Last night’s episode of True Blood was an obvious homage to Shakespearean notions of the Forest. A world filled without rules, which character depart into to exercise their darkest desires. Without the constraints of society, in the comforting sanctity of trees and creaks and shit, vampires and faeries can fuck to their heart’s content. Balls-swinging, butt-bumpin’ mossy bark grindin’ fucking.
Consider: It is within the Forest that Jason and Jessica can begin to consummate their relationship. After drinking down the vampire blood, Jason is clearly beginning to be in league with the chesty, voluptuous redhead. After all, how can you not begin to fall in love with someone after you have consumed some of their essence? Hoyt be damned, how can you begin to kill the bourgeoning love between two characters connected by hemoglobin? You can’t.
By entering the forest, the two of them can begin to explore this relationship. There are no boundaries that set them apart, nothing of the sort of social constructions that suggests that a yokel in his mid to late 20’s and a gorgeous newly-minted vampire can’t be together. This is the Forest. Shit happens here man.
Eventually the two of them separate, not even the allure of the boundless boundaries of the frolicking Forest enough for them to consummate their romance. Not yet. Jason runs from the freedom of the Forest, returning to the confines of Bon Temps. Away from the world where his every sensation is permitted. The Forest.
Consider: Alcide and that yokel lady of his. Debbie? Debbie. Yeah sure, Debbie it is. Within the parameters of the most blasé of social constructions, the American Dream, they’re wilting. Staggering under the pressures of trying to execute the designs for Living As A Happy family, they have begun to fray at the edges. Debbie wants to run with the pack, man. Alcide is straining to contain his perfect little dream. We only see them within the White Picketed House. Trying to pull off playing the part of happy girlfriend and boyfriend. All they need is a couple of kids and I’d say a dog but they’re fucking werewolves.
They’re withering under these pressures, but in this episode you see them together happy within the Forest. They’re off to go meet with their Wolf Pack full of furry friends. Once there they can shed both their literal clothing as they transform into werewolves, and also the constricts of their domestic life.
The only snag comes with Alcide and Debbie run into Sookie within the sylvan paradise. As they’re walking to their little gathering of wolves they come across Sookie. Alcide senses his own arousal within this wall-less paradise. He notes that the only thing stopping him from getting with Sookie is the concepts of fidelity and monogamy that The Man have imposed upon him. Yet, what world is that of the man? Certainly not that of the Forest.
Consider Finally: Sookie and Eric fucking it out in the Forest. His bare Viking ass shuddering as he slowly enters the Faerie pot of gold. Where did this take place? The Forest. Do you think this is some sort of coincidence that the forbidden relationship is consummated within the Forest? Pshaw! I laugh at your banal interpretation of such a deep and layered show. No, no, no. It has to happen within the Forest. The only place that could sanction such a rules-defying relationship. To think that they could have laid down and got their fuck on within Sookie’s house is ludicrous.
Eric and Sookie are first and foremost a faerie and a vampire. This sort of communion was frowned upon when Bill got wit dat ass, and it is certainly frowned upon as well within this bonery. The two races at war with one another slip into the Forest to complete their forbidden tryst. Forget what the world says about them! Underneath some dandelions, with rose petals wrapping themselves around Viking Scrotum, they can persevere.
Note that Bill spared Eric’s life, and that this salvation occurred outside of Bill’s palatial mansion. It was only as Bill walked out into the perimeter of his power that he could begin to feel the overwhelming pull of such ethereal elements as love tugging at him. At the edge of, that’s right, the Forest, Bill puts aside such things as duty and revenge and pettiness and lets Eric go forth into the sanctuary of Bon Temp’s shitty swamps to stake his former girlfriend.
You have to appreciate the writers of True Blood for their effort to spend an entire episode paying homage to ecocritiscism. For daring to slough off their antiquated social commentary for a moment and to uh…undertake a social commentary of another kind. Much like Billy Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, this episode of True Blood called to a place where all the complexities of modern civilization could melt away, giving rise to a utopia where Vikings and Faeries can get wit each other like woah.
Props, true scholars. Props.