This Song Is Very Rafal To Me, Like An Hourglass' Sands Running Out. It Reeks Of Desperation. There's

This song is very Rafal to me, like an hourglass' sands running out. It reeks of desperation. There's nice, taut tension, the implication his time is almost up. Additionally, the lyrics could reference his cremation, or compare his corpse to a sunken warship, and some parts could be read as Rafal's sudden heel-face turn to Good.

One of your best moments? And one of your worst?

A more recent one is that I got 100% on a final exam for an English class, and my professor called my essay "astonishingly brilliant." I was ecstatic.

Unfortunately, I'm not willing to admit a worst moment though most of them revolve around phobias and my failure to suppress an emotional reaction or counteract others'.

Where have you traveled to?

I've been to a few places in the U.S., Canada, Spain, Portugal, England, and Italy.

The Facets of Rafal as Music

Since I've incidentally done a music post for Japeth, I've decided to do one for Rafal as well!

In certain contexts, I believe syncopation is villainous. I'm not an expert, but I believe I've identified the musical pattern I associate with Fala.

Syncopation in music is the type of rhythm that goes back and forth in a certain way, like skipping stones or a pendulum motion, but it's more irregular and off-beat.

Alternatively, you can think of the syncopation parts as the harmony or the walking baseline of the music. It very much evokes footsteps and the sly, trickster archetype in my opinion. There are alternating long-short!, long-short! parts, "delayed" and sustained. And I feel like it's capable of mimicking an uneven, doddery walk, shuffling along, like Fala's limp in Fall. And music like this is used in cinema for this very purpose. I oftentimes picture one heavier foot being dragged forward.

If the images I used weren't clear, here's an actual definition for reference:

"In music, syncopation is a variety of rhythms played together to make a piece of music, making part or all of a tune or piece of music off-beat. More simply, syncopation is 'a disturbance or interruption of the regular flow of rhythm': a 'placement of rhythmic stresses or accents where they wouldn't normally occur.'"

Since this is somewhat of an abstract concept, it may help to listen to some examples I've found to illustrate my point with. At the very least, if I've misidentified this pattern, all these songs have a similar vibe, at least during certain excerpts of them.

Tip: try listening to the sound beneath the main melody of the songs, not the changing, overall variable parts but the stable, underlying constant, as Rafal is mostly constant and faithful, which works for him symbolically. Basically, I want to draw your attention towards the lower parts, the baseline, like I said previously—I'm not sure how to describe it exactly, but for a musical term, you could also call it the accompaniment.

"Good Omens Opening Title" (The original version. Specifically, listen to the heavier, less angelic, more apocalyptic parts.)

"Good Omens Opening Title" first piano version (Easier to hear the pattern with one instrument and less complexity.)

"Good Omens Opening Title" second piano version (Even blunter and more abrupt than the first piano version. Jarring and more "firm." Must be something about the lack of a slur, if it's not outright staccato. It's the notation, the "articulation" here, if you recognize my meaning.)

"The Entertainer" in a minor key (Chances are you're heard this one in a jollier, major key before as it's a popular piece. This darker version I chose is slower, so it's easier to see the pattern.)

"The Entertainer" in a minor key again (This is played at a faster tempo, but it's still worth the listen to me since it aptly captures the darkness and drama Rafal lives for.)

"Chim Chim Cher-ee" (It's easiest to see the footsteps plainly in the blue bars.)

"Chim Chim Cher-ee" (In this second version, you can see the pianist's hands bounce back and forth, kind of like clockwork at one point. Again, evidence of the pattern.)

"God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" (Not jaunty enough to truly qualify as syncopation, but hopefully, you get the idea. See the second version linked just below this one for the actual syncopation, to compare.)

A movie clip with a calliope (Listen to the background music from [31:29-32:05]. The song is still "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen." However, this version has a more distinct syncopation to it. Sure, it's lighter, airier, and played at a faster tempo, but you can still observe the same pattern.)

"Below the Surface" piano version (The walking pattern yet again, very prominent, done with a heavy hand. Also, the stakes seem to rise as the song progresses.)

