Showing posts with label temporality. Show all posts
Showing posts with label temporality. Show all posts

Monday, March 28, 2016

Temporality and New Media Changing the Television Game

When preparing for my final this semester, a big thought that came to mind was how exactly shows were using time. The shows that I’ve chosen so far are all on the CW and include Flash, Arrow, and DC’s Legends of Tomorrow. Now if you can’t guess, it is a focus on the superhero genre and how time seems to be a great way for these shows to fix plot holes and further narrative, along with dealing with trauma that other characters may face as well. With this in mind though, other shows must be looked at as an example for how time is used.

I first looked at Two Days Before the Day After Tomorrow, a chapter written by Jason Buel that discussed the narrative points surrounding South Park and how they deal with time. One of the first things I found myself doing is comparing the time in which my shows are shot and filmed in contrast to what he had to say about his show. One of the more interesting things that I found is that South Park is finished the day that it’s suppose to air. This is important because it allows for the crew to be able to change the show at the last minute to fit into culturally relevant situations. With all of mine, none of that happens. I didn’t necessarily look up when they film, but I do follow most of the actors on the show on twitter. The one thing I find at the beginning of the season is that they begin shooting months before the show starts to air. What’s interesting though is with each show, they only shoot so many episodes and then take a break. As the show begins to air they begin to shoot more. It is in this manner that I believe that these shows may be taking a play from South Park’s book.

I believe a big difference that is happening between the two shows and the time it takes them to have a finished project isn’t so much about current events. With South Park, the need to be relevant puts them on a last minute schedule. With CW’s lineup however, there shows don’t play into our modern culture. They all exist within the DC universe, which allows them to stick to ideas and plays from the comics. Instead, I believe the filming and releasing of so many episodes is so that the writers have a chance to address fan issues. One of the common things I have found in the start of my research is that fans love to pick apart the series for flaws, especially temporal ones. There was a couple times within the Flash and Arrow, where their timelines were supposed to match up and run together perfectly. However, there are critics and fans alike that have picked apart where these shows don’t run together perfectly. The solution, which occurred several episodes later was simple. The writers had The Flash run back in time to change a single event. By doing so, he also alters the entire timeline of the universe. I believe that the writers are intentionally putting a delay on fully using their script and having it filmed until they know there is no way to poke holes into the plot.

In this same regard, it seems as though the internet is changing the way things are being done with television shows. In Lucy Bennet’s article “Lost in Time” she discusses how the narrative of Lost is one big time labyrinth, one that is made for fans to interact with and act even as detectives to solve the shows mysteries. This interactive experience has led to many writers of television shows to focus on how they write and create their shows. Again, the same can be found in the shows I’m studying. With Lost, there was a forum created and even a wiki for fans to interact with to watch the show. As far as I know, there is no element of interaction made for the CW’s lineup, but much can be found on blogging sites and even Facebook. The writers of the show Supernatural have a tumblr. They follow what their fans say and write and even take into account some of the fan fiction they create. One of the big things that fans have done is turned two of the main characters, Castiel and Dean, into a love item. Since the birth of what fans call “Destiel” the writers have poked fun at this “love affair” of the two. They’ve had meta episodes where the two characters seem as though they could be falling for each other, only for everything to become a farce at the end of the episode. The internet has begun to change how shows are watched and created.

With both the article on South Park and Lost, it felt as though the writers were targeting the fact that these showrunners want to be able to engage their audience. With social media now being the biggest way to do so, they have no problems reaching them. Many of the actors even do social media chats and live tweeting during the episodes to interact with fans. One actor, Stephen Amell of Arrow, has even gone so far as to give hints to what people can expect on the show. He plays with the idea of a cliffhanger, which was again brought up in both articles, to enhance the viewing for the reader during his facebook video sessions.

