Like
most of Joss Whedon works, Firefly
best quality is its magnificent ensemble of characters and the relationships
between them. No doubt the show will be
featured again in relationship spotlights to come, but first, I want to look at
the extraordinary bond between the Tam siblings.
Back
when I discussed the Murrays, I said it would have been so easy for Meg to
resent her prodigious genius of a baby brother.
Much the same could be said about Simon; while he makes it clear that he’s
incredibly smart and accomplished in his own right, he maintains that he looks
like “an idiot child” next to River. Her
brilliance is wide-ranging and effortless, but it’s never been the slightest issue
between them. Even when they were
children, he would just smile indulgently as she corrected his textbooks.
Despite
their central-planet upbringing and their family’s wealth, they’ve made their
way by leaning on one another. When
River is in dire straits at the Academy, her parents regard her nonsensical
letters as just another of her silly games, while Simon is the one to realize
they’re encoded. His good name, career,
and fortune are all given gladly in his efforts to help River get out, and he aligns
himself with Serenity and her crew of outlaws to take River on the run.
His
character’s defining attribute is the care he provides for his little
sister. He’s entirely motivated by
helping her recover from the trauma, torture, and experimentation she suffered
at the Academy. In order to do so, his
own morals and safety are of little consequence – even though he’s a doctor and
dedicated to protecting life, he commits violence for River’s sake, and the
straight-laced young citizen with the pampered childhood plans a heist of an
Alliance hospital to gain access to specialized medical equipment and understand
her condition better.
To the
show’s credit, Simon’s self-sacrifice stops short of saintliness. As much as he’s devoted to helping River, he’s
frequently overwhelmed by their new life as fugitives and by her altered mental
state from her experiences. She’s
returned to him with erratic behavior, dangerous tendencies, and a fractured
thought process. Sometimes he’s broken
by his inability to help her, and sometimes he’s fed up with being her
caretaker. He loses his temper and
speaks in anger, but at the end of the day, his lot is cast with hers.
It’s a
little harder to gauge the relationship from River’s side, since her character
is so wrapped in psychoses and trauma.
As such, she’s often not terribly present in her own scenes, but to the
extent that she is able to push through the muddle and connect, she connects
with Simon. She’s aware of all that
Simon’s given up to save her, and her despair at her situation is magnified by feeling
like a useless burden to her brother.
One of the most affecting moments in the series comes, not in an
episode, but in the movie Serenity,
when River is able to return the favor and take care of Simon for a change.
Beyond
the large-looming plots of sacrifice, mental instability, and evading the law,
they’re simply a great pair. I love the
hints of comparatively normal sibling behavior we get in River’s more lucid moments: the way they tease each other, and the brief
scenes in which they’re allowed to enjoy themselves. This is where an idea of the real River comes
out, where Simon is at his most genuine and relaxed – they really do bring out
the best in one another.
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