In my search an article on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, I expected to find something that would either bore me to tears or render me livid: a scathing review about Buffy’s ditziness destroying feminism and pleather pants for everyone or a Twilight-induced vampire-worship snoozefest with sixteen different references to Nosferatu. I was pleasantly surprised when I stumbled upon joyous ode to one of my favorite characters from a group of my favorite people in the world. And by that cryptic statement, I am of course referring to Giles and that wonderful cultural subset, the barons of the bibliotecas: the librarians.
The piece I oh-so-gleefully came across in JSTOR, found quite appropriately in “American Libraries” is entitled “Bibliographic Good vs. Evil in Buffy the Vampire Slayer”. From the get go, author/librarian GraceAnne DeCandido (of course) reveals Giles to be what she defines as a “SuperLibrarian”, the perfect role model for those special creatures who find their home among the stacks. Giles, according to DeCandido, is a “hero librarian”, a “librarian model who is elegant, deeply educated, well (if fussily) dressed, handsome, and charged with eroticism” (45). While I appreciate he has become a bit of a sex symbol, the most important insight into Giles’ character, the role he plays as a librarian who “lives in the faith that answers can be found, and most often found in the pages of a book” (45). The obvious bias of this article aside, (although I find the bias adorable—who knew librarians had heroes? Is it like professors finding an idol in Indiana Jones?) I appreciate the acknowledgement of Giles’ purpose as the conduit between the world of knowledge and the world of action.
The episode Tabula Rasa reveals the importance of knowledge over action. When Willow enacts her magic crystal spell, she erases the foundation of knowledge that Giles has set forth. In the episode lies a commentary on the nature of action and relationships, a seemingly anti-Giles world based on instinctual attachment and irreversible roles. Yet somehow, even in a world in which the characters build their identities around their emotions (i.e. Giles’ strong feeling of disappointment in his son “Randy”), they eventually understand the importance of books in finding out the solution to their problem. Giles and Anya’s comical yet telling search through the books, as well as Giles’ emphasis on a empirical method in finding a the very best book not only reasserts knowledge as equally important as the action of the story, but need to classify and understand the action.
While I do not share exactly the same degree of hero-worship as DeCandido for the ever-sexy Rupert Giles (Finally, I admit it. He’s gosh darn adorable.) I have come to appreciate his role in the series as not only the bridge between knowledge and action, but a nod to the traditional gothic archetype: the occult doctor. Giles as a watcher is the Van Helsing of Buffy: foreign, smart and constantly aware of the threat that surrounds them. As a different, more “stodgy” nationality, Giles not only bridges the gap between Europe and America, but he bridges the gap between the traditional gothic and the gothic of the 90’s as seen in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
And he looks fantastic in tweed.
DeCandido, GraceAnne. "Bibliographic Good vs. Evil in Buffy the Vampire Slayer." American Libraries 30.8 (1999): 44-47. JSTOR. Web. 14 Oct. 20
Firstly, we all know how I feel about Giles. I was the first to cyber-declare my love, so back off Bex.
ReplyDeleteSecondly. I love the dichotomy between knowledge and action. That's something that I think applies to most of the Gothic we have seen thus far. Both Stoker and LeFanu's characters have to learn the realities of the vampire before they can defeat them.
Thirdly, I called dibs. Seriously.
Fourth, "charged with eroticism." Ye-ow
ReplyDeleteNow that we've read and discussed Northanger Abbey, though, I'm thinking that it's important to also analyze HOW something is read just in addition to WHAT is read. We've said that Catherine Morland can read texts but not people, (until her transformation toward the end of the novel) and thus she is actually MISreading those texts. I think there's something to be said for heralding knowledge over action, but it has to be the right knowledge. For example, I'm thinking of the scene when Anya keeps reciting the wrong incantations out of the book, only to create (to her horror) more bunnies.