Monday, March 21, 2016

A Focus on Time and Trauma in Sci-Fi Television

               In his essay "Temporality and Trauma in American Sci-Fi Television," Aris Mousoutzanis notes that the use of temporality and trauma in television functions in a threefold way to emphasize not only the work that is using the temporal play/motif but also American television in general. His first point is that "structural equivalences between trauma and new media, whose ability to challenge conventional perceptions of time and space has been seen as similar to the structure of traumatic temporality" (97). In other words, Mousoutzanis is stating that like traumatic events' effects on the human mind, temporal play and trauma affect our understanding and the wavering, somewhat scattered events and structure within contemporary american television. I feel out of all three points he makes, this one is the most rigid and understandable, one that stands out and is scientifically accurate (and studied as such) in the understanding of trauma and the role it plays in the mind of any person. Dr. Robert Stolorow says it well in his post on Psychology Today: "Time does not heal the wounds of trauma... trauma devastatingly disrupts the ordinary linearity and unity of our experience of time, our sense of stretching-along from the past to an open future" ("Trauma and the Hourglass of Time"). In particular, our understanding of time, especially time in relation to our own lives, is often a long, "ordinary linearity" of "same stuff, different day" routines from birth to death. This linearity, however, is broken up and marred by those out of the ordinary, unique events that change our lives in dramatic ways (trauma). The major traumas in our lives often stick out sorely among the linearity of our lives, not unlike the nature of time and temporality in television. 
               One such example of this is the television show 24, which Mousoutzanis notes. In the first season, Jack Bauer (Kiefer Sutherland) becomes caught up in a plot to assassinate the fictional senator David Palmer, with each episode representing 1-hour segments of the same day in linear order following this main plot. However, throughout the main plot, multiple subplots begin appearing, including a mole in the agency, personal conflicts among Jack's family as well as David's marriage, professional conflicts (often arising from personal conflict) with Jack and the other members of his agency, and the kidnapping of Jack's wife and daughter. Although all of these subplots revolve around the main plot, each represents some form of trauma or dramatic shift in the narrative as a whole, all of which are culminating the final twist of the first season--the biggest trauma of them all. As the season concludes, (SPOILER ALERT) Jack is searching for his wife (who was kidnapped and held captive for over half the season), only to finally find her in a locked room, passed away from a gunshot wound.
               One thing that is so important and striking about this is the use of trauma in the narrative, both for the story and for the viewer. Most television series, even dramas focused on crime, death, and trauma, keep the characters that were introduced in the first season for longer than the first season at the very minimum (although [MORE SPOILERS] House of Cards makes a close call with this). Not only that, but oftentimes even minor characters (at least the good guys) aren't killed off in the first season, either (I've noticed them more often to be replaced rather than killed, such as in CSI or Criminal Minds). The writers' choice to kill Teri Bauer was impressive, from a television standpoint, but is also questioned by the fact there is an alternate ending in which she survives (albeit never aired that way originally). Going further, it is also important as a point in episodic narrative and trauma. The show, having Bauer searching for his wife for hours and hours (episode by episode, week by week for the viewers watching the original airing), concludes its season finale only to have Jack (and the audience) find Teri does not survive. The finale ends with the clock striking midnight, the start of a new day (and end of the old), with Jack holding Teri in his arms and the screen fades to black. For the audience, narratively, this is a major turning point as they are building their anticipations and anxiety up, hoping Jack will find a way to save the day. When the screen fades to black and seeing his failure on screen, the viewer is left with the trauma of what just happened with no way to express their discomfort, their hate, or their guilt with how they've felt about the show. Because social media wasn't booming yet (the show originally began in 2001, before Myspace in 2003, Facebook in 2004, and Twitter in 2006), viewers had no recourse for that trauma other than those who also viewed the show and were just as invested in the characters as they were. Although it was a "shared trauma" among viewers, there was little way to express it yet, so viewers were left to absorbing the traumatic event not unlike the events that happen(ed) in their own lives. And lastly, this goes directly with what Stolorow notes, that "trauma devastatingly disrupts the ordinary linearity and unity of our experience of time." The viewer has seen Jack Bauer routinely come to the rescue and find and fight his way out of every situation, but is struck down when he cannot save his wife. Stolorow continue, "Experiences of emotional trauma become freeze-framed into an eternal present in which we remain forever trapped." Much like what happens on an episode of a television show, the trauma the viewer experiences with characters they feel emotionally attached or invested in remains with the viewer long after the episode (or show) has ended, often associating itself with a period in one's own life where trauma of their own has occurred. Like the finale, the moment is now freeze-framed in the viewer's life in a way that cannot be removed or otherwise fixed or "made better;" the characters, episode, and show cannot change to reduce grief, much like trauma in our own life cannot be changed once it occurs.
Further in the essay, Mousoutzanis likens the use of temporality and trauma to that of Freud's essay Beyond the Pleasure Principal, noting specifically that it "[invokes] a metaphor of the human psyche as an amoeba-like organism coated with a 'protective shielding' that is pierced by an overwhelming incident" (104). He also quotes Žižek in reference to narratives that invoke a response not unlike post-9/11 trauma, stating, "We wanted to see it again and again; the same shots were repeated ad nauseam" (105). This idea, adapted to trauma in television programs, is not unlike Freud's idea of repetition compulsion. Freud describes our understanding and way of dealing with trauma in terms of repetitive exposure to trauma. Although the trauma continues to hurt or otherwise pierce our "linearity," as described previously, we continue to expose ourselves to repeated trauma in an attempt to overcome or otherwise facilitate our understanding of the trauma. This is not unlike the trauma that is involved and incorporated heavily into American television series year after year. Particularly in reference to post-9/11 narratives, Mousoutzanis notes television shows that either begin with or incorporate major traumas of plane crashes or terrorism (of varying types and degrees) such as Lost (which revolves entirely around a plane crash stranding people on an island) or the pilot to Fringe (both noted in his essay). Although not a terrorist incident, Lost particularly invokes the repetition of trauma of 9/11, having premiered in 2004, just three years after the attack (and merely 11 days after the anniversary that year). The pilot to Fringe begins with a plane flying through an electrical storm. The plane lands safely, albeit invoking memories of the attacks when all the passengers begin to spread a lethal contagion while in flight (reminiscent of bioterrorism). And Fringe isn't alone in its genre; other dramas, particularly crime dramas, focus heavily on the use and reuse of traumatic events throughout, drawing the viewer in with devastating or gripping scenarios of good and evil, life and death. Shows like CSI, Criminal Minds, NCIS, and other similar series (notice a pattern?) routinely use realistic depictions of crime in an attempt to impact the viewer with that same trauma. The viewer knows the show is real but still allows themselves to be sucked into the dangers the characters are put in and the events that occur within the shows. The events that occur are typically irrelevant between episodes but serve as that break from the linearity of the characters' storylines and development throughout. Oftentimes, the effects of trauma on the viewer may mirror the effects of trauma that happens to the characters within the show; but rather than being overwhelmed by the trauma they are watching, the viewer delves deeper and deeper, watching episode by episode week by week (or hour by hour, in the case of Netflix binging). They may be affected by the trauma, but they continue watching regardless. We tell ourselves that the show is fun or interesting, but Freud may tell us instead that we're doing so as a means to relive, understand, or overcome our trauma.

