ultimate cause of Richard's fall may be the kind of bedfellow he's chosen for himself (or the kind of virtues he's decided to cultivate), I'd have enjoyed the story more if the immediate means involved something more elaborate than a smack on the head. One way or the other, it seems, all my quibbles converge in the same scene.

For the end, I might add that I, too, wondered if the story couldn't have been told from the perspective of Richard, as obviously the more interesting of the two characters. However, as ST said, that would indeed be a different story, and one that would come with its own set of problems. In my opinion, the more light-handed approach to revision would be in focusing on Bridget and her role in the story.

And now I've certainly blathered for longer than I planned... Which is maybe just a sign that I'm still not sure I've been half successful in identifying the problems. I hope the length of my musings won't obscure the fact that I found Scold's Bridle one of the best written and most memorable stories on the site. Pleased to meet you, once again.

Best of luck,

Verdad
 
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Softtouch, Verdad, thank you both for your excellent comments. It's interesting how closely they've connected with my own thoughts on this, and even on the completely unrelated project I'm working on at the moment - where, at least, I'm still in the brainstorming/planning stage and have already realized that I need to solve the "passive lead" problem that Verdad identifies. You're both really pushing me, in the best of ways, to apply what I know and face the problems inherent in the piece.

Yes, Bridget is too damned passive, and she does bother me. I felt the same thing in re-reading it. I'm a great fan of Adam Sexton, and his advice was in my head all the way through - what makes a story a story is a central character with a dramatically performable need s/he either fulfills or fails to fulfill in a powerful and satisfying fashion. Bridget doesn't have one. We can see that she's curious about the bridle and wants to see it, but she fulfills that need by the first line of the story. What she hasn't got is something that drives her forward through the story in a way that expresses her character. She wants to get out of the bridle, but anyone would - and she doesn't get out on her own, which I think Verdad is perfectly on-target in saying is the reason we might feel that the ending is a bit of a cheat. It's not that Judy couldn't possibly have turned up then; it's that by saving Bridget, she robs the story's central character of the chance to save herself and to accomplish a serious goal in the text.

I think that's why I ended up turning to Othello - because I was rummaging around trying to find a story in which a sort of "passive victim" character ends up well-characterized and sympathetic. However, I think that the difference in POV is crucial; Desdemona isn't the lead. The focus is on Othello. Desdemona can be passive and not actively initiate or prevent her fate, but Othello can't.

This all tells me that my goals in revising Bridget's characterization need to reach down into the structure of the thing as well. I need to give her more to do. I think that's a good thing; you always want to show more, not tell more, about characters, and giving them more to do unites that goal with the plot. The question in my mind now is, how far can I push this and still have a revision rather than a complete scrap-and-rebuild? And which is the better goal?

One thing that I'm struggling with in Judy rescuing Bridget is this: there are reasons I like it. Richard sees people as objects to be exploited, and that destroys him; Bridget and Judy see people as friends to care about and support, and ultimately there's more strength in that than in Richard's short-term self-gratification. However, I see that bringing in Judy as Bridget's rescuer does leave Bridget quite passive, and Verdad, you're as right as you can be about the problems that that creates.

Still, even when I don't have a solution precisely in mind yet, I'm always happy when I know what I'm looking for. It seems to me that we've really worked out an excellent idea of that on this thread. I think I'm looking for changes to the action of the story that do the following:

- Provide Bridget with some significant goal that she can accomplish in order to effect or aid her escape from the bridle.

- Provide more depth of characterization to Bridget in order to clarify and strengthen the sense of her personal connection to the bridle and its symbolic meaning.

- Strengthen and expand Richard's characterization to develop his personal motivations and their connection to the bridle.

- Revise the scenes of assault to tighten some of the physical descriptions and re-focus the horror on the elements that Bridget finds most psychologically horrifying (and Richard finds most appealing).

- If retaining an ending in which Judy plays a significant role, moderately increase the characterization of Judy and the Judy-Bridget friendship and create a plot sequence in which the rescue is more clearly the result of a joint effort.

Does that sound like a good laundry list to the rest of you?
 
Oh my, you guys are already on to the next discussion and I haven't even gotten around to adding a few words to this one.

Sorry, I was a bit too keen and started mine a little too soon. :)

As to the laundry list I think finding a way for Bridget to escape on her own seems hard. I like the point raised about there being strength in the friendship between Judy and Bridget, which Richard lacks because he's too fixated on his 'toy'. Judy as cavalry shows how important that is.

