A common thread runs through almost all of the character relationships in the Buffy universe: eventually, on one level or another, they fail. All the way back in the first season, at the end of “I Robot, You Jane” (1-8), Buffy and Xander try to make Willow feel better for having fallen in love with the demon Moloch, disguised as cyber pen pal Malcolm. They joke and laugh about Xander having loved the prayingmantis teacher and Buffy loving a vampire. Buffy says, “Face it, none of us are ever going to have a healthy, normal relationship,” and Xander replies, “We’re doomed.” At that, their amusement fades, and the episode ends with all of them looking distinctly worried. With good reason: as future stories prove, one initially promising relationship after another is destined to go down in defeat.
The love between Buffy and Angel is the first of what becomes a depressing pattern of interpersonal relationship failures. Buffy and Angel may be soul mates, deeply, passionately, and sincerely in love with one another, but time and again any hope of meaningful, lasting happiness is sabotaged by their inability to communicate fully with one another. They are weeks into their relationship before Buffy learns that Angel is a vampire, and he continues to keep most of the details of his past secret from her for the rest of their time together. Their favorite method for coping with uncomfortable subjects is to not talk about them. This makes it easier for Buffy to concentrate on her feelings for Angel the man, and avoid thinking about Angelus the demon, but it doesn’t help at all when it comes to building a foundation for a lasting relationship.
Lack of communication damages Angel’s and Buffy’s relationships—as a couple and as individuals—with all of the other characters, too. Buffy hesitates to describe the true depth of her feelings for Angel, or the reasons she trusts him, to Giles or any of her friends, leaving them to conclude that any of her decisions regarding Angel are clouded by adolescent passion and therefore not to be trusted. Jenny Calendar fails to share her suspicions about the gypsy curse and its possible consequences with Giles or Buffy, which leads to the loss of Angel’s soul and the resurrection of Angelus. After Angel’s soul is restored and he survives banishment to Hell to return to Sunnydale once more, his ability to communicate with the Scoobies is even more severely restricted than before. They can’t distinguish between Angel and Angelus, and for the most part don’t even make an effort to try. Without their trust and forgiveness, Angel can’t form meaningful relationships with Buffy’s companions.
Some of the factors that stand in the way of Buffy and Angel finding happiness together are outside their control. Angel can’t stop being a two-centuries-old vampire, and Buffy can’t stop being the Slayer. Ultimately, however, their relationship fails because of the choices they make. Each wants what’s best for the other, but wanting something and being able to imagine a way to achieve it are two very different things. Buffy, with the innocence of youth and the desperation of someone deeply in love, seems willing to try to fit Angel into her life, but Angel sees only the risks involved. The Mayor sums up Angel’s dilemma for him in “Choices” (3-19), when he says, “What kind of a life can you offer her? I don’t see a lot of Sunday picnics in the offing. I see skulking in the shadows, hiding from the sun. She’s a blossoming young girl and you want to keep her from the life she should have until it has passed her by. My God! I think that’s a little selfish. Is that what you came back from Hell for? Is that your greater purpose?”
The final episode of season seven, “Chosen,” offered the possibility that Buffy and Angel’s relationship could change for the better, someday. As Buffy says, “In the midst of all this insanity, a couple of things are actually starting to make sense . . . I’m not finished becoming whoever the hell it is I’m going to turn out to be . . . Maybe one day I’ll turn around and realize I’m ready. . . That’ll be then. When I’m done.”
However, with the end of the series, such speculation is mere wishful thinking. During the seven seasons of the show, without the ability to conceive any hope for the future, Angel’s relationship with Buffy is doomed.
