Spoilers ahead if you haven’t seen all of Robin Hood Season 1.
See Diary Part 8 here, or to access all entries, hit “The Diary” tab above.
Entry — a couple of years ago:
I watched Robin Hood Season 1 in two days, and I’m pretty emotional right now and a little bit confused. One minute it’s about the nobility of the legend and lots of pontificating with a heavy dose of political statement, the next it’s pure camp, the next it’s an intense love triangle. The pontificating is why I hesitated to watch it. Haven’t we been beaten over the head enough with the nobility of Robin Hood? The camp was a pleasant surprise. The love triangle hooked me.
I’ll never admit that to anyone. Why I never want to admit I’m a romantic I don’t quite understand. In this age of in your face identities, people pounding their chests to show who they are no matter how goofy or silly or just bizarre, I can’t simply admit I’m a romantic. I could barely admit it to SO, but he already knew. It seems like weakness to admit an attachment for things romantic. Not sure if this is the result of a skewed view of what it means to be a feminist or being brought up as the only child to a man who really needed a son to hang out with him and repair the family car, shoot guns and never be silly and certainly never girlie. That son did come along but not before I had long since conditioned myself to refrain from anything girlie. I could never let on about having crushes or daydreaming about some heartthrob. Had to be too sensible for that nonsense. I was the girl who knew her way around radial arm saws, torque wrenches and flaring tools. I made regular adjustments to the valves of my first car, changed the oil and dealt with any flat tires by myself. All of that at the fighting weight of about 100 pounds. But hold the hand of a male or even smile openly at him to show I admired him? No, I gave new meaning to playing hard to get.
I can’t believe I cried at the finale. Surely my hormones must be out of whack. Oh, I’ve cried at movies and books a few times before, but Gisborne is horrible. Isn’t he? Oh, yeah, he is, but he doesn’t want to be? Damn! he just wants someone to think he’s valuable, and he sucked me right in. I lost it when he asked Marian if he pleased her. I’m tearing up; want to cry again right now. I know I’ve been totally manipulated, but it never felt so good to cry for a character. I’ve always been such a pushover for someone looking for redemption. I want to move heaven and earth to make sure they get it.
I can’t wait for the Season 2 DVDs to get here. I need to know what happens to Guy. So much for the legend of Robin Hood. Blast. I won’t be able to see it for a couple of months, and I refuse to watch the spoilers on YouTube even though I’m having a hard time not inadvertently seeing it. The videos seem to be everywhere. Oh, this is killing me! Why do we have to wait so long for these British shows?!!
I need to rewatch Season 1 or at least the finale.
A little while later:
I cried again. When he’s talking to Thornton I begin to get anxious for Guy, or maybe it starts when he visits Marian’s sick bed. He is so desperate and loves Marian in his own warped way, or maybe this character has warped me? I don’t know. All I know is that I’m rooting for Guy to have a great destiny and find peace, and Robin has faded from view. At least I was wiser this time around and watched so no one could hear my sob when Guy entreats Marian to approve of the church decorations and of him. Man, is this part of the camp? I wonder, and I feel dumb crying at this, but I can’t help it, and I don’t want to help it even though I do feel dumb. The crying feels too good.
Diary Part 10 here.
Screencap courtesy of my stash.