i’ve been thinking about why exactly i’m so attached to the story of icarus, the boy who’s been used again and again to teach us a lesson about hubris; the boy we were told as disobedient, as prideful, as reckless, as ignorant; the boy we’ve been warned to never follow, as if we did, we would end up burning our own wings and drowning in the sea along with him. i looked at the various texts and translations about his story, searching over and over for what it was that made me so drawn to it.
and then it hit me: icarus was told to not fly too high, nor to fly too low. he was told to remain in the middle, to follow his father’s path of flight—because daedalus knew of what it was like out there, of how cruel the world can be to dreamers, and he wanted his son to be wary of it. it reminded me of how parents are like nowadays (or, really, are like since the beginning of time): of how they say “dream big, but not too big”; of how they tell children to not get their hopes up too high; of how they remind their child to be realistic; of how they warn and they caution and they forcefully plant our feet on the ground and make sure our roots grow thick enough beneath it to hold us firmly down.
it’s understandable, if not twisted, the way they’re protecting us. because while it’s true, most of the time it leads to crushed dreams, dampened hopes, watered down ideas. it leads to the acceptance of things as it is, and not of things as they could be; it steals our idealism and turns it into doubt, into disbelief, into hopelessness.
maybe that’s why i’m very fond of icarus; because the thought of having this boy reach for the sky, for the sun, for the exhilaration of his freedom by going through such extreme lengths tells me a story of hope, not hubris. it tells me the story of a boy who was willing to risk everything for what he desperately wanted, it tells me the story of a boy who had the nerve to grasp at the liberation he craved, it tells me the story of a boy who loved so much he let himself be consumed by its violent, brutal wake.
and if icarus dared enough to chase after his dream, then let me burn along with him.
Everybody in the world has a superpower that compliments their soulmates superpower. When together, both their powers increase in strength exponentially. You have the most useless power ever, when one day……
But what if Anakin isn’t ignoring Kylo Ren? What if that great pull Kylo feels towards the Light is Anakin Skywalker desperately trying to save his grandson from his own fate, the way his wife and son tried to save him?
what if Anakin is literally constantly standing behind Kylo Ren, sputtering with ghostly frustration, going, “No! No! No! Do not do that! Do NOT do that! oh for fuck’s sake.”
This is almost certainly what is actually happening.
“Ben if you skewer my son-in-law with that lightsaber then SO HELP ME”
“Ben Solo your mother is blaming me for this, get your ass home and apologize now or I swear-”
And Yoda and Obi-wan are watching, shaking their heads. “Now you know how we felt,” Obi-wan says.
Yoda agrees: “A bitch, karma is.”
I love this. So many people can just totally see Anakin trying to strangle Ben from the afterlife.
