TBAY: MATCHINGARMCHAIR: the Debate Rages On (WAS: Yellow Flags and Jobberkno

[ssk7882]

No: HPFGUIDX 39033

In a darkened lecture hall deep within the bowels of the Canon Museum,
the battle rages on.  Elkins, pale and drawn with exhaustion, wipes 
her brow with a retracted yellow flag.  Cindy reclines in her seat, 
Zwieback and juice box at her side, Big Paddle at the ready.  The 
hiss from the nearby steam tunnels blends imperceptibly with the 
sound of Eloise's snores.

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

"Let's tackle the Egg first," Cindy offers.  "What's the problem 
there?"

Elkins, her voice hoarse and cracked from so many hours of 
uninterrupted speaking, leans heavily against the podium.  She raises 
her glass to take a sip of water, only to discover that she ran out 
*hours* ago.  She places the glass back down on the lectern.  She 
sighs.

"The problem with the Egg," she repeats wearily.  "Right.  The 
problem with the *Egg* is that it sounds like wailing.  It sounds 
like a musical saw.  Seamus thinks that it sounds like a banshee.  
But what it does *not* sound like is a person in pain.  Neville 
thinks that it does.  If Neville really could remember his parents' 
torture, as the Reverse Memory Charm theory suggests, then he 
wouldn't make that error.  Reverse Memory Charm therefore cannot 
hold.  Quod erat effing demonstrandum."

Cindy smiles lazily.

"Welllll," she drawls, with a kind of ghastly bonhomie. "I have some 
personal experience in this area. Over the years, I have tortured 
*many* people within an inch of their lives, and if you go at it 
*just* right, if you *really* know what you're doing, once they stop 
saying actual *words* and stop with all the *begging*, they do in 
fact make this freakish high-pitched squeal that sounds exactly..."

Cindy stops abruptly, frowning. A dead silence has fallen over the
room.  Naama, careful to avoid meeting anyone's eyes, gathers up her
things quickly but quietly and moves back towards the emergency exit.
Cindy glances at her briefly, then back at Elkins, who has gone a 
trifle pale.  She smiles.

"People, people, people!" she laughs. "The Egg is Not A Problem for 
MATCHINGARMCHAIR."

"Um."  Elkins fiddles nervously with the papers in front of her.  "Um.
Yes.  Well.  I'm, uh, sure that we're all very pleased, Cindy -- 
really, really very pleased and very, er, *grateful* -- to have been 
given the opportunity to, uh, learn something new here tonight.  But 
all the same, I really do think that--"

"The Egg's wail is described as "the most horrible noise,'" Cindy 
points out.  "'A loud and screechy wailing" like the ghost orchestra 
at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party playing musical saws. When 
Harry opens the Egg in the bathtub, the wailing, screeching sound is 
described as 'incomprehensible.' When Harry drops it on the stairs, 
it again is said to sound like 'wailing.'"

"Yes."  Elkins nods, just a bit too fervently.  "Yes, well, all right 
then.  Let's just take a *look* at that word choice, shall we?"

"The Egg *wails,*" she agrees.  "That is the primary descriptor of 
the sound that it makes.  JKR uses it twice.  So where in canon do we 
see people 'wailing?'"

"Well, Hermione wails, doesn't she?  She wails quite often.  But 
whenever we see her 'wailing,' it is always a bit of hyperbole that 
JKR is using to convey her exasperation.  She wails when she is 
objecting to something, or when she is throwing her hands up in the 
air at the boys' stupidity, or when she is making some despairing 
comment or other.  But one time that she *never* wails?  Hermione 
does not wail when she is in *pain.*"

Elkins bangs her palm down on the lectern for emphasis, then winces.

"Ow," she mutters.  "In fact," she continues, massaging her 
wrist.  "In fact, nobody does.  Wailing is just not what people in 
the Potterverse *do* when they are in pain.  It's certainly not what 
we ever see anyone do under the Cruciatus Curse.  Cedric 'yells,' and 
Harry 'screams,' and Avery 'shrieks.'  Pettigrew does a lot of 
sobbing. But nobody ever *wails.*"

"So," she concludes, "while it may indeed be the case that in your, 
uh, real-life experience, people can indeed be reduced to 
incomprehensible wailing by, uh, by long-term exposure to 
excruciating agony, I really do think that in order to evaluate this
as a speculation, we need to go by JKR's *own* word choices, and the 
fact remains that in the Potterverse--"

"And what does the cry of the tiny Jobberknoll sound like?" Cindy
interrupts hurredly.  "'A long scream made up of every sound it ever 
heard, regurgitated backward.' Gee, that might sound a lot like a 
horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing that would be 
*incomprehensible*."

