TBAY: Crouch - Where Three Roads Meet (2 of 9)

[ssk7882 <skelkins@attbi.com>]

No: HPFGUIDX 47929

Two

Where Three Roads Meet

------------

"So," says Eileen, rearranging her small cups of CRAB CUSTARD with an 
ill-concealed air of insufferably smug self-satisfaction.  "Now that 
you've conceded that Crouch Sr. was indeed Dead Sexy, what next?"

"I have conceded no such thing," protests Elkins.  "I have merely 
conceded that the text does indeed *facilitate* such a reading.  For 
those Sick and Twisted and Warped and *Bent* enough to take the text 
up on its offer, that is."

Eileen sighs.  "You know, Elkins," she comments.  "I really am 
growing inured to your habit of calling me Sick and Twisted and 
Warped and Bent. I hardly even notice it anymore.  I hope that 
doesn't disappoint you too terribly much."

"It elates me," says Elkins coldly.  She drops her reins to allow her 
very high horse to nibble at the tough sea grasses lining the 
promenade along Theory Bay and pulls her yellowed old copy of the 
CRAB CUSTARD manifesto out of her pocket.  She unrolls it carefully 
and reads for a few moments.  She frowns.

"Eileen," she says.  "I'm afraid, you know, that I really must take 
umbrage at this...*insinuation* of yours that poor dear Bartemius 
Junior was the one responsible for the graying of his beastly 
father's wretched hair.  I simply can't allow that to pass any 
longer.  It really is the most vile slander imaginable, and--"

"You think *that's* the most vile slander imaginable?" Cindy pushes 
up her hat and stares at Elkins.  "Wow.  You must have a *really* 
limited imagination.  I can think up viler slander than *that* 
standing on my *head!*  Hey, have I ever told you about why I think 
Snape *really* left the DEs?  Or about how Arthur Weasley used to 
cast the Imperius Curse on people?  Or about how--"

"Have you really been dwelling on that throw-away comment ever since 
early in April?" Eileen asks, bemused.

"It's completely unjust!" Elkins says crossly.  "And totally 
contradicted by the text.  Just look!"


=====================================================================

On April 5, in message #37476, Eileen wrote:

> How come Crouch Sr. doesn't have a cool acronym, I wondered? He had
> grey hair in GoF, for sure, but a kid like Bartemius Jr. would give 
> anyone grey hair. 

Heh.  Well.  Maybe so.  Maybe so.

However.  While it is indeed possible to lay many dark, dire and 
dreadful things at Crouch Jr's feet, his father's transition from 
dark-haired to gray is not, alas, one of them.

> It's described as dark beforehand. 

Well, now, let's be fair, shall we?  Crouch's hair would seem to 
have started going grey somewhere around the time of Rookwood's 
arrest.  During Karkaroff's testimony, "Crouch's hair was dark."  
At Bagman's trial, "Mr. Crouch looked more tired and somehow fiercer, 
gaunter..."  By the time we get to the sentencing of young Crouch 
and his co-defendents, "Harry looked up at Crouch and saw that he 
looked gaunter and grayer than ever before."

Now, if Harry thought Crouch looked "grayer than ever before" at his 
son's trial, yet his hair was still "dark" at Karkaroff's hearing, 
then that must mean that it started to show the first signs of grey 
at Bagman's trial, which in turn indicates that Crouch's hair 
started to turn *before* the Longbottom Incident.  

So.  While I am sure that his son's arrest did indeed greatly 
accelerate the process, you can't go laying the blame for Crouch's 
evident aging *all* at young Barty's feet.  I'm tempted to suggest 
that the combined stress of revelations of moles in the ministry, 
political intrigue in the wake of Voldemort's fall, his wife's 
terminal illness, and his own loss of personal political autonomy
were all likely contributing factors to Crouch's gaunting and 
greying.  His son's arrest would merely have been the icing on the 
cake.  

======================================================================


"More Crouch Jr. apologetics, Elkins?"

"I simply couldn't allow that slander to go unaddressed any 
longer, Eileen."

"Elkins," says Cindy.  "You do realize that you've just gone to 
all the trouble to man the canons simply in order to provide a 
timeline for the greying of Crouch Sr's *hair,* don't you?"

"Well, I--"

"What's next, pray tell?  A stirring defense of the notion that 
Snape's hair isn't really unwashed, just naturally oily?"

Elkins flushes.  "Look," she says.  "Do you have any idea what it is 
*like* being young Crouch's defender?  Do you, Cindy?  Do you?  It.  
Is.  A.  *NIGHTMARE!*  Okay?  He's guilty of just about everything 
under the sun.  And more than a few things that lurk in the darkness
as well.  He's a Death Eater.  He's a sadist.  He's a weakling.  He's 
a patricide.  He's dissociative.  He letches after Parvati.  He makes 
poor widdle Neville cry.  He--"

"He tortured the Longbottoms," contributes Cindy helpfully.

"*Allegedly* tortured the Longbottoms," snaps Elkins.  "Be careful."

"Oh, Elkins.  Please."

"Well, he really could have been innocent of that one, you know.  
It's extremely unlikely, but it is possible.  But my point here is 
that when you speak for young Crouch, you find yourself spending an 
awful lot of your time pleading 'guilty as charged.'  So you can 
hardly blame me if I get a little bit excited when somebody finally 
hurls an *unfounded* allegation against the poor lad, can you?  And 
besides," she adds defensively.  "Crouch's Graying Hair Timeline is 
highly significant!"