Generational Visits from The Goon Squad


A Visit From the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan plays out to be a visit not from particular people, but more from several generations at once. Within her novel, the reader gets to see different characters in different areas of their lives. Never once does the reader get the same narrative perspective from the same character, each one tells a different story from different times in their lives. Where the connection comes into play isn’t with a chronological order but rather how different lives are touched by different people. These people’s stories come and go at different times, we see different characters at different moments in their lives, and Egan does a great job of giving the reader a way to reflect on their own lives.

One of the characters that comes into play, and seems to be the centerfold of this narrative is Bennie Salazar. Bennie’s life is seen from different moments in time and he tends to tether all of the characters back to him in some way, shape, or form, no matter where the narrative may be at. Take for example the story of Lou. When we finally get to a point in time with just Lou, a safari in Africa, there are still tethers back to Bennie. Lou is introduced to the novel through his young girlfriend Jocelyn. Jocelyn is connected to Bennie as one of the punk rock kids of the 70’s and 80’s. The novel works as a web, with the center of it being Bennie’s life. No matter where a character is at in their storyline, in some way or form they have a connection to Bennie.


With this idea in mind, the phrase “time's a goon” could be a direct reference to Bennie himself, after all, if the reader sees the original group of friends connected to Bennie in the beginning as the “Goon Squad” referenced in the title, then it’s Bennie’s squad that it is referring to. Again, Bennie seems to be around, even if it’s just in spirit, for every narrative. When Lou’s story is told of his time on safari in Africa, the reader knows the age and what’s going on with Bennie. In an earlier chapter, the reader gets a view into Lou’s apartment. In there, the girl’s see a photo from the safari and given a time when it takes place. From there, the reader can figure out just when and where the rest of the crew is at. The same goes for other characters moving through the novel. When looking at Dolly’s story, she references when things went downhill for her, in particular her party. She gives a specific time and date, and also makes references to where the actress Kitty is at in her life. Both these instances have a direct tie back to Bennie. Bennie’s wife use to work for Dolly and his brother-in-law was the one that sexually assaulted Kitty. Both these instances in time allow for the reader to figure out where in time Bennie is again. Even if it wasn’t meant intentionally, Bennie is the central figure of the novel, the clock that the reader can use to put time in a chronological order for themselves.