"What?"  Elkins stares at her.  "What?  You...Oh.  Oh, right, yes, I 
see.  So Neville's great and glorious Reverse Memory Charm doesn't 
even lead him to remember his parents being *tortured?*  All he's got 
is this memory of some *bird* being strangled?  Oh, yeah."  She 
snorts.  "That's *very* exciting, Cindy.  Real Bangy."

"The Egg's screeching," Cindy continues, through gritted teeth.  "The 
Egg's *screeching* sounds to Neville just like the death scream of 
the Jobberknoll. No wonder poor Neville likens it to the sound of 
someone being tortured! The Jobberknoll death rattle is what Neville 
is reacting to in that scene in GoF, not the actual cries of his 
parents, which would be *plenty* comprehensible."

"You just said yourself that they *wouldn't* be comprehensible!" 
objects Elkins. "Not five *minutes* ago, Cindy.  You said that..."  
She shakes her head.  "Oh, for God's sake.  This is just ludicrous.  
Right.  Okay.  So what's your answer to the Dementor problem, 
then?  'Cause I gotta tell you, I just can't *wait* to hear 
this one."

Cindy narrows her eyes at this, but when she speaks, her tone is 
remarkably civil.

"Ah," she says.  "That's not a problem either, because that is 
exactly as it should be. I challenge the premise that Neville should 
have a more severe reaction than Harry. Neville watched his parents 
tortured, not killed. He still goes to see them. And nothing in canon 
suggests that Neville's life was ever in danger that night."

Elkins stares.  Her mouth opens and shuts soundlessly, making her 
look for all the world like one of those salt-water carp which can 
occasionally be found stranded at low-tide in the rocky pools of 
Theory Bay.

"Harry and Ginny react more than Neville to the dementor on the 
train," concludes Cindy cheerfully, "because they both survived near-
death experiences at the hands of Voldemort, whereas Neville merely 
witnessed an atrocity."

"I...I...I..."  Elkins shakes her head rapidly, like a dog shaking 
off water. "I..."  She takes a very deep breath.

"ARE YOU COMPLETELY OUT OF YOUR *MIND*?" she shrieks, seemingly 
oblivious to the fact that she has just slipped into one of her very 
least favorite aspects of JKR's chosen idiom.  "WHAT ARE YOU 
*TALKING* ABOUT?  ARE YOU *INSANE?*  YOU THINK THAT A COUPLE OF 
ABRUPTLY-CUT OFF SCREAMS AND A RUSHING NOISE AND A FLASH OF GREEN 
LIGHT IS A WORSE MEMORY THAN--"  

"Nah."  Cindy grins. "The Dementor on the train is no trouble. No 
trouble at all.  So . . . will you convert, Elkins? A deal's a deal, 
right?"

"Con..convert?" splutters Elkins.  "*Convert?*  On the basis of 
*those* arguments?  On the basis of those, those ridiculous displays 
of...of, of, of, of *sophistry,* of pure and utter...you can...you 
think that I'm actually going to..."

Elkins stops suddenly, her mouth still open.  She blinks, twice.  
Then she begins to laugh.  She collapses over her podium, giggling 
hysterically.  Cindy, suspicious, narrows her eyes.

"Oh!" gasps Elkins, at length.  "Oh, yes.  Yes, yes.  I see.  Dear 
Cindy."  She shakes her head.  "Cindy, Cindy, Cindy."

Cindy stops gnawing on her Zwieback.  She wipes the sodden cracker 
from her lips, frowning.

"It's all *right,* Cindy," Elkins tells her.  "It's okay.  I really 
do think I understand.  But you know, it's not the end of the world
when this happens.  Really it's not.  It's very simple, really.  
All you need to do here is to say these four little words.  That's 
all.  Four words. 'I.' 'Concede.' 'The.' 'Point.'  It really doesn't 
*hurt,* you know, to say those four little words.  Trust me: I ought 
to know.  Heaven knows I've said them often enough myself.  And 
besides," she adds, apparently not noticing the dangerous throbbing 
that has started up in the vein in Cindy's right temple.  "You didn't 
really want to run with that Reverse Memory Charm thing anyway, you 
know.  I mean, sure, it was kind of cute and all, but even aside from 
the fact that it was canonically indefensible on far less subtle 
grounds, it wasn't even ever all that Bangy, now, was it?"

