Season 5
Episode 7
FOOL FOR LOVE: Sympathy
for The Devil
by Spring Summers – 18-Apr-04
Self-construction
– A good defense – A strong offense
– Spike & Nothingness – Death
wishes – Buffy & Somebody – Riley
– Gender dynamics – Foreshadowing for
Buffy – Foreshadowing for Spike – Spike & Buffy – Spicy Extras for
James Marsters fans -
In a Season that focuses on identity,
this particular episode features the piece-by-piece manufacture of our very own
Spike. He acquires all the trappings
right in front of our eyes: his name,
his accent, his Slayer obsession, his scar, his reputation, his hair, his
sneer, his coat. Five, Six, Seven, Eight! Who do we appreciate? With that fascinating formation
front-and-center, Fool For Love examines
both the very illusory, and the very real, nature of the power of
self-creation.
Let’s start at the
beginning, the very, very beginning:
Buffy is fighting a vampire who looks like a refugee from an Eighties
Hair Band. She is making jokes about his
smell. She is obviously looking forward
to the sure-thing; he’s already dust beneath her feet. Except that he’s not. It seems our hygiene-challenged vampire has
other ideas.
Lesson the first: A Slayer must always reach for her weapon.
In a world full of
impersonal forces, all happy to crush you and your best-laid plans at every
turn, it’s important not to become complacent or arrogant on your way to your
desired destination.
SPIKE: “The problem with you Summers, is you’ve
gotten so good, you’re starting to think you’re immortal.”
You have to have
that weapon at the ready. Your enemies
have already got theirs. Emphasizing the
role of the external in our self-construction are the many images of people
whose lives are inalterably changed (or ended) by opportunistic forces beyond
their control:
Reach for your
weapon, keep it by your side, stay ever-vigilant:
There’s always
something, just waiting to zap you. You can’t
be always safe - the best you can be is always prepared. Further underlining the random and
uncontainable nature of our fates is the frequent use of sarcasm, outright
lies, and false predictions – we hear them over and over, and we note how very
little our own words can mean. Here are
a few examples among many:
·
Sarcasm:
RILEY: “I like a girl who can
play a few sets of tennis with a major stab wound.” And ANGEL:
“Perhaps it’s my advancing years that make me so forgetful.”
·
Lies: RILEY:
“We’ll come back at daybreak when they’re asleep and we’re better armed.” And SPIKE:
“I had to get myself a gang.”
·
False
predictions: BUFFY:
“It wouldn’t be you, Spike. It
would never be you.” And JOYCE: “I’m going to be fine.”
WILLIAM (about his
poems): “If they’re no good, they’re
only words. But the feeling behind
them – I love you, Cecily.”
So what are we
then, flames flickering helplessly in the storm? Our words, our efforts, our dreams – are they
meaningless, lost forever with each passing gale? Are we defenseless, low hanging fruit? Are we no different than those tiny
Lesson the second: Ask the right questions.
It isn’t just
about the way external forces shape you.
You aren’t a candle in the wind: The
answers you receive are all about the questions you ask. Listen to the dialogue in this episode, and
take note of the constant use of questions, and how often people are “asking
for it.” (“Give it to me good, Buffy.”) Everyone is asking questions, and the words
“question” and “ask” are used repeatedly.
We watch people as powerless victims, but we also watch them determine
their own fates by asking for what they receive. And of all the moments that grab me in this
episode, this is the one that grabs me by the throat:
SPIKE: “ . . . since I agreed to your little
proposition, we can do this my way. Wings.”
BUFFY:
“What?”
SPIKE: “Spicy buffalo wings. Order me up a plate. I’m feelin’ peckish.”
Rewind. Watch again:
SPIKE:
“ . . . since I agreed to your little proposition, we can do this my way. Wings.”
Freeze it right
there. “Wings.”
Spike & Buffy
are in The Bronze, sitting – of course - by the stairs. Bring me up, take me down. Spike is, so very resolutely, asking Buffy
for wings. Wings. Wings!
Of all things. She’s in a bit too
much pain to handle his request, at the moment.
But oh, Spike. Don’t you dare give
up on that girl. She’ll get to feeling
better, someday. And you never know when
a wish might come true:
RILEY: “OK.
Just ditch the chips and watch my back.”
Done!
With a very slight delay, but done.
SNOBBY
PARTYGOER (about William’s poetry): “I’d
rather have a railroad spike through my head than listen to that awful stuff.”