In summary, while I usually imagine that Rafal's hypothetical villain theme would be far smoother, especially in regards to his seduction of others, Fala's theme would be jauntier, by virtue of its being a disguise and there being more mischief wrapped up in it by default. It'd go clunkity-lunkity, like some kind of a gremlin figure while Rafal's usual leitmotif would be trance-like, hypnotic, mesmerizing, something with spades of tension and build-up.

My examples for Rafal, not Fala, are:

"The Carnival of the Animals - Aquarium"

"The Nutcracker, Op. 71, Act I, Scene 1: No. 6, Clara and the Nutcracker" (Start at [3:58]. It's like he's luring you in.)

"Le Banquet Céleste" for Organ

"Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Major, Op. 26 - III. Allegro ma non troppo" (Start listening to the smoother part at about [2:27]. There is downwards motion and swelling.)

"Serenade for Strings in E Major" (Only the darker, winding parts towards the beginning and end are relevant.)

The quality to some of these music choices I'd like to point out is how there's usually swaying. It's tenuous, wavering—there's undulation and a general air of unease, instability, unpredictability, and yet, it's still a bit like the pendulum motion from before, just looser and loftier, less grounded than Fala is.

Essentially, music like this tends to remind me of Rafal and of characters who function like him. It can be ominous or steady, methodical foot-stepping that's constant and regular, like pacing around a tower chamber, steepling fingers, being locked in thought, crafting schemes.

Thus, I rest my case: syncopation, slurring (the smooth quality), oscillation (the wavering quality) and "evil" go hand in hand, as something sinister is audibly afoot.

Any thoughts, anyone?

To the tune of “My Favorite Things:”

Saders and Mistrals and prophecies settled, Intrigue and pirates and tests of one’s mettle, Black swan gold rings and dark stirrings within— Butterflies all dead with their torn, bro-ken wings!

Swords in the stone and illicit night spansels, Masked Lions, Eagles, and runaway damsels, Treasonous Snakes with dark, oily scims— These omens bring the worst Endings for twins!

If Rhian were a villain as his own character, in character, I feel like he'd be the kind of villain to explain his whole Evil plan, giving it away completely instead of keeping it to himself because he's incapable of keeping it to himself. He would be hyped up with excitement for his vision coming to fruition, and most importantly, he would want to do it for the showmanship as he's theatrical like that. Then again, he may be too smart to reveal it all.

If you recall his thematically-appropriate outfit during the Circus of Talents, he seems to love causing a scene, and while Rafal does share this tendency towards the dramatic, I don't believe it's to the same effect or as extreme as Rhian's.

And this brings me to the point that it's just flat-out unusual for Rhian to wear essentially the same outfit for 200 years.

I mean, that seems unlike him and extreme. For evidence, it's implied by TLEA, by the image of his midnight blue robes hanging on a hook in the tower like a relic at the beginning of the book, that he's worn that selfsame outfit all that time. Sure, he must've not had an occasion to dress up for, but when did that ever stop him? Did imitating Rafal mean he had almost given up on his fashion sense? It's not like anyone had seen him. He didn't have anyone to perform in front of after all. Maybe that's the reason: no one would see him, so it wouldn't matter? He'd probably become depressed, and perhaps, the loneliness drove him insane and away from old behaviors.

Yet, how could Rhian, the man who was a fashion icon in his better days, be reduced to wearing the same midnight blue robes for 200 years, as the first trilogy implies? Even villainous Fall Rhian with his pure spun gold cloak did better than this version of him.

Wearing the same clothes like a uniform is Rafal behavior, and while taking that trait completes his disguise, which I'm sure Rhian had down by SGE's present, if no one had the faintest memory of what the real Rafal was like, what was keeping Rhian from caring about his appearance like he once did? He only seemed to fall back into fashion and indulge in it in order to appeal to Sophie and that's it. Did he never regain the right state of mind for fashion to be of any importance by himself? Did Sophie revive that lost part of him?

In conclusion, that is the most implausible thing about the Fall twist: Rhian's lack of fashion sense. /j