Cindy stares at her.  Her knuckles whiten on her paddle.

"What?" she whispers.  "What did you just say to me?"

"The Reverse *Memory* Charm," Elkins repeats helpfully.  "It was 
actually never all that Bangy to begin with.  It didn't offer any 
opportunities for a Great Character-changing Catalyst, or for a 
Shocking Revelation, or for a Mind-Blowing Plot Twist, or for an 
Oscar-worthy Cinematic Moment, or *any* of that. In fact," she 
concludes.  "In fact, I don't think that the Reverse Memory Charm 
ever belonged on the Big Bang Destroyer at all. I say that it's a 
*Dud,* and should be stowed away in the hold until it can prove its 
merit."

There is a brief silence.  

"Oh lord," Debbie murmers, and slides down very low in her seat.  
Avery, sitting next to her, nods grimly to himself and Disapparates.

"What," Cindy demands, her voice pitched dangerously low.  "Is the 
meaning of this? Did I hear *correctly*? Is this an ill-conceived 
*mutiny* on the Big Bang Destroyer? A blatant attempt to throw the 
Captain into the brig, MATCHINGARMCHAIR and all?"

"Well, actually," Elkins begins.  "Technically, you know, Cindy, 
since I don't think that I was ever actually a crew-member of the Big 
Bang destroyer, I don't really think that this can properly be called 
a--"

"It has come to this, has it? This challenge -- from the Captain of 
the Fourth Man Hovercraft of all things! The Hovercraft that is in 
such bad condition, such disrepair, that it is *coated* in foul 
seagull droppings. The Hovercraft that has been left to drift, 
rudderless, as Judy, Debbie and even Eileen's *brother* attempt to 
capsize it just for the sport of it?"

Elkins recoils as if slapped.  Two spots of red appear high on her 
cheekbones.

"Oh, now, *hey*!" she objects indignantly.  "Hey, now, come on.  I 
mean, just hold *on.*  You know perfectly well that I couldn't 
possibly have gone anywhere near that hovercraft, not back then, not 
with all of those canonical villains still out there gunning for me 
and Avery.  Didn't you read message #36675?  I mean, I was a marked 
*woman,* Cindy.  Surely you didn't honestly expect me to hang around 
just waiting for trouble?  And besides, it's not as if I hadn't 
already provided Fourth Man with *plenty* of canon to--"

"And now," Cindy sneers.  "Now Elkins, the Captain of the pitiful, 
neglected Hovercraft, dares declare which theories belong on the Big 
Bang Destroyer?!? Oh, this is far worse than spraypainted graffiti, 
far worse than the odd seashell tossing, far worse than murdering 
Pig, Erroll and Hedwig. . . . This time, Elkins has gone *Too Far*!"

Cindy launches herself out of her seat.  Eloise's pet hedgehog dives 
under her chair.  Naama swings open the emergency exit.  Elkins gulps 
and grips the edges of her lectern, hard.

"Oh, wow," says Stoned!Harry, fumbling to prepare his Shield 
Charm.  "Guys, like, maybe you should just chill *out,* yeah?  I 
mean, like, it's only a children's boo--" 

"Let me tell you something!" screams Cindy, spit flying from the 
corners of her lips.  "I have been Banging since before you were 
*born*! I am the *Queen* of Banging!"

Stoned!Harry starts to giggle idiotically.  Elkins closes her eyes, 
but thankfully, Cindy seems not to have noticed.

"Reverse Memory Charm Neville is Bangy if I *say* he is!" she shrieks.

"If you *say* he is?"  Elkins opens her eyes again.  "If you *say* he 
is?" she repeats incredulously.  "What, you're claiming for yourself 
the right to redefine Bang whenever it suits your purposes now?  Bang 
is no longer a means of evaluating canonical plausibility?  It's now
a matter of pure personal *preference?*  You're...you're what?  
You're Humpty Dumptying the Bangs?"

"Humpty Dumptying the Bangs?" repeats Debbie blankly from her seat.  
Nobody pays her any mind. 

"And I can prove it!" yells Cindy, waving her paddle wildly in the 
air.  "What's the future Bang with every one of the Memory Charm 
Neville variants? Hmmmm? That the Charm will be removed? And? So? 
What? Neville cries his little eyes out when he finally remembers 
what happened? He gets a little *snippy* with Gran? He sleeps past 
noon for a few days? That's it? That's all you've got?"

