Okay so I know we talk a lot about how Armand is obsessive, and we talk a lot about Daniel and his trains and how he’s trying to build this tiny world that’s safe and contained and controlled because he’s too overwhelmed by the real world… but can we also discuss the fact that Lestat literally builds life-sized replicas of the periods in his life when he was most happy???
I mean, I know a lot of people don’t accept PL/ROA as a canon basis for characterisation for Lestat, and tbh I get that, but this isn’t just new canon, this is a thing Lestat does.
Immediately after he rises from having been underground, after the whole Akasha debacle blows over, as soon as he has a chance to sort of settle down after that, what does he do? He builds a fucking museum to That One Time He Was Happy With His Ex. He even conceals the modern appliances to make it look authentic! And then he gets his ex to move into it with him again. :’)
Old sport.
I mean, I guess we already know that Lestat writes books because he’s looking to inject some meaning into the meaningless series of events that constitutes a life, so in that context it’s not surprising that he’d want to organise his physical surroundings. And after all the shit that went down with him in QotD, tbh, I understand him wanting a bit of familiarity. Plus he’s literally hallucinating Claudia’s ghost throughout TotBT, so he’s not exactly stable. But it’s still interesting and sad if this is his coping mechanism. (And tbh it’s really interesting how much he and Louis live in the past (literally! *shot*) compared to some of the other vampires in the coven.)
Now I’m just wondering if we can posit an architectural scale of Lestat’s well-being. Renovating: he’s doing good. Reconstructing his old flat: he’s struggling. Reconstructing an entire village complete with château: someone call Gabrielle.
^Very much agreed! I do think he likes to repeat the past, for sure. It makes sense to recreate happier times., especially in times of anxiety about the present/future. I do think Lestat digs deeper into the memory albums of his past happy times when he’s in a bad place mentally, for sure.
I would also add that Lestat is a very big fan of retail therapy, whether he’s conscious of it being therapy or not.Everything about buying stuff, flirting with the salesppl, bossing around the construction ppl, getting things delivered and opening tons of packages, feeling like he’s upgrading things, it’s all therapeutic. He’s doing self-care.
He does it to ppl, too, like when he’s berating Louis for his threadbare clothes. Lestat dresses himself nicely to make up for all that time when he was poor and couldn’t afford (and possibly didn’t feel he deserved) any better than threadbare clothes. Unless he was wearing a costume for the stage, flashy and attractive to the audience, and being loved by that audience (which taught him that playing a role and being sparkly and attractive would win him the affection he craved and couldn’t get just by being himself). Or borrowing his lover’s red velvet frock coat, far fancier than anything Lestat had ever owned up until that point, and it probably smelled like Nicolas, and that felt good, too.
For Lestat, gifts are love. Gabrielle parted with her heirloom jewels to buy him a better life. She bought him hunting equipment, upgrades to help him do what he already did. The mastiff pups, the mare, those were some of the first gifts he received that loved him back. From the villagers, he received gifts for slaying the wolves: a good sturdy (and fashionable!) cloak, and a new pair of boots. Upgrades that were both functional and had pleasing form to him.
^Sorry for the cheesy gif, but I do think Lestat has a need to return to places and exorcise his demons there. Reclaiming the space. He probably does it as idiotically as Ace Ventura sometimes *eyeroll*
He revamps (ok pun intended) the Rue Royale and his castle in the Auvergne as an act of cleansing it of the demons and bad memories. The castle of his childhood was cold, dark, bare, inadequate, he was beaten there, repeatedly. It was a place of suffering. He might have lived out his life and died there. So now that he has the $ and the power to do so, he rigs it with heating, electricity, and loads it with fancy furnishings, making it a place he can possibly build new memories, better times ❤
He almost died in the Rue Royale, how must it feel to walk through a room that you once lay dying, bleeding out on the floor? On your way to pop a DVD into a player instead? And then go back to the couch and curl up under a blanket with the lover who had done nothing but stand by as you felt yourself pass out of consciousness? No animosity now. The place has been reborn.
I would also add that AR did this in TVL, too, with Nicolas revamping (pun intended again) Renaud’s into the ~Theatre of the Vampires~: “The Theater of the Vampires,” [Lestat] whispered. “We have worked the Dark Trick on this little place.”
Look, look! There’s a new post at Gothic Charm School, and it’s the holiday gift guide! Full of links to interesting artists and companies that you should buy goodies from!
(Let me use more exclamation points! They work like coffee, right?!!)
//Consider: 21st century Louis and Lestat going to Ikea to furnish their apartment. They can’t agree on anything and spend most of the precious few hours between sundown and closing time arguing because Lestat wants to buy every modern and flashy item in the store while Louis just wants a simple armchair to sit and read his books in peace but oh my god Louis look there’s an egg-shaped chair that spins and it even has a canopy over it! Lestat then actually tries to fit himself into this child-sized chair while Louis proceeds to have a migraine. Lestat drags Louis, who just wants to sit down for one goddamned second, along through the entire labyrinthine place, exclaiming over every colorful, avant-garde object. Louis is certain he’s seen that hideous bookshelf four times already and it’s either following them or he’s actually losing his mind. Lestat has gone starry-eyed currently surrounded by a collection of amorphous accent pieces which are beginning to look positively ominous. Somewhere along the line they pass a vaguely phallic-shaped rug which just adds to the feeling that they’ve entered some sort of cursed liminal space and nothing really feels real anymore and thank god or whatever powers exist when they finally get kicked out at closing time before they actually become trapped here by some unknowable force of madness.
♛I think they are very real and they cause suffering for those who carry them.
Depression is a familiar emotion for me. I saw it in my Nicolas and ignored the signs, thinking I could fill the void he carried within him because he meant absolutely everything to me. He might have even led me to believe I was helping him, but when he could no longer play along, well… that was the end of us.
I’ve known depression. I wouldn’t know if it’s the “normal” amount we’re meant to experience as opposed to the deeper kind Science has discovered; more to do with brain chemistry than anything else… but mine was a sludge that seeped out to greet me whenever I returned home as a mortal boy, to a family that ignored me at best, and physically beat me on a regular basis at worst. A terrible, sinking feeling.
I felt it when I found out about Nicolas’ death.
I felt it when my mother, my only companion, disappeared one night without leaving any way to contact her again.
I felt it when I looked into my daughter’s crystal blue eyes and no longer recognized her.
I felt it when I had been essentially murdered and left for dead. More than once. Physically and psychologically broken, cocooned in a derelict old shelter, barely able to feed, embracing the dust and the moldy floorboards for months at a time. Self-imposed solitary confinement. Prisoners at least have their meals delivered to them.
The road to recovery from all those and more has not been easy. I am still drawn back down that spiral by a phantom Vaudeville hook, always hovering just off-stage for me. Being alone, well, no one can hurt you, no one can leave you. So I understand those who choose to suffer alone.
I’m doing well now. Others in the coven tease me for my materialistic ways, and yes, this is a new pair of sunglasses. It’s less about the ownership of things and more about the ease in going out and interacting with the salespeople, the moving men, the accountants. Being out there amongst people.
Being there when Louis wants to curl up on the Italian silk couch with me under a cashmere throw. The flat screen showing us so much detail that it’s as though we truly are outside in a gondola at the magic hour, when the sunlight slants in diagonally. The waters are blue.
Life, in almost any form, is worth living, as bad as it can seem. It’s worth the effort.
I-want-my-IWTV 