All of these elements—failure to communicate, lack of trust, inability to envision or create a viable future—disrupt the course of true love for couple after couple. Buffy and Riley are constantly hiding from one another, first literally, then emotionally. Oz can’t maintain his relationship with Willow because he can’t trust himself. Anya has no trouble at all expressing her true feelings, but Xander does, to the point that he doesn’t even admit them to himself until the day of their wedding, when it’s far too late. Giles and Buffy, for all their ties of duty and affection, and for all of their good intentions (Giles only wants what’s best for Buffy), reach a point of such fundamental disagreement on how (or whether) their relationship needs to change that they can’t even live on the same continent any more. Even after Giles returns to Sunnydale in “Bring on the Night” (7-10), he remains a mostly peripheral figure in Buffy’s life. He and Buffy barely connect or communicate, a major factor in his decision to have Spike killed in “Lies My Parents Told Me” (7-17). Although they take the first steps toward reconciliation during “Chosen” (7-22), the details and stability of their new understanding are unclear.
There is only one exception to this pattern of relationships that fail: Willow and Tara.
On the surface, Willow and Tara face many of the same obstacles that we’ve seen before. But there are strong indications, from the earliest phases of their friendship, that Willow and Tara’s relationship is different from any other explored in the show.
For the other characters, secrets and deceptions tend to take on a life of their own, with one lie leading to another until dishonesty becomes a habit and misunderstandings inevitable. When the truth is finally, reluctantly revealed, resentment and anger block attempts to repair the damage that’s been done and move on to a new stage in the relationship. Buffy and Riley, for example, never fully come to terms with one another’s mission in life. Even when their relationship is at its most mutually supportive, they don’t seem to completely understand one another. Riley can’t seem to come to grips with the reality of magic; Buffy can’t understand how he can be so focused on “killing monsters” and miss the larger, more complex issues that are often at stake. As for Buffy and Spike, she’s so ashamed of their relationship that she spends most of the sixth season unwilling to admit to her friends, Spike, or herself that it even exists. Xander and Anya keep whole lists of secrets from one another, as revealed in their song-and-dance number in the sixth season’s “Once More, With Feeling” (6-7). When Xander commits what Anya perceives as the ultimate betrayal—abandoning her at the altar in “Hell’s Bells” (6-16) —she can’t forgive him, and the relationship, like so many before it, fails.
Not so for Willow and Tara. Their relationship breaks all the previously established rules. From their first encounter, at the Wiccan meeting in “Hush” (4-10), Tara offers unqualified, unselfish support to Willow. In that episode, Tara takes the risk of sharing her true self—her magical skills—with Willow without any sign of hesitation or doubt. And Willow accepts her offer to combine their power and work together with similar, unquestioning trust. The early stage of secret-keeping and deception, a guarantee of lasting trauma as far as all the other characters are concerned, barely happens between Willow and Tara. Although Willow demonstrates a measure of circumspection during her earliest conversations with Tara—admitting that she has some other friends she hangs out with, but not going into detail—Tara accepts her discretion as perfectly normal. What matters most to her is that Willow be comfortable in their friendship.
By the time of “Who Are You?” (4-16, six episodes after “Hush”), it’s clear that Willow shares everything with Tara, and has told her all about Buffy and the Scooby gang. She hasn’t told them about Tara yet, but not out of shame or fear or uncertainty: she’s just so happy to be Tara’s friend that she wants to savor the feeling in privacy for a while. When Willow finally does get a chance to introduce Tara to Buffy later in the same episode, it’s a
completely relaxed, positive experience (even though, early in the story, Faith disguised as Buffy was horrible to Tara). When Willow and Tara’s friendship deepens and they become lovers, Buffy initially is a little freaked (“New Moon Rising,” 4-19), but she quickly gets over the surprise. As she reassures Riley later, speaking as much about herself as about his reaction to Willow having dated Oz: “You found out that Willow was in kind of an unconventional relationship, and it gave you a momentary wiggins. It happens.” From that point on, Tara gradually becomes a respected part of the Scooby gang.