Within this novel as well, Egan allows for the reader to see several generations at once and even makes a prediction of what is to come of future generations. We see the punk rock era and how young kids acted during the time. As the novel periodically moves forward, the reader gets glimpses of other generations. The character of Sasha, Drew, and Rob all show what the generation after them was like. They’re the younger group that follows after Bennie and his squad. By having them going through time in their important areas, Egan allows for the reader to see the effects of the older generation on the young. Again this is apparent with the character of LuLu. With her generation, and an eventual prediction of another baby boom in the future, things once again have changed. Unlike Bennie and his group, who were all about music, drugs, and hard living, LuLu’s group has significantly changed. This group, commentated on by Alex, doesn’t swear. They group up with the futuristic technology affecting their lives and have learned to live with it. In every sense, their generation has rejected the style of living that was seen by them growing up. Finally, we also get a look at the generation to come through Alex’s daughter Cara-Ann. With her generation, and many young other kids, growing up in a technology filled world, they seem to have the most control over what is popular and what happens. The tablets everyone carries is often used by children. They help influence what music is bought, what shows up on screen, and even the type of language that is going to be used in the future. Egan seems to even hint at the dumbing down of society based on way messaging works on these systems.

One other time related theme that was noticed is how the destruction of the past leads to a destruction of the future. In the beginning and through most of the novel, it feels as though destructive life tendencies play a major role not only on characters but the world itself. There seems to be a blatant disregard for the planet and people that would be considered “good” or “bad”. Take for example the story that Dolly is a part of. For her, she has lost everything is on the edge of being broke. Due to this, she takes a public relations job trying to make a dictator running a genocide to look good in public light. Despite the fact that she knows this is the wrong thing to do, it isn’t until Kitty is taken captive by the general that she finally decides it’s the wrong course of action. Again the commentary can be seen in Scotty’s chapter, when he is fishing in the river. He talks about how bad it’s polluted but doesn’t care. He goes and fishes everyday and even eats the fish, saying that the river isn’t as polluted as people believe. The blatant disregard that he has, and the others, leaves a strong comment on our current world. Finally, towards the end of the novel, we see where the world is at in regards to the destruction and pollution taking place. We have Sasha’s daughter talking about the desert she lives in. She goes on a walk with her father and thinks about how the golf courses were now all dried up and how lawns were gone. In their place is plenty of solar panels, be she notes, quite cleverly, that they really don’t make a difference and things are too far gone. Again we see this commentary with Alex. He makes subtle hints at the destruction of the world. How him and his family, among many others, go to a wall to peer at the sunset before it disappears. He also talks about how it’s winter in New York and the concert Scotty is playing is outdoors. He mentions how it’s a beautiful day, eighty-nine degrees, and also how the sun is setting earlier and earlier. Egan uses her play on time to show the damage that past generations have done on the future of other generations.


Monday, February 29, 2016

Heavy Boots and Heavy Hearts: How History Repeats Itself and How Time Does Not Always Heal


In Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer, he shows that trauma, and it’s various forms, affect people through both time and situations. To start with, the main character, Oskar, is going through the most recent trauma that people will remember: 9/11. Oskar, an 8 year old boy, loses his father during the attacks that took place in New York. The feelings directed towards him are heart-felt and tear jerking throughout the novel. He struggles with understanding what happened and why it happened to his father. The novel shifts a lot between Oskar, the letters his grandfather wrote to his father, and his grandmother. The plays with time are interesting, since we get a look at the trauma Oskar is going through, the trauma his grandfather experienced in Dresden during WWII, and the his grandmother’s in WWII and the present. The different time periods call on the fact that despite when in time someone lives in, there will always be trauma in someone’s life.