"But, but, but," Elkins objects.  "But that's not what Bang *means.*  
It's...and besides," she continues, her voice now rising to something 
very like a yell itself.  "Didn't you even *listen* to my symposium?
Weren't you even paying *attention?*  Of *course* they have Bang!  
They all give you an abrupt character change based on a catalytic 
plot event!  And they're cinematic, too!  They're plenty cinematic!
Which *precise* cinematic effect you get from the Big Bang all 
depends on which one you *go* for!"  She steps out from behind her 
podium, brandishing a handful of papers.  "Look," she says.  "Just 
look.  There's--" 

"Well, I'll have you know that with Reverse Memory Charm Neville, we 
get *multiple* Bangs," interrupts Cindy. "We get a huge scene where 
Harry finally asks Neville about what happened the night the 
Longbottoms were tortured and Neville tells the whole gruesome tale 
in excruciating detail."

Elkins pauses, half-way down the steps of the platform.  Her lip 
curls in disdain.

"Oh," she sneers.  "Oh, yes, I *see.*  This is now Cindy's idea of 
Bang, is it?  This is the Great and Powerful Captain Cindy's idea of 
an Exciting Cinematic Moment?"  

"*Dialogue?*"

"Dialogue.  A conversation.  A *Confessional.*  A 'This Time, On 
Oprah' moment.  Ooooooh," Elkins simpers in a high nasty 
falsetto.  "Will Neville and Harry talk about their 
*feeeeeeeeeeeelings,* Cindy?  Will Harry go and make Neville a nice
comforting cup of *tea?*  Hand him a *hankie,* perhaps?  Tell 
him, 'Oh, Neville, how I feel your pain?  For I, too, come from a 
tragically-broken home, and I too have never known the comfort and 
support of a warm and loving family?'  And then, maybe once they're 
done with all of that *delving,* they can share a Great Big Hug?  And 
then go on to talk about which *girls* they like, perhaps?"

"Pah!" spits Elkins.  "Pah!  That's not *Bang,* Cindy.  That's *girl 
stuff!* It's a chick flick!  It's an after-school special!  It's a 
soap opera!  It's a Kaffee Klatsch!  It is just plain *Weak,* is what 
it is.  It.  Is.  A.  DUD!"

Cindy raises her paddle, snarling, but Elkins snatches it right out 
of her hands.
 
"Now, a Memory Charm Theory," she says, brandishing the paddle 
menacingly. "A Memory Charm Theory can give you a *real* Bang.  
Something cracks Neville's memory charm, and POW!  Change!  Sudden, 
abrupt and catalytic *change!*  What does Reverse Memory Charm have 
to offer?  Nothing, that's what!  No change worthy of being deemed 
Big and Bangy is *possible* with a Reverse Memory Charm because 
Neville.  Already.  Remembers.  Everything!"

Cindy mutters something under her breath about Neville finally 
standing up to Snape.

"Ah, but what *leads* Neville to this sudden desire to assert 
himself?" demands Elkins.  "What brings *about* this change?  Must I 
remind you, Cindy, of your very own canonical defense for this 
theory?  That JKR always prefers to show her secondary characters 
changing course only in response to Big, melodramatic, and *discrete* 
life-altering events? Must I really be the one to remind you that the 
Big Bang Destroyer's engines run only on *catalytic* converters?

"It's not the Road to Damascus itself, but the *vision* on the Road 
to Damascus that constitutes the Big Bang, so where is the *catalyst* 
here?  Where is the Event, the singular, discrete, cinematic and Big 
and Bangy *Event* that is supposed to lead to this sudden change in 
canonical behavior? What leads Neville to change in this so-called 
Bangy theory of yours?  Self-reflection?  A gradual process of 
maturity?  Last Strawism?  Those are not Big and Bangy.  Bangy means 
that something *happens* to cause the change. Something abrupt, 
something dramatic, something sudden.  POW!"

Elkins slams the paddle down on the seat in front of her, causing a
cloud of dust to rise into the air.