"Significant?  As significant as the question of whether or not
Crouch Sr. was Dead Sexy, I suppose.  Face it, Elkins.  You have
nothing to say here.  All of this stuff is just useless *trivia!*"

"Yes?"  Elkins smiles faintly.  "It's interesting that you should 
have used that particular word, Cindy.  Do you know the derivation 
of the word 'trivia?'  It comes from the Latin.  From _trivium._  
Meaning 'crossroads.'

"Specifically," she adds, with a meaningful glance over to Eileen.  
"A very particular *type* of crossroads.  Originally it referred to 
a place where *three roads meet.*"

Eileen looks up sharply from her cups of CRAB CUSTARD.  Elkins 
smiles unpleasantly at her.

"The Devil's in the details," she says softly.  "Isn't it, Eileen."

"What?"  Cindy looks between the two of them them, puzzled.  "What 
are you..."

"The Crouch's Greying Hair Timeline," Elkins says, still smiling 
rather predatorily over at Eileen.  "Is relevant because it speaks 
to Crouch's political situation in the years following Voldemort's 
fall.  Which in turn speaks to his state of mind at the time of his 
son's arrest.  Which in turn speaks to his motivations in regard to 
his son's trial.  Which in *turn,*" she concludes.  "Has direct 
bearing on the nature of his _hamartia._"

"His what?" asks Cindy.

"His fault, his failing.  The error that leads to his destruction."

"His tragic flaw," explains Eileen.

"Oh."

"And that, in turn, has direct bearing on Eileen's reading of Crouch 
as Tragic Hero."

"So you *did* read my Crouch As Tragic Hero post," exclaims Eileen.  
"I'd wondered."

"Yes, I did.  I liked it very much.  Although..."  Elkins hesitates.  
"Well, it's rather a curious structure for a tragedy, isn't it?  One 
in which the cathartic recognition of wrong-doing happens before the 
nature of that wrong-doing has yet been revealed to the audience?  I 
mean, structurally speaking, it doesn't really hold together all 
that well as a tragedy, does it?  We get Crouch's redemption scene 
before we've even learned what his *hamartia* is.  Kind of weakens 
the catharsis, don't you think?"

"Well, none of those secondary meanings that you like so much in 
Crouch Jr's dialogue are visible on first reading either," retorts 
Eileen, with spirit.  

"Oh, true enough.  True enough.  And really, I have no problem at 
all with readings that are only discernable on a second go-round.  
They're my favorite ones.  But Crouch as Tragic Hero just doesn't 
hold together for me, because...well..."

Elkins' smirk quivers.  She shifts uncomfortably in her saddle.

"Eileen," she says slowly.  "Do you remember back in message #44636, 
when you told me:

> Let me confess that I like nothing better than seeing you attack 
> Crouch Sr. It makes me feel beleaguered and under pressure?"

"Yeeees," says Eileen cautiously.  "I do seem to remember saying 
something like that to you once.  Despiadado Denethor, wasn't it?"

"Yes.  Well, uh, look.  You really did mean that, didn't you?  I 
mean, you weren't just saying that?  You really *meant* it?"  

"Uh-oh," mutters Cindy.

"Well, I don't know," says Eileen.  "There isn't going to be 
vituperative language involved here, is there?"

"Almost certainly," Elkins assures her.  "Vituperative language 
galore.  Also stridency, hostility, and bile.  Possibly even some 
spitting.  I *did* tell you that I hadn't even begun to touch on 
Mr. Crouch's iniquities, didn't I?  And you *know* how I feel about 
the man.  I just couldn't *believe* that he wasn't included as an 
option on that 'who do you hate the most?' poll on OTC.  I mean, 
the pathetic Cornelius Fudge?  The sad sad Dursleys?  That mild-
mannered fellow Voldemort?  And yet no Barty Crouch Sr.?  Really!  
What on earth is *wrong* with people?"

Eileen opens her mouth to speak, then seems to think better of 
it.

"So yes," Elkins concludes.  "There will likely be vituperative 
language.  No Cruciatus this time, though.  I promise.  Although 
there may be a little bit of politics.  But you don't mind a 
little bit of politics, do you, Eileen?"

"*UH*-oh," Cindy says again.  "These are going to be *Potterverse* 
politics, Elkins.  Aren't they?"

"But of course," replies Elkins, her eyes very wide.  "What on earth 
could real world politics *possibly* have to do with Crouch's 
plotline?"

"Well," says Eileen after a second's pause. "I'm game.  Really, 
there's so much to talk about here. Has anyone ever tried to sort 
out what was going on with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? 
Too much speculation about James, Lily, Peter, Dumbledore and such 
things. Not enough speculation about Crouch's strategies." 

"I *quite* agree," says Elkins, rather grimly.  "So let's take a look 
at those strategies, shall we?  Have you noticed, by the way, that 
the Crouch's Greying Hair Timeline contradicts Sirius' accounting of 
events?"

"It does?"  Cindy frowns.  "How does it do that?"

"Well, Sirius implies that young Crouch's arrest was a catastrophic 
event, doesn't he?  A sudden stroke of fate, descending from the 
heavens to strike poor old Crouch down just when his life seemed 
to be going perfectly?  He says: 

'So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made....
One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic...next, his 
son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonored, and, so I've 
heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity.'"

"Yeah?  So?"

