The real Richard Armitage and the real me

I am writing this blog, I think, because fairly serious other things are going wrong in my life at the moment. The near-obsession I am developing with Mr. Armitage’s work is at least first and most an escapist measure, a fantasy that occasionally distracts me from bigger worries. But it also carries elements about of my work; that is, I offer close readings of texts for a living, on paper and in the classroom, and Armitage is the text that I seem to want to read most closely at the moment. Writing about him is an escape from other writing, but also an act of personal redemption. It helps my fantasy not only that I occasionally see some similarities between him and myself (the struggle to work, the fear of water!) but also that so many of the larger roles he has played have either moral conflict or redemption as a theme.

(Detour: One of the aspects of analysis of appearances is that inevitably one begins to wonder about reality. Most of what I write IRL is about history, about things that are alleged to actually have happened, but first of all, the period I study is so far in the past that it is almost impossible to grasp its “reality” in any meaningful way, and secondly, philosophically I am a sort of limited poststructuralist, so that I am at basis skeptical about “the real.” But I also live in a world where most people agree that reality exists, and I experience my own life as real even as I am skeptical about its reality. Hope that makes sense to y’all. I am trying to say that as much as I would like to leave questionsa bout reality behind, I continue to be tortured by them, both in my scholarship and in my own existence.)

So, I wonder about the relationship of the texts I read about him (whether performed or interviewed) to “the real Richard,” even as I acknowledge (see my About page) that everything I will ever experience about him is a fantasy. As my appreciation of him becomes more significant, I start to put him in places in my mind. I’ve been to Budapest and know what a kolbasz counter looks like; when I see the faded sign that says “Großhandel” on the building where the Hood Academy takes place, I can put it into geographical and historical context; I’ve exited the London tube at Leicester Square; I’ve been to the Dulwich Picture Gallery; and so on–I can see himself and myself in the same places. I can think that London is six hours ahead of my current time and imagine him sleeping in his bed. All of this growing concreteness to my fantasies worries me a bit sometimes. If I start writing fanfic, worry will be at the base of it — it will be an attempt to let the steam off of some of these fantasies. I have so much other work that it’s unlikely I’ll starting writing fiction this year, but if my fantasies about him and his characters intensify, I may not be able to stop myself.

At the same time, I fear that I am not going to be able to stop thinking about the “real” Armitage. And writing about the interface of that “real” person with the fantasy that I experience in the media and that I continue to spin out in my own head.

~ by Servetus on March 8, 2010.