One of the first things I noticed, and found interesting, were the nods that were given to Slaughterhouse-Five. One of the big things that stood out was the repetition that of words that Oskar uses. Whenever he is baffled by something he says “What the.” If he is self-conscious or hurt, he says “Anyways.” The anyways being used felt the same as when Billy Pilgrim would say “So it goes.” These phrases, used continuously through both novels is a means in which the characters try to escape the trauma they experienced. By having a word or phrase that is dismissive of the situation at hand takes away from the trauma they’re experiencing. It helps the reader sympathize with the fact that these are leaving scars, or in Oskar’s case bruises, on our characters and they have to find a way to push through them.


Going back to the idea that trauma goes through most of time and is experienced by everyone, one of the characters that shows one aspect is Oskar’s Grandpa. His grandfather loses his ability to speak, so much so that he has to have “yes” and “no” tattooed on his hand. He’s forced to carry empty books with him in order to communicate. And who can blame him? He loses not only the love of his life in the Dresden bombings, but also his unborn child and family. He’s forced to murder innocent animals at the zoo to keep them from attacking people. He sees the horror of the fire that was unleashed on them and is forced to live on as a witness. In this regards, it makes sense that he can no longer speak; if he were, he’d have to share these things and that pain is too much to bear. When he finally gets together and marries Oskar’s grandmother, she too, is scarred. Instead of losing her voice though, she ends up needing rules with him in order to live a “normal” life. The house has “nothing” and “something” zones, areas in which they can escape when they need to. Oskar’s grandpa accepts these things, and lives with them until it’s too much to bare. He leaves her and doesn’t come back until he loses the son he never met. He tries to get close to Oskar but eventually leaves that idea as well. The trauma he experienced has left him broken, he can no longer get close in fear of losing the others again.


Within the family is also the devastation that Oskar’s grandma has experienced. Her final revelation is that Oskar needs to say that he loves someone, no matter how trivial it may be. However, throughout the novel, she warns in her letters that he must not love anything as much as she loves him. This warning rings true not just because of the loss of her son during the terrorist attacks, but because of WWII and the loss of her family, and the loss of her husband. For her, her trauma is the constant loss of things she loves through time. She loses her family to the fire bombings in Dresden and regrets not being able to tell her family how much she loves them. She can’t remember the last thing her father said to her. She meant to tell her sister how much she loved her the night before she died and didn’t. She constantly talks about her relationship with his grandfather, and how they could never find a way to say they love each other. Her trauma isn’t so much of what she’s seen but what she’s experienced. She loses everyone she loves, which instills fear in her of losing Oskar. In one scene in the novel, Oskar hides from her in the park and sets her in a panic. He follows her from a distance watching her, enjoying the love she emits for him by searching frantically for him. When she finally gives up and heads home, he races ahead and tries to joke with her at her apartment, but fails. She is forced back into the traumas of her past, forced to live with the idea that she lost yet another person she truly loves.


Oskar himself and his journey to meet others is filled with different traumas throughout other characters lives, as well as his own. Despite the fact that he lost his father, he goes on a quest to try and find out why his Dad had a key to a lockbox. Each person he meets, however, seems to be dealing with their own problems. Abigail Black, for example, is going through a messy part of her marriage, which eventually leads to divorce. Mr. Black that lived above Oskar has given up on the world. He chose travelling and war over his wife. When he returned, he only had a few months with her before he passed away. Despite this, and others that Oskar encounters, he is able to help them overcome their trauma or at least bring some joy into their life. The irony is not loss on this situation though. As Oskar helps these people, he is still weighed down, or as he says “has heavy boots” by their sadness. He deals with his sadness by trying to cheering them up and making them happy. By doing so, he takes on their burdens, whether or not these characters realize it.

Throughout the novel, it shows the reader that trauma not only exists through various times in people’s lives, but also different ways it affects them. Foer does a great job at executing this example by having the letters Oskar’s grandparents write for him available to the reader. Each one shows the extent of damage they have and the future it may present for Oskar. Despite his coping, or somewhat lack of, the reader is left to question how Oskar will fair down the road? Will he be like his grandfather and lose his voice? Will he be wary of love like his grandmother? The novel shows the breakdowns people have and various ways of coping over time, and has the reader think about the future. And isn’t that something everyone should prepare for?