"So the evidence of the Pensieve contradicts this.  It shows us that 
the revelation of his son's involvement with the Death Eaters wasn't 
actually a catastrophic occurrence for Crouch at all.  It was 
*calamitous* for him, to be sure.  But it wasn't actually 
*catastrophic.*  It wasn't a sudden blow of fate that struck him 
from out of the blue just when everything was going his way, as 
Sirius seems to imply. It wasn't anything like that.  It was a last 
straw, not a first cause.  Crouch's hold on his political power was 
slipping even before the Longbottom affair happened."

"You're getting all of this from the state of the man's *hair?*" 

"No.  Also from Ludo Bagman's trial.  Look."


===================================================================

"'When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time 
until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate 
happened...' Sirius smiled grimly. 'Crouch's own son was caught with 
a group of Death Eaters who'd managed to talk their way out of 
Azkaban.'"

The impression of Crouch that we get from Sirius in "Padfoot 
Returns" is that of a man who had the public wrapped around his 
little finger in the wake of Voldemort's fall.  He could send a 
man to prison for life without even giving him a trial.  He could 
authorize his Aurors to summarily execute those who had never been 
formally accused of any crime.  He could authorize the use of 
torture, and of mind control.  

And the public was behind him.  Sirius says that Crouch had popular 
support.  He claims that the people were 'clamoring' for Crouch to 
become the next Minister of Magic, and he suggests that what changed 
this state of affairs was Crouch's son's implication in the assault 
on the Longbottoms.  

The scenes that we see in the Pensieve, however, tell a very 
different story.  What they show us is that Crouch's popularity,
as well as his hold on his power, had begun to slip even before 
his son's arrest.

In the first of the Pensieve scenes, Karkaroff's hearing, an eleven 
year war that was clearly deeply traumatic for the WW has just come 
to an end.  Not much time seems to have passed since Voldemort's 
fall: there is still talk of rounding up the "last of the Death 
Eaters," and the Azkaban grape-vine, which will later enable Sirius 
to learn about the imprisoned Death Eaters' thoughts on both 
Karkaroff and Pettigrew, does not seem to have yet been established.  
Karkaroff is sorely ignorant of what has been happening in the 
outside world since his imprisonment: he has not learned of Rosier's 
death; he does not know of Dolohov's arrest.

The war doesn't seem to have been over for very long at all in this 
first scene, and Crouch is looking *great.*  He is "fit and alert," 
his face is comparatively unlined, his hair is dark.  Moody describes
the decision to cut a deal with Karakaroff as if it had been Crouch's 
own, a decision which it is very hard to believe the head of the DMLE 
would still be permitted to make unilaterally in the current time 
period of the canon.  Crouch's command over the situation at 
Karkaroff's hearing never falters.  He comes across as a man in full 
control of his situation.

The next scene we see, however, shows us rather a dramatic change in 
Crouch's status.  At Ludo Bagman's trial, the public turns against 
Crouch.  They cut him off with angry murmers before he can even 
finish delivering his recommendation to the jury, and they cheer the 
defendent he is trying to prosecute.  In the end, they effectively 
overturn his verdict: Ludo Bagman walks free.  Furthermore, when 
Crouch tries to intervene:

"....there was an angry outcry from the surrounding benches. 
Several of the witches and wizards around the walls stood up, 
shaking their heads, and even their fists, at Mr. Crouch."

Shaking their *fists* at him?

Unsurprisingly, it is also at Bagman's trial that Harry first notices 
Crouch's signs of age.  It is here, not at his son's trial, that he 
first begins to be described with terms like "gaunt," and it is here, 
not at his son's trial, that his hair is first beginning to go grey.

This does not look to me like a man who is at the ascendant of his 
political career, considered a 'hero,' poised to be swept into office 
as the next Minister of Magic by a groundswell of popular support, as 
Sirius' account would lead us to believe.  

This looks to me like a man who has already begun to lose the good 
will of the populace.  

This looks to me like a man whose political star is already 
beginning to fall.

======================================================================


"I don't think that it was his son's arrest that destroyed Crouch's 
political career at all," says Elkins firmly.  "I think that it was 
peace."

"Peace?" 

Elkins nods.  "Crouch rose to power during the war, and apparently he 
did so rather...precipitously.  Sirius says that 'he rose quickly 
through the Ministry.'  Now, Crouch may not be quite as elderly as 
Harry initially thinks that he is, but I don't think that he was 
exactly a young man either.  So what we are looking at here is a man 
whose rise to power was itself a by-product of the war.  We are 
looking at a man who was *made* by the war."

"Times like that bring out the best in some people," offers Eileen.

"And the worst in others.  Crouch owed his rise to power to the war, 
and the war seems to have treated him well.  When we first see him 
in the Pensieve, he hardly looks worn down by all of his heroic 
efforts to stem the tide of Dark Wizardry, does he?  He doesn't 
look worn down at all.  He looks *great.*  Really, Voldemort's rise 
would seem to have been very good to Crouch.  It enabled him to 
seize far more power for himself than he would ordinarily have 
been entitled to.  It allowed him to relax the restrictions on 
the Aurors, men who seem to have been accountable to him personally 
in his role as the Head of the DMLE.  By the end of the conflict, 
it seems that he had even managed to wrest for himself somehow the 
right to make unilateral decisions regarding the disposition of 
prisoners.  He is the one who gives the 'authorization' to send 
Sirius Black to prison without trial.  He is the one who cuts a 
deal with Karkaroff and allows him to walk free.

"That's an extraordinary amount of power for one man to hold," 
Elkins concludes grimly.  "*Especially* in a society which, as we 
see from the Pensieve trials, ordinarily adheres to a system of 
trial by jury."