Tara does keep one secret from Willow for a time but, instead of driving a wedge between them, its revelation draws them even closer to one another. In the fifth-season episode “Family” (5-6), Tara’s father, brother, and cousin arrive in Sunnydale and try to convince Tara to come home with them. Her father insists—and Tara grew up believing—that she has magic abilities because she is part demon, a curse theoretically passed down through the female side of their family. Tara reluctantly prepares to abandon the life she’s built for herself in Sunnydale, rather than risk having Willow and her friends learn her “dark secret.” However, before she is whisked away by her relatives, Spike proves there is no demon in her, and cleverly guesses the truth: “It’s just a family legend, am I right? Just a bit of spin to keep the ladies in line?” The Scoobies prevent Tara’s father from taking her away; when he challenges their right to interfere, Buffy’s response is short and to the point: “We’re family.” Their support mirrors Willow’s unconditional acceptance. Instead of feeling threatened or betrayed by the fact that Tara concealed an important part of her background, Willow understands and sympathizes with her fears, and states her admiration that, despite everything, Tara has overcome her difficulties to become the warm, open-hearted woman Willow loves.
This brings us to a crucial question. Why does the Willow-Tara pairing succeed when all other relationships in the Buffyverse fail? Part of the credit must go to Willow. Of all the members of the Scooby gang, she seems the most sympathetic and supportive of her friends and the least prone to holding a grudge. When she does make a mistake—as in “Something Blue” (4-9), where her inadvertent curses of her friends start her down the path to becoming a vengeance demon—she recognizes it, apologizes sincerely, and does what she can to make amends. Still, all of Willow’s sterling qualities can’t sustain her relationship with Oz. There has to be another factor at work—and that factor is Tara.
In her early appearances, Tara didn’t make a strong impression on most people (either the other characters, or the audience watching the show). She was shy and self-effacing. Under the least bit of social pressure, she blushed and stuttered and ducked her head as if she were not only afraid to speak up for herself, but convinced before she started that it wouldn’t do any good to try. To outside observers, she seemed to be no more than an appendage to Willow—a friend and, later, lover who made Willow happy, and a moderately talented magic user who could help the more powerful Willow realize her full potential. But that was all.
Such surface impressions, however, don’t do justice to Tara’s true personality. Beneath the shy, quiet exterior lay untapped reserves of moral courage and emotional strength. In her first episode, “Hush” (4-10), she braved the dark, silent campus and the threat of capture by The Gentlemen to bring Willow information that might enable them to break the spell of silence that had crippled the town. In “Who Are You?” (4-16), she provided the knowledge Willow needed to search for Buffy’s essence, and an anchor to guide Willow back when her search was complete. In “New Moon Rising” (4-19), Tara was prepared to stand aside and let Oz resume his place as most significant person in Willow’s life, if that was what would make Willow happy. Again and again, as the series progressed, Tara consistently acted with Willow’s welfare uppermost in her mind.
This doesn’t mean that Tara and Willow’s relationship was completely lacking in conflict or challenges. However, although they occasionally disagreed with or disappointed one another, they both knew how to give and accept apologies. Most important of all, they knew how to forgive.
Willow’s addiction to magic in the sixth season strained her relationship with Tara to the breaking point. By the end of “Tabula Rasa” (6-8), when Tara moves out of the Summers house and, for all practical purposes, out of Willow’s life, it looks as if they’ve been defeated by the Sunnydale Curse: too many lies culminating in an unforgivable betrayal.
But then something unprecedented happens. Instead of resenting the fact that Tara left her (or simply retreating into self-pity as she does after Oz’s departure in “Wild at Heart”), Willow soon takes responsibility for the damage she did to their relationship, and resolves to set things right. After reaching the low point of allowing her thirst for magic to endanger Dawn’s life (“Wrecked,” 6-10), she finally accepts the advice Tara gave her in “Tabula Rasa” (6-8), and gives up magic entirely, and then sticks to her resolve even when events in such episodes as “Older and Far Away” (6-14) and “Normal Again” (6-17) tempt her to regret her decision. Tara’s reaction to Willow’s efforts are most significant of all. Although she left Willow for entirely justifiable reasons—Willow lied to her and manipulated her perceptions and memories—she doesn’t abandon her completely. Even though she has been betrayed in the most personal ways possible, Tara acknowledges the betrayal, accepts it . . . and moves on. Her anger and disappointment don’t prevent her from continuing to love Willow. Tara’s inner strength, patience, and commitment give Willow the time she needs to regain her self-control and self-esteem. By the time of “Entropy,” (6-18), Willow has done her best to overcome her magic addiction and make amends for the harm she has caused, and at that point Tara is willing to not only support her but also forgive her and build their relationship anew. Together, they learn from their mistakes. Together they are stronger, happier, better people than they ever could be separately.