Done! Done, with a bit of a delay, I suspect, but
still before he even has a chance to blither, “But I didn’t mean it literally!”
DRUSILLA: “I see what you want. Something glowing and glistening. Something – effulgent. Do you want it?
WILLIAM: “Oh, yes!
God, yes.”
Done! Done before he has a chance to think twice.
SPIKE
(to Angel): “You know what I prefer to
being hunted? Getting caught.”
Done! Years later, but still done before he really
knows what’s happening; done before he begins to understand where it will lead
him. Spike gets caught good and proper –
trapped by The Initiative, enchanted by Buffy, housebroken by the other side.
SPIKE: “Sooner or later, you’re gonna want it. And the second – the second that happens, you
know I’ll be there. I’ll slip in. Have myself a real good day.”
Done!
Yes, she’s gonna want it, and yes, he’ll slip right in.
So, consciously or
unconsciously, within this chaotic world, where our words can mean less than
nothing, we see that they can also mean everything. We are the primary sculptors of our own fates. We can create the good man, or the vicious monster.
We can’t always
keep the wolves from entering, but what we do before their assault to prepare,
what we do during their invasion to fight, and what we do afterward to recover,
is still up to us. In this episode we
are looking at both Lesson 1 & Lesson 2:
We are looking at both the need for an ever-vigilant defense, and the
need for a very precise offense.
So – the experienced Spike is preaching
truths to young Buffy and he seems to have built himself quite a strong and firm
identity. Becoming a vampire was a profound
and powerful experience he tells Buffy.
He started making his own rules.
Yes, in the context of his demon-existence, he seems to have found
himself; he has it all together. But
here’s the secret: It is just a
seeming. Look at these images:
And so we see the
truth: William hasn’t changed a bit, not
really. Spike is still as unformed and
vulnerable to others as he was the day he died.
Stymied by that death, by his soulless and undead state, Spike has
experienced no real emotional growth. As
the many images and references to hiding suggest, he’s only engaging in a
vampire-related cover-up. William, our
good man, might have grown after his encounter with Cecily. Despite his immature shyness and insecurities,
and his childishly idealized view of himself and his world, he exhibits
tremendous courage: He is brave enough
to be himself, to let himself feel love and pain, to speak the truth, and to
grieve. In his understanding that he is
a “bad poet,” he also shows us an incipient ability to know and see himself
clearly. After the tears, after taking
out his frustration on his poor belittled poem, William might have learned a
painful lesson, and moved forward. But
he encountered Dru instead.
So for Spike,
after all this time, the inks are still wet; his poem is still unfinished. He has yet to find himself and establish
himself; he has no firm or independent identity. He is nothing, no one. “You’re nothing to me William.” He dances to the rhythms of others. “The thing about the dance is, you never get
to stop.”
Listen for the
many mentions of the words “fault” and “blame,” along with the scenes of Spike
(and others) being influenced by family and friends. These images emphasize they way we can allow
others to determine our actions and decisions, who we are and what we will be –
and in turning over responsibility, we also turn over control.
But ultimately,
that’s you, deciding to let someone else take over. That’s you, telling Dru that you want
it. Look around you. The person you are, the life you have built
for yourself, is ultimately all about you.
Though battered and often twisted mightily by outside forces, you are
always, at your core, a construct of your deepest desires:
SPIKE: “Now you see, that’s the secret: Not the punch you didn’t throw or the kicks
you didn’t land. She merely wanted it.”
Others can attempt
to help or hinder you in the journey toward true self-discovery and
establishment. But always, you live your
own vision of a perfect life, realized by your imperfect self, in an imperfect
world. That’s the secret: Don’t look at who you are, what you are, and
where you are, and cry about how far it is from what you really want. Understand that, no matter how bizarre it
might seem to you, the who, what, and where of your present condition is all
about what you really want.
Does Buffy want death? In
the subway car, Spike, while making his underground journey at breakneck speed,
is ruthless, fearless, smart, strong and absolutely deadly. Like Buffy, The Subway Slayer has ties to the
world, and no doubt, a life-wish – i.e., a desire for the sort of expiration
date you might find on a bag of Cheetos.
But also like Buffy, she’s The Slayer.
Death is her art; she makes it with her hands, day after day. And after awhile, as it does for anyone in a
life and death profession (“that’s what the police are for!”), the exposure to the
dark and the ugly begins to take its toll:
SPIKE: “Death is on your heels, baby, and sooner or
later, it’s gonna catch you. And part of
you wants it. Not only to stop the fear and
uncertainty, but because you’re a little bit in love with it.”