"Well, you know, Elkins," Cindy says.  "There *was* a war on."

"Yes.  There was a war on.  The Romans had a word for people who were 
granted extraordinary powers during times of war.  They called them 
*dictators.*  Is it just me, or is there something just a little 
bit...suggestive about the way that Sirius describes Crouch's 
popularity in 'Padfoot Returns?'"

"He says Crouch was a popular politician," Cindy says, shrugging.
"And that he was a favorite to become the next Minister of Magic.
What's wrong with that?"

"Not a thing.  But that's not precisely what he says."

Eileen ducks under her CRAB CUSTARD table, emerging a few moments 
later with a copy of _GoF._  She opens it to a well worn spot and
begins to read.

"'He had his supporters, mind you -- plenty of people thought he was 
going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches 
and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic.'"

"Yes," says Elkins.  "'Supporters.'  'Clamoring.'  'Clamoring for 
him to take over.'  What does that sound like to you?"

Cindy's eyes light up.  "A *coup!*" she cries.  "It sounds like a
bloody *coup!*"

"Elkins," says Eileen reprovingly.  "Now look what you've done."

"Bloody Coup!  Bloody Coup!  Bloody Coup!"  

"You just *had* to set her off, didn't you?  Elkins, you know 
perfectly well that you're exaggerating again.  Crouch wasn't 
Stalin, and he wasn't planning a bloody coup either."

"No," agrees Elkins.  "He wasn't planning a bloody coup.  If he'd 
really been planning a bloody coup, then he would have had his Aurors 
march right into Bagman's trial and *arrest* that pesky jury."

Cindy, her Big Paddle clutched in her hands and a wild gleam in her
eyes, opens her mouth as if to speak.

"Which he did *not.*" Elkins adds firmly.  "He didn't even have them 
standing around looking menacing.  I'm not claiming that Crouch was 
planning a bloody coup."

"No bloody coup?" Cindy asks, looking heart-broken.

"No.  However, I do think that there are some elements of that 
dynamic implied by the text.  He does seem to have seized for 
himself quite a few unilateral powers by the end of the war.  People 
are always talking about what *Crouch* did.  Crouch sent Sirius 
Black and others to prison without trial.  Crouch cut a deal with 
Karkaroff. Crouch authorized harsh measures.  It's just...well, let 
me just ask you this.  Who was the Minister of Magic while Crouch 
was the head of the DMLE?" 

Eileen blinks.  "The what?" she asks.

"The Minister of *Magic.*  At the time of Voldemort's fall.  You 
know, the man in charge?  The fellow Crouch was supposedly all 
poised to replace?  Who was he?  What was his *name?*"

There is silence.

"We could always check the Lexicon..." suggests Eileen.

"It's probably in one of the schoolbooks somewhere..." says Cindy.  

"Uh-huh.  Right.  Okay, let's try this one, then.  In Harry's day, in 
the time period of the canon, who is the person we see authorizing 
all extraordinary legal measures?  Who decides to place Hagrid into 
custody? Who authorizes the Dementor's Kiss to be used on Sirius 
Black?  Who gives Harry a pass on his violations of the Restriction 
on Underage Wizardry?  Who is the person we consistently see making 
those decisions?"

There is another brief silence.

"Cornelius Fudge," Eileen answers, at length.

"Yes.  Cornelius Fudge.  Who is the *Minister of Magic.*  And the 
current head of the DMLE is...?"

Cindy mumbles something about the schoolbooks.

"I'd say that the war treated Crouch pretty well," Elkins says 
softly.  "Wouldn't you?

"But it ended.  Voldemort fell, the war ended, and once that 
happened, Crouch started to lose his influence.  We see it happening, 
right there in the Pensieve.  We see the public turn against him at 
Bagman's trial.  We see them shake their fists at him, and cheer on 
the defendent.  We see his signs of exhaustion, his evident signs of 
aging.  All of that happened *before* the arrest of the Pensieve 
Four.  Sirius' account of the timeline is the account of history, but 
we all know that history tends to telescope events.  Events get 
telescoped in retrospect.  The Pensieve scenes show us how those 
events actually played out at the *time,* and what they show is that 
Crouch's career was already in trouble.  It was in trouble even 
before the assault on the Longbottoms took place."

"Because the war had ended," murmers Eileen.

"Because the war had ended.  And also because...well, JOdel touched
on something rather significant, I thought, when she wrote:

> Heaven only knows what Crouch's plans are for a peacetime 
> government, but it seems fairly safe to say that no former DE 
> likes the idea." 

"I should say that they wouldn't!" exclaims Eileen.

"Well, I don't think that anyone liked the idea very much, frankly,"
says Elkins.  "I think that the Pensieve scenes show us that even 
perfectly law-abiding citizens were already beginning to have some 
serious qualms about Crouch even by the time of Bagman's trial.  
People always talk about Bagman's trial as if it is just an 
illustration of the jury's bias in favor of a popular celebrity, you
know, but I've always read it as a bit more than that myself."

"You also read it as an expression of public hostility towards 
Crouch?" asks Eileen.

"Something like that.  Or at the very least, as a good hard yank on 
his choke chain.  I'm sure that the jury idolized Bagman, but I also 
think that it was sending a message to Crouch.  I don't believe that 
Crouch was planning a coup, but I think that his political ambitions 
did rather incline him in that direction, and the people in that 
courtroom knew it. I read their behavior at Bagman's trial as more 
than just an expression of celebrity worship.  I also read it as a 
check.  A jerk on the choke-chain.  Maybe even as something akin to a 
*warning.*"

"I've said myself that Bagman's case should never have come to 
trial," says Eileen slowly.  "So you think the jury was warning 
Crouch that they weren't going to stand for any more shaky 
convictions?"