"Bang!" she shouts.  "Something *happens,* something specific, and
then the character is never the same again!  That is what Bang 
*means.* Bang is Neville suddenly regaining his memory, and then 
launching himself across the Hogwarts campus, wand out and lip drawn 
back in a snarl, gritting 'My name is Neville Longbottom.  You 
Crucio'd my parents. Prepare to die,' while Harry and Ron *and* 
Hermione hang all over him, trying to hold him back and not being 
able to because he is Just So Pissed!  Bang is Neville using his last 
dying breath to gasp out his hidden secret knowledge to grappling-on-
the-catwalk-over-the-pit-of-hot-lava Harry!  Bang is Neville rushing 
in at the last possible minute to scream, 'No!  Harry!  Don't trust 
him!  He's EVIL!'  Bang is Neville blasting his Gran into a million 
tiny lavender-water-scented pieces in a fit of mad *anguish!*  Bang 
is Neville pointing his finger at Moody, whom JKR has tricked us all 
into trusting yet *again,* and screaming 'J'accuse!'  These things 
have Bang, Cindy, because they are *sudden!*  They happen *abruptly!
*  But Reverse Memory Charm does not have that!  All that Reverse
Memory Charm can give us is *gradual* change, and gradual change does
not qualify as Bang, because it takes a single, abrupt, and 
*discrete* catalyst to make a speculation Big and Bangy!"

Elkins stalks up to the podium and swings hard at the lectern.  There
is a terrible splintering noise.

"Reverse," she screams, swinging madly at the pages of lecture notes
now drifting down about her like snow as she makes her way back down
to the front row.  "Memory."  Elkins smashes the paddle down on the 
seat Cindy has vacated.  Droplets of grape juice and Zwieback crumbs 
fly into the air.  "Charm."  She swings the paddle once more at the 
seat.  It breaks in half on the back of the uncomfortable metal 
chair.  "Is," she bellows, gripping the haft of her now splintered 
paddle with both hands and crouching low, aiming its pointed end 
right at Cindy's throat.  "A.  DUD!!!!!"

There is a very long silence.  Cindy and Elkins stare at each other,
breathing hard.  The last of Elkins' lecture notes slowly drifts 
downwards, to land on the floor between them.  The heading "No 
Suppressed Memory At All" is written in tiny cramped handwriting 
across the top of the page.

Elkins blinks.  She glances blankly down at the broken paddle in her 
hands.

"You, uh, see," she says hoarsely.  "You see.  You see.  When a 
character who has been carefully established, over the course of many 
pages of narrative, to be rather timid, really, you know: 
ameliorating, non-confrontational, always eager -- perhaps even, one 
might say, a tad too eager -- to seek consensus rather than opting 
for open conflict...when you have a character like *that,* one who 
has already been shown to be a little bit neurotic, really, even 
perhaps a bit *pathological* when it comes to his aversion to open 
confrontation...when you have this character who does seem to have a 
most unfortunate tendency to get himself, you know, bullied and 
insulted and pushed around by all of the more aggressive 
personalities out there, then naturally we all understand that it 
makes perfect psychological sense for there to be no *particular* 
catalyst leading him to finally snap.  We all *understand* that the 
gradual accrual of insult and intimidation and abuse and suppressed 
*rage* might just eventually become a Bit Too Much.  The notion of 
the Final Straw That Broke The Camel's Back is not an alien one to 
us, either in life or in fiction.  And of course," she adds, 
straightening slowly.  "I mean, naturally, that can be immensely 
dramatically *satisfying*.  It can be cinematic.  It can even be 
quite cathartic."

Elkins glances down once more at her broken paddle, then hands it 
back to Cindy, who accepts it wordlessly.  She reaches up to 
straighten her spectacles.

"But it's still not Bang," she says quietly.  "That's not what Bang 
means. Bang means something slightly different."

Elkins turns on one heel and walks back to what remains of the 
podium.  She bends down to pick a manilla envelope off the floor. 

"Of course," she says, as she gathers up the crumpled pages of her 
lecture notes, cramming them one by one in the envelope.  "As you 
know, I'm hoping for a somewhat different resolution for Neville 
myself.  Because for one thing, I'm a pacifist.  And for another..."

She gazes helplessly out over the wreckage of the lecture hall, then 
shrugs and tosses the envelope back down onto the floor.  She walks 
to the door.

"For another," she sighs.  "I've never really been all that big a fan 
of Bang anyway."

Elkins opens the door, then pauses at the threshold.  She glances 
back over her shoulder into the darkened lecture hall.

"Not like you, Cindy," she says.  And leaves the room.

Smiling slightly.




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


-- Elkins


For an explanation of the acronyms and theories in this post, visit
Hypothetic Alley at 
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPforGrownups/files/Admin20Files/hypothe
ticalley.htm 

and Inish Alley at 
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPforGrownups/database?
method=reportRows&tbl=13