ext_7829: (Pirates1)
[identity profile] gwynevere1.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] ship_manifesto
Author: [livejournal.com profile] gwynevere1
Spoilers: All three Pirates of the Caribbean films.
Author's Note: I'm not sure if I always did the best job clarifying what was text and what was my interpretation of the subtext, but I had already almost maxed out the word limit and had to cut back.
Thanks to: [livejournal.com profile] siridian for scanning pages from Bring Me that Horizon: The Making of Pirates of the Caribbean, from which some of the quotes are taken; and One Day's Head Start, for excerpts from the DVD commentary and the writers' online postings.
May be image-heavy for those with dial-up connections.




"He's got love in his heart and water in the bottom of his boat."

When Elizabeth Swann was twelve-years-old, her father, Weatherby, became the royal governor of Port Royal, Jamaica. To the motherless and free-spirited child (played here, in flashback, by Lucinda Dryzek), the sea voyage seemed an exciting adventure, which might take her away from the propriety of upper class British society to the wilds of the colonial Caribbean. Elizabeth was hoping that something thrilling would happen on their voyage—like a pirate attack—a thought which she was not afraid to share with others on the ship. Young Miss Swann did not admire pirates for their own sake, so much as what they represented to her: freedom from civilization's rules and the expectations of others.

Unfortunately for Elizabeth, one of the people who overheard her fascination with pirates was a lieutenant on the ship, James Norrington (played by Jack Davenport). When Elizabeth first meets James, he is an authority figure to her: a naval officer, nearly a decade older, in a position to supervise and to reprimand her. She sees him as illustrative as everything she wants to escape: rules and order and class and station. It's an opinion Elizabeth cannot easily shake, even years later.

To compound matters, James's attitude towards pirates is the polar opposite to Elizabeth's: rather than admiring them, James thinks that all pirates deserve "a short drop and a sudden stop." In general, James believes that whatever is illegal is also automatically immoral. James's conviction that all pirates are "vile and dissolute creatures" is so fervent that he does not even stop to consider that it might not be the best idea to talk to a twelve-year-old about capital punishment. Despite all his sense of decorum, James's social skills aren't always the best . . .


"The thing that always interested me about the role is that you have this character who is a leader of men in a very public role. . . . Norrington is in a situation in which, in a very public arena, he's had to deal with things that are incredibly private."



Cut to eight years later.

By now, Governor Weatherby Swann's fondest hope for now-twenty-year-old Elizabeth (played from here-forward by Keira Knightley) is to see her married well—and she hates the idea. Don't misunderstand: Weatherby only has the best of intentions. He is not a calculating, greedy tyrant but a loving, doting parent, who merely wants to see his only child happy. Nonetheless, as an Eighteenth Century gentleman, he assumes that the way to achieve this for his daughter is to see her married to an upper-class, hard-working, honorable, morally respectable man with a good income--in other words, to now-Commodore James Norrington.

Weatherby is not in the least bit subtle about his wish to have Elizabeth marry James. He practically drops matchmaking anvils in front of Elizabeth. His eagerness for the match, however, probably did the relationship more harm than good. Thanks to her father's urging her towards the marriage, Elizabeth now associates James with domesticity and conformity—both of which she is desperate to escape. She still clings to her childhood fantasies about pirates, which remain symbolic to her of the autonomy she fears she can never have a gentlewoman in the 1700s. She dreads a life of tea parties and child-rearing and never seeing much beyond her own doorstep. Despite traveling to the Caribbean, she still feels stuck in the dreary, limited world of British society from which she had longed to flee.

James, on the other hand, has not just accepted his adult responsibilities but flourished. He has rapidly risen through the naval ranks, becoming a commodore at a relatively young age. He has excelled as a commander and a strategist. Moreover, he has become renowned as a pirate hunter—"the scourge of piracy in the eastern Caribbean." Hence, James has become famous by eradicating exactly what Elizabeth idealizes.

