Will Graham v. Jane Eyre, Part II-1/2

A chat with Daniel Shannon

The second part of a conversation I had with Zoe Selengut last month about Hannibal will be published tomorrow. Part I available now here. But first, an interlude with Daniel Shannon:

Daniel Shannon:

But I think her delivery of psychotherapeutic nonsense was the only time I laughed aloud in the series

The utterly languid care of forming each word—“Is it. important. to you. that I be in danger”—and ejecting it with unmistakable disgust.

(Don’t tell Grace because she’s gonna do Freud at me but it immediately called to mind an exquisite, dainty shit)

Daniel Lavery:

you said that on TWITTER! she already KNOWS

Daniel Shannon:

I assume nobody reads it which is usually true!!

I’m open to other images but it just, like, I dunno, the slow lippy shaping of each word looks intestinal and I’m not going to apologize for that.

Daniel Lavery:

nor should you!!

Daniel Shannon:


Her raw jealousy.

Was divine.

Daniel Lavery:

Yes!! and so carefully portioned out

like she was spitting little Godiva’s chocolates, neatly wrapped

Daniel Shannon:

Little tiny Ferrero Rocher of jilted shit.

I was really waiting for someone to observe Will’s thoroughgoing basicness and react accordingly and boy, did Gillian Anderson deliver.

Daniel Lavery:

it’s very Isabella Rossellini tearing out Liz Lemon’s hair in “Black Tie” because she’s not over her divorce from Jack Donaghy

By the way, Grace says “it’s not Freud but Klein who talks about shit-eating”

Daniel Shannon:

Tell Grace I see a Kleinian and that’s about as much apostasy as I can handle in a week.

BEDELIA: Are you going to marry him?

WILL: Oh, hi. What?

BEDELIA: Are you going to marry Hannibal?

WILL: Oh. Uh. I don’t know. We’ve, uh, talked about it.

BEDELIA: I can tell from the way he looks at you that he’s serious. He’s going to want to have children right away. I’m sure of it. A little late-in-life baby he can parade around Nantucket….The whole thing makes me want to vomit.

WILL: Oh, no. You know —

BEDELIA: I can take the models, the Rockettes, the Shakiras, because ultimately I know they are going to leave him. But you? You can actually make him happy. And that makes me want to sit on a knife!

WILL: Oh, wow —

BEDELIA: I hate seeing Hannibal HAPPY!

WILL: Oh, boy.

BEDELIA: Hannibal, great news. Will is neither normal nor happy.

HANNIBAL: You don’t have to do this, Bedelia.

BEDELIA: I’m telling you, he’s not over you. And get this: He was all jealous of me. He busted out crying over it.

HANNIBAL: That’s impossible.

BEDELIA: Fine. You don’t believe me? I’m gonna go over there, I’m gonna tell him that you just proposed to me. And you watch him. Watch how red his face gets.

BEDELIA: Well…thanks for a fun evening. Sorry your friend died.

HANNIBAL: When he was born, the doctor told his parents that he would either live for 15 minutes or 100 years. He proved them all wrong.

BEDELIA: Oh — sure, come on in.

HANNIBAL: My God, the look on Will’s face just before he choked you. That was the most satisfying thing.

BEDELIA: It was pretty good.

HANNIBAL: Just to know she’s filled with bile warms my heart. Bedelia, I want to thank you, for showing me that I could have a pleasant evening with a woman my own age.

BEDELIA: I’m twelve years younger than you.

HANNIBAL: A woman your age, then.