[Black Swan] (PG-13)
Oct. 9th, 2012 10:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mtxref_ficAuthor's Note: Written for Black Swan, Nina/Lily, The Red Shoes. Lily's POV, as if she's telling this to a confidante. Strong language and faery tale dark things discussed.
There was this movie I saw as a kid, a ballet movie, Moira Shearer played the lead, I think. Anyway, they based it off this faery tale: Hans Christian Anderson, maybe. The Red Shoes: they even gave it that title. Story was updated: bye-bye, nameless European city, hello, Hollywood. No faery godmother, but there was a hot-shot producer and a manic choreographer. It wasn't what got me into ballet, but it helped me: I just made sure no one used me. I've always been my own girl, living my life, having fun, not letting any man treat me like their little princess.
Not like Nina. Not that it makes her a bad kid: she's really a good one. Maybe too good. Not that she can help it: I know her kind, so used to kissing up to people that they ain't got an original thought of their own. They'll take the Red Shoes and strap them right on, not paying attention to the price they're paying. Dancing away at the bidding of the shoes, till they're wearing themselves out with stress, with having to be Princess Perfect.
I know I'm not perfect. I've known it all along. And I'm fine with that. Perfection is as much a faery tale as any of Hans Christian's stories. Yeah, you can improve, but if you try and be perfect, you're going to burn yourself out, dance yourself to death. Not unless you find a kind woodsman to cut your feet off and make you some wooden feet.
Yeah, they didn't put that in the movie. I've read the story. Makes Grimm's Faery Tales look like Disney, though Disney's really pretty dark, too, just not the same kind of dark.
Nina's bright, but she's not smart, or shes's been dumbed down, or let herself get dumbed down, just to fit in. Cut your toes off to fit the glass slipper. Damn, wrong faery tale. She'd sooner dance herself to death than get herself some help. Drove herself nuts, burning herself out like that, trying to please the teacher. Barely eating, letting the men over her twist her around their fingers -- or some other poky-out body part -- so she'll feel wanted. So they'll tell her they're perfect.
And then the fantasies started: I mean, I know I'm good-looking and fun to be with, and I've had girlfriends as well as boyfriends. I don't mind people looking at me and imagining things, but coming from her, it was a bit weird. Like your adopted little sister getting the hots for you. It's kinda creepy. I wouldn't mind giving someone like her a good time, but... I guess 'cause I felt bad for her. I'd've helped her, but it was too late: she'd danced herself into exhaustion. I'm told she's in a vegetative state, thanks to a brain tumor: seems it's wedged in there damn good, so they're gonna have a bitch of a time digging it out.
I hope for her own sake, they can fix it. Shame that it'd happen to a talented kid like her.
There was this movie I saw as a kid, a ballet movie, Moira Shearer played the lead, I think. Anyway, they based it off this faery tale: Hans Christian Anderson, maybe. The Red Shoes: they even gave it that title. Story was updated: bye-bye, nameless European city, hello, Hollywood. No faery godmother, but there was a hot-shot producer and a manic choreographer. It wasn't what got me into ballet, but it helped me: I just made sure no one used me. I've always been my own girl, living my life, having fun, not letting any man treat me like their little princess.
Not like Nina. Not that it makes her a bad kid: she's really a good one. Maybe too good. Not that she can help it: I know her kind, so used to kissing up to people that they ain't got an original thought of their own. They'll take the Red Shoes and strap them right on, not paying attention to the price they're paying. Dancing away at the bidding of the shoes, till they're wearing themselves out with stress, with having to be Princess Perfect.
I know I'm not perfect. I've known it all along. And I'm fine with that. Perfection is as much a faery tale as any of Hans Christian's stories. Yeah, you can improve, but if you try and be perfect, you're going to burn yourself out, dance yourself to death. Not unless you find a kind woodsman to cut your feet off and make you some wooden feet.
Yeah, they didn't put that in the movie. I've read the story. Makes Grimm's Faery Tales look like Disney, though Disney's really pretty dark, too, just not the same kind of dark.
Nina's bright, but she's not smart, or shes's been dumbed down, or let herself get dumbed down, just to fit in. Cut your toes off to fit the glass slipper. Damn, wrong faery tale. She'd sooner dance herself to death than get herself some help. Drove herself nuts, burning herself out like that, trying to please the teacher. Barely eating, letting the men over her twist her around their fingers -- or some other poky-out body part -- so she'll feel wanted. So they'll tell her they're perfect.
And then the fantasies started: I mean, I know I'm good-looking and fun to be with, and I've had girlfriends as well as boyfriends. I don't mind people looking at me and imagining things, but coming from her, it was a bit weird. Like your adopted little sister getting the hots for you. It's kinda creepy. I wouldn't mind giving someone like her a good time, but... I guess 'cause I felt bad for her. I'd've helped her, but it was too late: she'd danced herself into exhaustion. I'm told she's in a vegetative state, thanks to a brain tumor: seems it's wedged in there damn good, so they're gonna have a bitch of a time digging it out.
I hope for her own sake, they can fix it. Shame that it'd happen to a talented kid like her.
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Date: 2012-10-10 03:01 am (UTC)Thank you.