"Yes.  I think they were conveying the message that the time for 
witch-hunts was over.  As was the time for dictatorial unilateral
powers.  That they weren't going to put up with Crouch pulling those 
sorts of stunts anymore and that if he tried it, they weren't going 
to follow his lead.  That instead, they would go out of their way
to obstruct him."

"So you don't think that Crouch was really a popular politician at
all then?" asks Cindy.

"No, I'm sure that he was immensely popular -- during the *war.*  
People love politicians like Crouch in times of war, because when 
people are frightened, they are willing to accept an unusually high 
degree of tyranny.  In fact, if only they become frightened enough, 
then they actually embrace it.  They *want* to submit themselves to a 
strong authoritarian figure.  It makes them feel safe.  Protected.  
You might even say," Elkins adds, with a small smile.  "That they go 
all Barty Jr. in the Pensieve."

"Daddy, save me?" suggests Eileen.

"'Father, save me!  Control me, dominate me, coerce me, break me, 
enslave me.  Use your Unforgivable Curses on me.  Do whatever you 
like with me, just don't let the scary *dementors* get me!'"

Elkins takes a deep breath.

"Crouch's relationship with his son," she states.  "Reiterates on the 
personal level his political relationship with the wizarding world as 
a whole."

"Elkins!" objects Cindy.  "Voldemort and his Death Eaters were a 
very real and serious threat to the wizarding world!"

"The Dementors were a very real and serious threat to young Crouch.  
They'd nearly killed him within the year."

"But--"

"It's a funny thing, though, you know," continues Elkins, "the way 
that dynamic tends to work.  Once the immediate danger is past, then 
people do often start to feel rather differently about those they 
allowed to strip them of their liberties 'for their own good' while 
the threat was still active.  They sometimes get a wee bit 
*resentful* about that.  *Especially* if they come to suspect that 
their protector's motives were perhaps never really all that pure to 
begin with.  We see that with Crouch Jr., I think.  And I'd say that 
at Bagman's trial, we see it with the wizarding world as a body 
politic."  

"Ungrateful little brats," mutters Eileen.

"Hating tyranny is *not* ingratitude, Eileen," snaps Elkins.  "Hating 
tyranny is a moral *imperative!*"  

Elkins' hobby horse starts violently.  She clutches at its mane to
keep her balance, then leans forward to whisper soothingly into its
ear.  After a few moments, the horse settles.  Elkins straightens
slowly.

"You know," she says, far more calmly now.  "We've talked a bit in 
the past about the ways in which Crouch resembles Livius Junius 
Brutus, the one who sentenced his sons to death for treason.  But 
I've always been rather partial to the *other* Brutus myself."  

"The one who assassinated Julius Caesar?" asks Cindy.  

"Yes.  And...well, and actually, I think that Eileen knows 
*precisely* where this train of thought is leading me.  In fact, I 
have a funny feeling that she's been trying to get me to follow her 
there for months now.  Go on, Eileen.  You sat an exam on the Julio-
Claudians a while back, didn't you?"

Eileen nods, smiling slightly.  "Brutus," she tells Cindy.  "Was 
rumoured to be Julius Caesar's own son."

Elkins grins mirthlessly.  

"Sic semper tyrannis," she spits.  

Eileen eyes Elkins' hobby horse's wild eyes and bared teeth with
due caution.  

"Now, why am I beginning to suspect, Elkins," she says.  "That you 
and that horse of yours came here today not to praise Crouch, but 
to bury him?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Eileen," Elkins replies lazily.  "Why on earth 
would I want to do a silly thing like that?  We both *know* how 
dangerous buried things can be.  Don't we?"

Cindy shakes her head.  "There are times when people need to submit 
themselves to a bit of tyranny."

"There are," agrees Elkins.  "And then there are other times when 
they had really better not.  Not if they know what's best for 
them.  'Harry, obedience is a virtue I need to teach you before you 
die.'  Voldemort presents as a father figure in the graveyard, 
doesn't he?  There's a reason that it pleased people to believe that 
Brutus must have been Caesar's natural son, you know.  Tyrannicide 
and patricide are very closely conceptually linked.  It seems to me 
that the parricide motif cuts both ways in GoF.  Sometimes a little 
bit of parricide is a necessary thing."

"In moderation," cautions Eileen.

"In moderation.  In *principle.*  I think that the parricide motif
of GoF is actually quite a bit like the immortality motif of the 
series as a whole.  So long as it remains in the realms of the 
spiritual, or of the symbolic, or of the thematic, or of the 
abstract, then it's a good thing.  It's only when you try to 
literalize it, to make it manifest in the physical world, that it 
becomes unremittingly negative."

"So you're, uh, saying that you should never try to literalize your
metaphors then?" asks Cindy, glancing uneasily about the Bay.

"Not if you're in the Potterverse, no.  Which we, fortunately enough, 
are not.  But the question of tyranny and obedience in the books 
really brings us right back to that old question of rule-breaking in 
the series, doesn't it?  In the HP books, the virtue of obedience is 
largely dependent upon the intentions of those giving the orders.  
Were Crouch's motives pure?"

"Yes," answers Eileen instantly.  

Elkins closes her eyes.  