Monday, February 15, 2016

The Struggles With Life After Life

When reading Kate Atkinson’s Life After Life, I found myself questioning whether or not the way the narrative reads works well for a reader. The aspect that she plays with, in a sense reincarnation, is a fascinating form to take on in a narrative. However, when reading the novel, several questions left me wondering how well this form of reincarnation worked and whether or not it is suited better for a different mode to be played out in. For example, when reading this novel, I was instantly reminded of an episode from the show Community entitled Remedial Chaos Theory. Within the episode, the character of Abed rolls a dice to decide who would answer the door and get the pizza. The episode then repeats itself around the dice roll, playing different scenarios of what would have happened if a different character was selected to go and get the pizza. This novel reminded exactly of that episode. In addition, the novel also reminded me of the pick your own storyline books that were popular. Within these books, the reader would get an interactive choice where they could follow specific storylines with a character to help choose their fate. Although Atkinson did not allow for the reader to do this in her novel, it felt close to the same kind of set up. Whenever Ursula would die, a new storyline would unfold for the reader to read and enjoy.


One of the problems I discovered myself having as a reader, at both the start of the novel and then throughout, was trying to push aside the notion of knowing the main character would inevitably die at some point. On more than one occasion I found myself flipping a few pages ahead to see if one the chapter titles were going to show up soon. At first I was really interested in the ways the author would have Ursula die. Would it be in a fire? Childbirth again? Something to do with the war? All these questions floated around in my head and it did lead to some suspenseful moments for myself. The problem I found, however, was I was still expecting death whenever a chapter would eventually come to an end. Due to this, as a reader, it was often challenging to try and focus more on what was happening in the story instead of letting the mind wander to what the next reason may be for Ursula’s untimely demise.


Another issue I was forced to wrap my head around was the idea of reincarnation within the book. The novel itself hints at reincarnation as the reason Ursula was continuously dying and then being reborn with hidden knowledge of the future that she didn’t understand. The problem that I was faced with was more the fact that this didn’t line up with the Buddhist tradition of reincarnation. Within the context of the religion, reincarnation doesn’t focus on a sole person being reborn over and over again within the same life. When a person passes away, they reincarnate into a different being based on the life that they lived before. Atkinson does a good job of laying out the foundation of reincarnation through her character of Dr. Kellett, who explains this belief to Ursula. The thought that then comes to mind is whether or not this is the belief that Atkinson has about reincarnation. It would make sense since she does reference several religions throughout the novel (Catholicism, Anglican, Buddhist, Judaism) and it feels as though her own struggles with beliefs, whether or not she had them, could have leaked into this novel as well.


Within the construct of the play on time that she does in the novel, a final issue that was taken was the simple question: why should I care? By the end of the novel, I was more interested in the play on time throughout the book than I was with the main character herself. It felt as though no matter what Ursula did or fixed, in the end it didn’t matter. Even when she finally lived to an old age and passed away, she was reborn, and everything in that story no longer mattered. Granted, it did make sense to tell the story, or how else would Ursula know the things that she did, but it still left me with the feeling that overall the story told was diminished. Even with her knowledge of Hitler, she was unable to kill him. She was able to avoid being raped, going through a horrible abortion, and eventually being killed by an abusive husband, but did it matter? The second she died in that timeline, the new one would start and she could avoid the dangers that would come her way.


This novel felt like it was trying to convey a single message. The first idea comes from Stephen King’s novel 11/22/63 with the idea that the past does not want to be changed. Despite Ursula’s knowledge of World War II and her different attempts to change the outcome for herself and the world, she is unable to do so. Ursula seemed destined to be a lonely character, with death being her only love. Towards the end of the novel she even says that going into the darkness must be what true love feels like. No matter which live she lives in any story she never properly falls in love with a man. In one occasion she does get married, but to an abusive husband. In another, she marries a german man and gets stuck in Germany. She is even relieved when her husband dies and does the best she can to try and save her daughter. In the end, it felt as though Atkinson wanted the reader to understand that even with an insight to the future, the past does not want to be changed.

Overall, despite the grievances filed above, the book was an enjoyable read. The focus on the constant changing story of Ursula made me continue to read the novel all the way through. The content, based around an English family during World War I and World War II was an interesting area to focus a novel around and one that I had yet to see before. As stated though, it was difficult to read and not think about when/how Ursula would die again. The reminders of reincarnation left me wondering whether or not Atkinson wanted me to believe the story was based around the very idea. Finally, despite the area in which the plot takes place, the question still remained on whether or not any reader should care what happens to Ursula in the present if the story will change as soon as she dies.