Spike goes on to tell her that every Slayer has a death wish. The look on Buffy’s face tells us that he has
struck a nerve. Death is Spike and Spike
is Death and Sex is Spike and Spike is Sex and Death is so damned Sexy. Buffy is just a little bit in love with it,
and with him:
SPIKE: “Come
on. I can feel it, Slayer. You know you want to dance.”
BUFFY: “Say
it’s true. Say I do want to. It wouldn’t be you, Spike. It would never be you.”
Unlike William
with Dru’s offer, Buffy is
attracted but she finds the strength to say no to Spike’s offer. Like William, her mother is expecting her. The next time we see Buffy, we learn she’s
been helping mom with a grocery list.
And when Buffy notices Joyce packing an overnight bag, Joyce makes these
remarks:
JOYCE: Oh, I was hoping to put this off, but - you
know the nothing that I’ve been dealing with the last couple of weeks? It might not be nothing.” (CECILY:
“You’re nothing to me, William.” BUFFY & CECILY, both: “You’re beneath me.”)
JOYCE
(later in the same conversation): “It’s
only one night. And they say even if
there is something, it’s still very early, if they didn’t see it before. I’m going to be fine.” (No. That nothing is death, come to find you in
your own backyard. A small but deadly
tumor is growing inside Joyce’s brain.)
And for Buffy
& Spike, this is not “only one night,” it’s THE night. It is THE night that changes everything. The “nothing” Buffy’s been dealing with? It might not be nothing. A small bit of Spike is inside Buffy’s heart
- she is just a little bit in love with him - and it is much too late in the
day, for a reprieve. It’s not nothing. It’s life, it’s death, it’s love, it’s hate. It’s light and it’s darkness. It’s sex.
But it is not nothing.
Nothing. It’s a word Spike has
used to describe himself (in Lovers Walk:
“I’m nothing without her!”) and others
have used it since, to describe him.
“No one is narrating on an empty stomach, here,” says
Spike to Buffy – right before he begins narrating on an empty stomach.
“I didn’t know she was seeing somebody,” says the
Chaos Demon, to Spike, about Dru. Of
course, that’s the thing about Dru; that’s the thing that seduced William
utterly: She looked at him, and she saw
somebody.
It’s what both human and vampire Spike want more than anything – to be
seen, to receive external validation of the self, to establish an identity in
such a way that his perfect inner vision of himself matches his outer manifestation
in the world.
WILLIAM (to Cecily): “All I ask is that you see me . . .”
He struggles, as we all struggle, to make his words and actions match
the feelings behind them – and vice-versa.
But despite the dramatic self-creation we witness, Spike’s continued and
essential lack of his own independent identity is emphasized in the references
to him as nothing, and the chasm between his view of himself, and the way
others view him. (CECILY: “I do see you. That’s the problem.”)
Who else is having
a few confidence problems? I’d say, Riley. Riley seems in such desperate need of
affirmation of his worth, so driven to prove himself that he makes the risky,
melodramatic, and unnecessary move of stomping into a crypt full of vampires
all alone, and blowing it up with a grenade.
Who’s the man?
Last episode we saw Riley hanging out at Willie’s bar, flirting with a vampire. What’s good for the gander is good for the
goose, I guess, because this week, it’s Buffy’s turn. Buffy & Spike’s sizzling encounter at The
Bronze is at the center of this episode, but
they are satellited by two foursomes.
One is from long ago: Angel,
Spike, Darla, and Dru. The other is
present day: Riley, Xander,
ANYA: “Are we not being covert enough?”
SPIKE: “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I sully our good name? We’re vampires!”
Riley’s foolhardy
attack on the vamp nest is very much like Angel’s pushed-to-the-limit attack on
Spike. Over one hundred years later,
Riley is being catapulted past the point of reason by the very same,
staggeringly cocky party: Spike. You
know, the guy Riley’s girl is out dancing with, tonight? He doesn’t know where Buffy is, you say? No, he doesn’t. But he will, soon. And we saw it in Dracula and we’ve seen it in every episode since. Riley senses that Buffy’s passions are
elsewhere. How reassuring were her words
to him, really, in Out of My Mind,
about wanting someone with superpowers?
“If that’s what I wanted, I’d be dating Spike.” Just what he needed to hear. Not.