"That was a rhetorical question, Eileen," she says.  "Obviously *I* 
don't think that Crouch's motives were pure.  And that's my real 
problem with Crouch as Tragic Hero, you know.  I'm not seeing any 
purity of motive there."

"Why does that matter?" asks Cindy.

Eileen sighs.  "Because of Nobility of Stature," she explains.  
"Tragic heroes possess nobility of stature, and properly that 
ought to apply to virtue as well as to social standing.  It's 
the very first question on the Tragic Hero Quiz."

"And there's good reason for that," says Elkins.  "It's really the 
question on which all the others devolve, because if you don't have 
nobility of stature, then it doesn't matter how many of the other 
criteria get filled.  It still won't give you a tragic hero.  So 
it's actually a very important question: do Crouch's choices reveal 
nobility of stature?  Does he display any true nobility or purity 
of motive at all?  Do you remember back in April, Eileen, when 
Talon DG suggested that when examining Crouch's character, we would 
be much better off looking at motivation than at action?  He 
suggested that our interpretation of Crouch's character largely 
devolves on how we evaluate his motives in regard to his son's trial."

Eileen nods.  "I remember that.  It was message #37574.  He made a 
Gulf War parallel, which I'd really better not reproduce here..."

"No, best not," Elkins agrees quickly.  "Not a good time for it."

"...and then he wrote: 'some motives are more noble than others.'"

"Yes.  And that's true.  Some motives really *are* more noble than 
others.  And if your means are bad, then your intentions had better 
be pretty darned pure.  So what can we deduce about Crouch's motives, 
in light of what we have deduced about his political situation in the 
wake of Voldemort's fall?  What was Point Five of your CRAB CUSTARD 
manifesto again?" 

"Point Five?"

"Yes."  

Eileen pulls out her own yellowed copy of message #37476 and reads 
aloud:

> 5. If Crouch had survived GoF, he would very likely have finally 
> been made Minister of Magic. With Voldemort back, he would not 
> have stayed silent, and people would have rallied behind him. 

"Yes," says Elkins.  "You know, I think you're absolutely right about 
that?  And I think that Crouch himself knew it, too.  Remember when 
Sirius claimed that he had developed a mania for catching one last 
Dark Wizard?  Because if only he could do that, then it might restore 
his lost *popularity?*"

"This is turning into a 'Crouch sacrificed his son to his career 
ambition' argument, isn't it?" says Eileen gloomily.  "Elkins, you 
*know* that's just a red herring in the plot!"

"I know that you think it is.  That was Point Four of the CRAB 
CUSTARD manifesto, wasn't it?

> 4. Crouch did not sacrifice his son to his career ambition. This 
> seems to be a red herring in the plot.

"But I am not so sure," says Elkins quietly.  "I see plenty of 
indications in the text that Crouch was indeed in the habit of 
sacrificing people to his political ambitions, and that the 
Pensieve Four, guilty though they may have been, were indeed among 
the people so sacrificed, just like Sirius Black was.  That his son 
happened to be among their number certainly did complicate things for 
him on the personal level -- and it also complicates things for us on 
the thematic level.  But I think that we fall into error if we ignore 
what the Pensieve sequences are trying to show us about Crouch's 
political situation in the years following Voldemort's fall."

"Your Crouch's Graying Hair Timeline," says Cindy flatly.

"Yes, among other things.  The Devil's in the details, Cindy.  
Important things *happen* at places where three roads meet.  The 
Pensieve sequences suggest that Crouch was a war-time leader, one 
whose popularity was largely dependent upon the fear and paranoia of 
a war-time mentality.  Absent that mentality, his grasp on the 
affection of the public begins to slip.  Really, after Rookwood, he 
doesn't seem to have had much left in the way of big game, does he?  
He's been reduced to trying to prosecute hapless morons like Ludo 
Bagman, who are guilty of things like passing on information to old 
family friends.  It's just sad, really.  Not at all advantageous 
to Crouch.  Not at all good for his *career.*  Politicians like 
Crouch can only maintain their power for as long as they have an 
Enemy.  Preferably one with a Capital E.

"I think that the assault on the Longbottoms must have seemed like a 
golden opportunity for Crouch," says Elkins.  "His department was 
under pressure to make an arrest.  People were outraged.  They were 
out for blood.  The event put them right back into a war-time 
mentality. We see that at the sentencing, that angry hissing mob.  If 
Ludo Bagman's trial had taken place in that atmosphere, do you really 
think that the jury would have dared thwart Crouch's recommendation?  
Sports celebrity or no, even if all he'd been doing was innocently 
passing along a few papers, I think that they would have been right 
behind Crouch in putting him away.  The text even invites the reader 
to come to that conclusion by pointing out that the crowd applauds 
Crouch's sentence upon the Longbottom defendents just as it had 
applauded Bagman's acquittal in the previous scene.  The Longbottom 
case put the public right back under Crouch's thumb, didn't it?  It 
made them want him *back.*  And he was right there for them when they 
did.  Just look at the performance he gave them at his son's 
sentencing!"

"Performance?" repeats Cindy incredulously.  "You mean that eye 
bulging, spitting, ranting apoplectic *fit* that destroyed the 
poor man's career?  He was furious, Elkins!  Beside himself.  
He lost his temper.  You're calling that a *performance?*"

"Are you saying that was all an act?" asks Eileen doubtfully.

"*All* an act?"  Elkins shakes her head.  "No.  Not all.  But--"

"I think that Elkins just wants *everyone* in the Pensieve to 
have been putting on an act," Cindy snickers.  "The Crouch family 
pageant."