Maybe there's some way to allow Bridget to take a more dominant role in the story again once the bridle is removed? Possibly Judy doesn't quite take Richard out completely and then it is Bridget who takes the role of saviour to Judy to finally put down Richard's evil.
 
Sorry, I was a bit too keen and started mine a little too soon. :)

As to the laundry list I think finding a way for Bridget to escape on her own seems hard. I like the point raised about there being strength in the friendship between Judy and Bridget, which Richard lacks because he's too fixated on his 'toy'. Judy as cavalry shows how important that is.

Maybe there's some way to allow Bridget to take a more dominant role in the story again once the bridle is removed? Possibly Judy doesn't quite take Richard out completely and then it is Bridget who takes the role of saviour to Judy to finally put down Richard's evil.

*nods* That's what I'm thinking - that or working in a way to make Bridget more directly instrumental in Judy getting there, whether finding a way to text her a message or actually battling Richard to get her in the door or what have you. Or, building off of yours, having the near-incapacitated Bridget jammed into a closet or some such, realizing that Judy is about to just ambushed, find the strength for one last effort to warn her. Something along those lines!
 
Hi, Hydra--hope to get to your story soon!

Shang: yes. You summarized my concerns better than I have. I'm glad I was able to shed at least a bit of light on what you already knew.

Let me just clarify that I didn't mean to suggest that Bridget has to free herself on her own. As far as horror goes, her final succumbing is most definitely horrifying and should stay for that reason alone. Not to mention all the other roles it plays, from illustrating the hopeless unfairness of the battle to providing a suspenseful fade out to the next scene. I just thought, from all the reasons I stated above, that it might be a good idea to expand the scene before the final outcome and give Bridget at least a seeming chance. Your laundry list sounds perfect to me.

Great discussion--thanks!

Verdad
 
I've got to creep in here to say that I'm a little uneasy with what I'm hearing now and maybe I want to retract my earlier insistence on more moral connection between Bridget and guilt. I understand and even support Verdad's request for more involvement of Bridget in her fate, but to make her a triumphing heroine over that fate would, I think, be a grave mistake and turn this into an entirely different story: an adventure story rather than a horror story. She's not a triumphant heroine; she's a victim, one of a long line of hapless dupes stretching from Poe's victim in The Pit & the Pendulum to Kafka's K, to the fleeing mobs in Godzilla. Victimhood is essential to horror. It's the very essence of horror, in fact.

The horror she faces is beyond human human control. Once she puts that thing on, she's dead meat and the only way to save her is to have some third party conk Richard on the head while he's faint with the filthy pleasure of his illicit ejaculation, which is just what happens. I'd beg you not to turn her into Supergirl, Shang.
 
The horror she faces is beyond human human control. Once she puts that thing on, she's dead meat and the only way to save her is to have some third party conk Richard on the head while he's faint with the filthy pleasure of his illicit ejaculation, which is just what happens. I'd beg you not to turn her into Supergirl, Shang.

No fears, Dr. M. Like Verdad, I'm certain that it's not actually freeing herself of the bridle that should be Bridget's moment of action. I think you're quite right that it would undo all of the horror of the bridle itself. I just want to find a way to Bridget's strength and determination to accomplish something useful. I think that finding a way for Bridget to help enable Judy, whether directly or indirectly, is probably the way forward.

I'm picturing (and this addresses Verdad's point on the importance of Bridget succumbing as well) some last, desperate, but probably quite small action that she's fighting to take as she collapses, whether it's unlocking Richard's door or putting one hand to a window pane so that Judy can see it or what have you. Ideally I would like it to be something that draws in that idea that Judy and Bridget win through their support of each other, but it should also show that Bridget is fighting hard to the very end, and that she manages to succeed in something.

Does that assuage your concerns? :)

Shanglan
 
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Shanglan said:
I'm picturing (and this addresses Verdad's point on the importance of Bridget succumbing as well) some last, desperate, but probably quite small action that she's fighting to take as she collapses, whether it's unlocking Richard's door or putting one hand to a window pane so that Judy can see it or what have you. Ideally I would like it to be something that draws in that idea that Judy and Bridget win through their support of each other, but it should also show that Bridget is fighting hard to the very end, and that she manages to succeed in something.
I like it.

But don't you have some *new* story that needs attention?
 
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