By trying to be
what he believes Buffy wants him to be, instead of who he is, Riley is hurting
himself and impeding his own journey toward self-fulfillment.
There are many
references and images about the switching of roles, also emphasizing the way
others influence our journey:
Gender dynamics are definitely at play in
this episode, as Riley overdoes it, Angel talks about
“his women,’ while obviously uncomfortable with Darla’s disapproval, Willow
assures Xander that he’s cool, and Spike can’t win with Cecily, Dru, Harmony,
or Buffy. But this is the Jossverse and
the landscape is complicated. It isn’t
just about the way men try to impress women.
We see Spike trying to impress Angel, Xander wanting to be like Riley,
Dawn wanting to patrol as her sister does, and Buffy worrying that Riley thinks
she’s a wuss. (NOTE: The Dawn/Buffy scene is shot very much like
the William/Cecily scene, as both Dawn - a “short, annoying man” - and William
plead for a little recognition from the loved one they idealize).
The Gendy-bendy
King however, is, as always, Spike.
There are violent, tough guy images, and we watch Spike leaping over
obstacles, boldly confronting the fearsome Angel, and forcefully taking Drusilla
in his arms for sex. His appearance is
heavily masculine (dear God – those arms in the subway scene!). But what else have we got? Let’s see:
Make-up, jewelry, nail-polish, poems, extreme sensitivity, fighting with
a woman and wearing her coat. William ‘s
bravery and potential to be a strong, multifaceted, complete individual – a
good man – has been twisted into Spike’s ability to be a freewheeling,
fearless, and very effective bad man (with great arms).
Foreshadowing the Season 6 sex-capades is the sexual imagery that abounds in this
episode, particularly between Buffy & Spike. I get so lost in the metaphors, that when
Spike tells Buffy he already has “his weapon,” I’m nearly expecting to see – uh
– something other than a bumpy forehead.
So OK – I defer to my male readers – what am I learning here? Is becoming a man a profound and powerful
experience? Getting laid makes you feel
alive for the very first time, maybe? A
new strength coursing through you? I
don’t know, but I’m as fascinated as Buffy is by Spike’s shtick – not to
mention his stick. I can’t take my eyes
off Spike: He strokes that pool stick,
coolly hitting balls into holes; He taunts Angel into shoving him to the
ground, stick in hand; He gives Dru his finger to suck; He lights a matchstick;
He grabs Buffy and she puts her hand on his pool stick; He lies on the ground with the Subway Slayer
and later Buffy, straddling him; He tells Buffy he’ll slip in; He cocks a big ol’ shotgun, intending to take
a shot at Buffy. The Buffy & Spike chemistry
in this episode is so very hot (hot, hot, hot) that how anyone could doubt
where this relationship is going is beyond me.
Buffy doesn’t even
try to deny the attraction – by admitting that she wants to dance, she
acknowledges that what Spike is feeling is real. But in rejecting him she is acknowledging
another reality: Spike is an absolutely
vicious, remorseless murderer who has just made it clear he’d love to make her
his next victim at first opportunity. This
is not exactly flowers and candy and loving endearments, now is it? Buffy declines.
In Season 6, much
more vulnerable and alone, Buffy will give in to the powerful attraction she
feels for Spike. It will be part of a
painful growing and learning process for Buffy, and her Spike-assisted Season 6
journey is foreshadowed in Giles’ inability to help Buffy in this episode. They love one another, but he is a parental
figure, and he is becoming less and less central in her life. Note how she leaves him to seek out Spike –
i.e., someone who can help.
And Spike can
help. What happens with Angel in the
1800s foreshadows Spike’s upcoming role as the one who will take Buffy into the
light:
SPIKE
(to Angel): “I figure there’s a new
Chosen One getting all chosen as we speak.
I tell you what. When and if this
new bird shows up, I’ll give you first crack at her.”
And if I may be so
crude, when Spike and Angel next encounter a Slayer together, Angel does get
“first crack” at her. But there’s
something else being implied in Spike’s wording here – that Angel won’t finish
the job. Spike will. And so he does.
As he does briefly
with Angel in the mine-shaft, Spike will help Buffy find the courage to face
and acknowledge (and therefore come to take control) of the animal inside:
SPIKE
(to Angel): “Don’t you ever get tired of
fights you know you’re gonna win?”
ANGEL: “No. A
real kill, a good kill, it takes pure artistry.
Without that, we’re just animals.”