"Well, I *do* think that they were all putting on an act, to some 
extent," admits Elkins.  "It *was* a bit of a Crouch family pageant, 
I'd say.  Or maybe more like a Crouch family psychodrama.  Charis 
said something quite like that once, when she wrote:

> What the whole scene reminds me of more than anything else is a 
> really bad family row blown *way* out of proportion and set up 
> for public display. 

"And I absolutely agree with her.  But I don't think that it was 
*all* an act, not on any of their parts.  I'm sure that Mrs. Crouch 
was genuinely distraught.  I'm sure that Crouch Jr. was genuinely 
terrified. And I'm sure that Crouch Sr. was genuinely furious with 
his son, as well as genuinely conflicted, and probably also feeling 
rather angry with the crowd for putting him in such an awful 
situation.  I also agree with Charis that he was 'acting to himself' 
to a certain extent: psyching himself up, steeling his nerve, trying 
to divorce his feelings from what he felt that he had to be doing..."

"That 'You Are Not My Son...'" Eileen begins.

"Sure.  Absolutely.  But he was playing to his audience as well.  
He wasn't *just* 'acting to himself.'  Crouch was playing the crowd."

"You're just saying that because you don't like him," says Cindy.

"No, I'm not," snaps Elkins irritably.  "Look.  That particular 
expression of rage, with all of the bellowing, and the eye bulging, 
and...well, doesn't that entire routine strike the reader as awfully 
*familiar?*  Hadn't we seen all that somewhere before?  Somewhere 
else, long before the Pensieve chapter came along?"

Eileen nods.  She flips through her copy of GoF, finds the page, 
and begins to read:

"'And I trust you remember the many proofs I have given, over a 
long career, that I despise and detest the Dark Arts and those 
who practice them?" Mr. Crouch shouted, his eyes bulging again."

"Yes.  It's interesting, that, isn't it?  You know, Eric Oppen once 
suggested that Crouch's plan to rescue his son from prison was 
already forming in his mind even at the time of the trial."

"Eric Oppen is a mad subversive!"

"True, but there's usually more than a touch of method to his 
madness, very much like there's more than a touch of method to the 
Crouch family's acting skills.  I don't myself believe that Crouch 
had already planned to spring his son from Azkaban by the time of the 
trial, but I can certainly see how Eric might have come by that 
notion.  The connection between that Pensieve scene and Crouch's 
scene with Winky at the QWC is indeed very suggestive."

"His behavior throughout that scene *is* similar to his behavior at 
his son's sentencing," agrees Eileen.  "It repeats quite a number of 
descriptive phrases.  It's a parallel scene."

"Yes.  I'd say that it's quite clearly written as a parallel scene.  
So what do we make of that?  Mr. Crouch is really not being 
altogether honest there at the QWC, is he?  He's being quite devious, 
actually.  And rather blackly ironic, too, with that 'despise and 
detest the Dark Arts and those who practice them' speech.  After all, 
he's scrambling all over himself to deflect attention from his *Death 
Eater son.*  The one he knows perfectly well is an unrepentent 
fanatical devotee of Voldemort.  The one he has been harboring in his 
own home for the past ten years.  The one who has just shot the Dark 
Mark into the sky.  The one who is lying invisible and unconscious 
only a few feet away, while Crouch himself does everything in his 
power to cover for him.  You said yourself that the scene at the 
QWC showcases Crouch's manipulative talents, Eileen."

"I did say that," admits Eileen.  "But--"

"Just look at all of the other parallels as well.  Crouch looks down 
at Winky with 'no pity in his gaze,' exactly as he will look at his 
son in the dock 'with pure hatred in his face.'  In 'Padfoot 
Returns,' the text will beg us to compare the two situations, by 
having Sirius Black comment that Crouch Jr. could have been in the 
wrong place at the wrong time 'just like the house-elf.'"

"Well, they're both scenes of denunciation, aren't they?" Cindy 
points out.  "In both cases, Crouch is renouncing a member of his 
household who has disobeyed him."

"Yes, but given that the two scenes *are* so obviously and blatantly 
parallel, doesn't that almost beg us to take a closer look at what 
is really happening in each of them?  In both cases, Crouch is not 
*just* renouncing a disobedient member of his household.  He is very 
specifically doing so for the benefit of an *audience.*  And in a 
situation in which it is very much to his own personal advantage to 
put on a good show of hard-line severity to protect himself: his 
reputation, his position, his standing, his freedom, his fugitive 
son.  At the QWC, he's ostensibly renouncing Winky because she 
disobeyed him but in actuality, his motives are quite a bit more 
complicated than that, aren't they?  We know that his motives aren't 
nearly as simple as they first appear, because the author later 
provides us with the details which enable us to recognize the extent 
to which Crouch was manipulating that entire situation for his own 
personal advantage.  The extent to which he was playing the crowd.  
The extent to which he was *acting.*  You yourself cited this scene 
as proof that 'Barty Jr. inherited his talent for acting from his 
father,' Eileen."

"I know," sighs Eileen.  "I know that I did."

"The author provides us with the information which enables us to 
recognize in retrospect the extent to which Crouch's act at the QWC 
was just that: an *act.*  A strategy of misdirection.  And also,"
adds Elkins meaningfully.  "The extent to which it was a *sacrifice.*"

Eileen opens her mouth.

"As well as an attempted exorcism," Elkins adds quickly, looking at 
her.  "I'll be getting to that in part six, Eileen, okay?  Just bear 
with me here."