After Tara’s death in “Seeing Red” (6-19), Willow forgets what she had learned, for a while. But not forever. Xander can’t take Tara’s place, but he can force Willow to remember what she had learned with Tara. In the end, the fact that Willow and Tara’s relationship was cut short by Warren’s careless cruelty doesn’t change the fundamental nature of that relationship, or its ultimate success.
Buffy the Vampire Slayer isn’t about killing monsters. Buffy is about the search for meaning in life. Again and again, that meaning is found in reliable, balanced, loving partnerships between individuals. Saving the world is all well and good, but any accomplishment is hollow without someone to share it with at the end of the day. All of the characters have stumbled in and out of relationships, some lasting longer than others, with friends, family, and lovers—all, with one exception, have failed. Some of the relationships, admittedly, weren’t given the chance to achieve their full potential. Giles and Jenny Calendar, for instance, showed signs in “Becoming, Part 1” (6-21) of being on the brink of achieving a level of trust, communication, and forgiveness that might have overcome their initially rocky start. In season seven, Willow begins a romance with Kennedy, one of the potential Slayers, but it lacks the depth and intensity of her relationship with Tara. Granted, in the final episodes, little time is available for developing personal relationships. However, that doesn’t entirely excuse the essential shallowness of Willow’s and Kennedy’s interactions. Perhaps, given time, they could become equal partners in a rich and complex relationship. Kennedy finds Willow attractive. Willow, who struggles with indecision and self-doubt throughout the crisis with the First, relies on Kennedy for strength and support. If there is anything more to their love, we’re never given the opportunity to see it.
But we don’t have to rely on what ifs or might have beens to find our model for ultimate meaning in Buffy. Tara and Willow showed all of us—their friends and the audience—how to achieve the highest standards of love. Honesty. Communication. Acceptance. Encouragement. Support. Commitment. Conviction. Forgiveness. Determination to never give
up.
And that is what Buffy is all about.
Marguerite Krause’s favorite activities involve working with words. In addition to writing, she works as a freelance copyeditor, helping other writers to sharpen their skills, and for relaxation loves nothing better than to curl up with a good book. She also has a master’s degree in music and performs with a local symphony orchestra, and has held a variety of jobs over the years: short-order cook, day-care provider, ice-cream packer, and driver for a courier company. She is married to her high-school sweetheart; they have two children. Her two-part epic fantasy novel, Moons’ Dreaming and Moons’ Dancing, cowritten with Susan Sizemore, will be released by Five Star (a Gale Imprint) in Fall 2003.
Sarah Zettel
WHEN DID THE
SCOOBIES BECOME
INSIDERS?
I know, I know, season four was flawed and season six was depressing, but I don’t care. Every season of Buffy works for me; I love them all. Every season has its brilliance, its joy (OK, less so in seasons six and seven), its intensity. But I have to admit that something is different about the later seasons — not worse, I won’t concede that, but different. But I could never put my finger on what it was. Sarah Zettel can, and does.
HELLO. MY NAME IS SARAH and I’m a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan. (Hi, Sarah.)
I’ve been crazy about the concept of Buffy since a friend of mine brought over the original movie one Halloween. When I heard they were making a series, I was actually worried, because I wasn’t sure they’d be able to match the quality of the film. Needless to say, I got over that in a hurry.
Seven Seasons of Buffy: Science Fiction and Fantasy Authors Discuss Their Favorite Television Show (Smart Pop series) Page 14