Buffy and Angel’s
attraction to Spike, their ultimate inability to resist him, belies the
existence of the animal-like, all fists-and-fangs selves they attempt to
suppress. Like Angel, Buffy is
attempting to script her fights, to get a blow-by-blow description she can map
out and memorize. But the animal inside
exists, and it cannot and should not be suppressed. It must be acknowledged, accepted, and
integrated into the self. Buffy and
Angel are therefore attracted to Spike despite their frilly cuffs-and-collars
selves, because he brings out a part of themselves that they secretly
love. They lunge at Spike, they want
Spike – precisely because they are used to winning – they always win - but with
Spike, they cannot win.
Spike wins if they
refuse to fight him, he wins if he bests them in a fight, and he wins if they
best him. He wins if they fight him at
all. It’s infuriating, it’s appalling -
and it’s sexy as hell. Note that Buffy
& Spike won’t consummate their relationship until the chip no longer
prevents him from winning a fight, until he taunts her, exactly as he has
taunted Angel, into pinning him to the ground, and into giving his smirky
son-of-a-bitch self exactly what he wants.
As long as they are attempting to deny and reject the animal-like part
of themselves, the Spike within – they can never win against him. Never.
It’s not about how he wins; it’s about how they lose. You can exert no control over what you deny.
But it isn’t only Buffy’s long night’s
journey into day that is foreshadowed in the episode: It’s is also Spike’s. In Out
of My Mind, we saw many images suggesting that Buffy was a God-like figure
to Spike, a Savior. And that is
reinforced in this episode. Not only
does Spike ask Buffy for wings (wings!), but, while standing at the pool table,
he reaches out to feel the wound at her side:
John 20:24-27
But Thomas, one of the twelve called
Didymus, was not with them when Jesus came.
The other disciples therefore said unto him, “We have seen The
Lord.” But he said unto them, “Except I
shall see in his hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print
of the nails, and thrust my hand into his side, I will not believe.” And after eight days again his disciples were
within, and Thomas with them. Then came
Jesus and stood in their midst, and said, “Peace be unto you.” Then sayeth he to Thomas, “Reach hither thy
finger, and behold my hands. And reach
hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side, and be not faithless, but
believing.”
And in the alley
outside The Bronze, Spike will kneel before her, the doubter on his knees. And in that alley, despite the nasty sound of
it, his plea for contact with Buffy is also a plea for his own redemption. And one day, when he first sees The Slayer
after her death, he will touch her bloody hands, and believe again.
Oh, Spike.
I am totally undone by this character in this episode. Toward
the end of it, Spike picks up a double-barreled shotgun and points it directly
at the camera. It’s superfluous really –
by the time we get to this scene, he has already laid us all out flat, hasn’t
he? Not that he’s through with us, or
with Buffy.
Here he comes
again. Here comes death, come to find
Buffy in her own backyard. But Buffy is
utterly unafraid of Spike. His encounter
with Buffy echoes his long ago encounter with Drusilla:
BUFFY: “What do
you want now?” (WILLIAM: “You’ll not be
getting my purse, I tell you.”)
SPIKE: “What’s
wrong?” (DRU: “What possible catastrophe came crashing down
from heaven, and brought this dashing stranger to his knees?”)
BUFFY: “I don’t
want to talk about it.” (WILLIAM: “Nothing.
I wish to be alone.”)
SPIKE: “Is
there something I can do?” (DRU: “Do you want it?”)
Spike
approaches Buffy, gun in hand. Perhaps
she should be afraid, but she isn’t. The
look on her face, as he surprises her with his compassion, is one of confusion,
not fear. He has seen her pain; she is hurting
and vulnerable and he is offering her what she needs. She is open to finding out what comes next. And here is a ray of hope: Spike breaks with the past that has so
recently come crashing into his present.
Unlike Dru, he doesn’t bring death to the tearful, vulnerable person
before him. He doesn’t feed on her. He – awkwardly – pats her on the back. He shows her his true face, and she is
unafraid.
And so then they
sit, side-by-side, these two Lords of Creation – one who has saved the world a
half-dozen times, and the other who has pillaged continents and killed two
Slayers. But in the still
Some things are
totally inaccessible to their machinations.
The World-Saver cannot save her mother, and The Slayer Killer cannot
kill The Slayer. It is absurd that they
should have come here, to this moment - yet it is so exactly right that neither
moves a muscle to leave. And they sigh
together, both feeling the impossibility and inevitability of what has passed, where
they now sit, and what’s to come.
Spicy extras for James
Marsters fans