Eileen closes her mouth and sighs.

"So why does Crouch preside over a kangaroo court in the case of the
Longbottoms' assailants?" asks Elkins.  "Why does he allow violation
of due process, conviction in the face of no evidence?  Why does he 
behave precisely as he does at the trial?  Just because he's furious 
with his son?  Just because he can't brook disobedience from members
of his household?  Because he's outraged?  Because he is convinced of 
the defendents' guilt?  Because he hates dark wizardry?"

She shakes her head firmly.  "No," she says.  "I don't think so.  
That's the superficial reading, but by drawing such a strong parallel 
between Crouch Jr's sentencing and Winky's denunciation at the QWC, I 
think that the text urges us to consider Crouch's more Slytherinesque 
and self-interested motives as well.

"I can't agree that 'Crouch sacrificed his son to his career 
ambition' is a red herring," continues Elkins.  "That's a gross over-
simplification of a rather thematically-complex plotline, to be 
sure.  It's hardly the whole story.  But I can't see it as precisely 
a red herring because in fact, Crouch *did* have very strong 
political reasons to behave exactly as he did in regard to the 
Longbottom Affair, and the text itself encourages us to consider 
them: by showing us the trajectory of his post-war career in the 
Pensieve scenes, by drawing such a strong parallel between the scene 
at the sentencing and the scene at the QWC, and by giving us Sirius' 
comment about Crouch's 'mania' for catching just one last Dark 
Wizard -- to restore his lost *popularity.*  

"That witch-hunt atmosphere we see at the trial of the Pensieve Four 
was exactly what Crouch needed.  It was what he thrived on.  His 
political power depended on it.  The Longbottom Incident was Crouch's 
one great chance to regain what he had lost when Voldemort fell.  And 
he *seized* it.  He exploited the opportunity.  At his son's 
sentencing, we see him encouraging that atmosphere.  He's really not 
doing a thing to combat the mob mentality in that courtroom, is he?  
On the contrary, he is actively fostering it, with all of his 'crime 
so heinous we've never seen the like,' and his 'resume the lives of 
violence you had led' talk.  Really, he's spurring the crowd on, 
isn't he?  He's whipping them up. He is *pandering,* pandering to all 
of their very worst instincts, and he is doing it deliberately, 
because that sort of mass hysteria was the source of Crouch's 
personal power. That atmosphere of hatred and anger and paranoia is 
precisely what the likes of Crouch batten upon.  That witch hunt 
atmosphere was exactly what he *needed.*"

Elkins pauses for breath.  

"But he overstepped," she concludes, with a kind of grim relish.  
"He overstepped, he miscalculated, he misjudged.  And because his 
own son was involved, it all backfired on him.  Evil oft will evil 
mar.  Hoist by his own petard.  Sic.  Semper.  Tyrannis."

Elkins' pale hobby horse lays back its ears and whickers unpleasantly.
Eileen glances at its bared teeth and narrowed eyes, and then up
at Elkins, who bears very much the same expression.  She takes a 
few wary steps backwards.

"And Brutus was an honorable man," she says cautiously.  "But so 
was Bartemius Crouch.  You said so yourself, you know, Elkins.  
You did."

"Did I?  Did *I* say that?  Did I really?"  Elkins thinks for a 
moment, then sighs.  "Yes," she admits.  "I suppose that I did say 
that once, didn't I.  Well, you know, Eileen, your Crouch Sr. 
Apologetics are really very persuasive.  Dangerously so, at times, 
with all of those Tough and Steely Livian parallels that I find so 
hard to resist, and all of that lovely meta-thinking that you do so 
well.  They're positively *fiendish,* they really are.  Imperius-
like, in fact.  And I am vulnerable to Imperius, you know.  I'm even 
worse than the Weasleys that way."

"I sense a 'but' coming here," murmers Cindy.

"Oh," Eileen whispers back, "you sense one of those coming too?" 

"*But.*  There's one thing that they always seem to overlook.  One 
absolutely vital aspect of Crouch's character that they never seem 
to touch upon, or even to acknowledge somehow.  And it's a very 
curious omission, too, because it's a thing that strikes me as quite 
possibly Crouch Sr's most notable characteristic.  I also feel that 
it is absolutely vital to the question of whether or not we can read 
him as a tragic hero."

"Oh?" asks Eileen.  "What's that?" 

Elkins smiles at her gently, almost pityingly.

"Why," she says.  "That he was the most appalling hypocrite, of 
course."


*************

Elkins 

*********************************************************************

REFERENCES:

Oedipus committed his act of parridice at a "trivium," a place where 
three roads meet.

The CRAB CUSTARD Manifesto: message #37476

Crouch as Tragic Hero: message #45402

Also referenced or cited: #37574, #37769, #37781, #43010 and many of 
its downthread responses, #43447, #44636, #45662, #45693.  One line 
of Eileen's dialogue swiped shamelessly from off-list correspondence.

JOdel's message #45662 outlines her pet "the Pensieve Four conspired 
to bring down Crouch" speculation.  Although this theory is obviously 
incompatable with my own interpretation of the timeline of events, I 
am nonetheless exceptionally fond of it.

On How Dangerous Buried Things Can Be: for a discussion of the motif 
of burial (as well as parricide!) in GoF, see also message #38398.

For further explanation of the acronyms and theories in this post, 
visit Hypothetic Alley at
http://www.i2k.com/~svderark/lexicon/faq/ 
and Inish Alley at
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPforGrownups/database?
method=reportRows&tbl=13