Albeit that James and Elizabeth may seem like opposites—mature responsibility versus youthful romanticism, James is, in fact, in love with Elizabeth—something everyone seems to recognize except, of course, Elizabeth herself. Weatherby is not just pushing Elizabeth towards James for financial and social stability but also because he realizes the level of James's affection. The two men have an obvious respect for each other; you don't have to fanwank too hard to read a father/son dynamic into their relationship. Again, perhaps being her father's friend also harmed James's courtship—it reinforced James as an authority figure in Elizabeth's mind, rather than as a possible life partner and romantic equal. Even if Weatherby is blinded by a desire to see his son-substitute become his son-in-law, Elizabeth's more objective maid also comments to her mistress on the Commodore's fondness. Actually, the entire town of Port Royal—on the outside, looking in--appears to know this bit of gossip.

The entire town of Port Royal, that is, except the governor's daughter. This isn't entirely due to willful ignorance on Elizabeth's part, however. She never actually sees this side of James. Frankly, James is *really* terrible at sharing his emotions. As comfortable as he is in his element as a leader of men in battle, he's absolute rubbish out of it. Like Davenport remarks during the DVD commentary: "Here for an example of English repression. Sit back and enjoy the repression."

When James finally summons the courage to propose to Elizabeth, he's so consumed with his own neverousness and shyness, that he fails to notice Elizabeth about to faint from the heat and the tightness of her corset (which, yes, is a less-than-subtle metaphor for the way society's requirements are restricting her). There are times when you want to grab the man, shake him, and yell, "Just *tell* her you love her, already! How else is she supposed to know!" Or maybe that's just me.

As fate would have it, on the rare occasions when James does break out of his stoicism, Elizabeth is never around to witness it. For example, James panics and intends to jump off the fort walls, into the jagged rocks below, to rescue Elizabeth after she faints (Elizabeth, naturally, was busy being unconscious); later, James verbally smacks down Elizabeth's other suitor, Will Turner, for assuming that he, Will, was the only man who cared for Elizabeth, after she has been kidnapped; or, after James realizes that Elizabeth has accepted his proposal for ulterior motives (more on that in a bit), James physically and emotionally crumples. The audience has the opportunity to see these flashes of emotion in James; Elizabeth, unfortunately, does not.

After a long series of complicated events involving undead pirates, cursed Aztec gold, and a monkey, Will Turner, who Elizabeth has loved since she was a child, is in the clutches of villainous pirates who intend to spill all of his blood in order to break said curse. Anxious to save Will, Elizabeth agrees to marry James, on the condition that he use the naval forces under his command to rescue Will. One of Elizabeth's less agreeable qualities, admittedly, is her manipulative streak. She is not evil, per se; but she will use any means necessary when she believes the ends are moral. Here, one of the means that she is willing to sacrifice is James. She knowingly puts him in danger, by not mentioning that the pirates who have Will are unkillable zombies, in order to achieve what she thinks is the more virtuous goal of saving Turner. Of course, Elizabeth does not really even consider James a person yet, at least, not in the same way she sees Will; to her, James is nothing more than her father's boring friend, at best, or an emotionless statue, at worst. Therefore, she likely thinks she is only manipulating James's social and economic ambitions by agreeing to the marriage. She does not, necessarily, realize that she is also playing with James's affections. Elizabeth is not entirely aware of just how ruthless her actions are. Or so I interpret this scene.

James, nonetheless, is not stupid and is not entirely persuaded as to the sincerity of Elizabeth's affections. After having a solitary moment of physical and emotional collapse upon realizing that Elizabeth's actions are based upon her love of Will rather than of him, James buoys himself enough give Elizabeth the opportunity to break off the engagement, promising that he will still send his ship and his men to rescue Will. He would rather let her go than have them both trapped in a loveless marriage—or, at least, one where his affections are not reciprocated.

The following exchange occurs, framed in such a way as to parallel the proposal scene:

NORRINGTON
Elizabeth -- Miss Swann. I find myself ... worried that your answer is perhaps ... Less than sincere.

ELIZABETH
I would not give my word lightly.

NORRINGTON
I know. But is it so wrong for me to wish it given unconditionally?

ELIZABETH
It is not a condition. It is a request. Your answer would not change mine. You are a fine man ... James.

For a brief moment, Norrington breaks into a wide, boyish smile. His military bearing reasserts itself, but only just.


In reference to this scene, one of the film's writers, Ted Elliot, posted on the official message board: "The single most important thing in this scene is Norrington's reaction to the words 'You are a fine man ... James.' Jack Davenport has an utterly charming smile, and we wrote the scene to that moment -- the moment where the audience would recognize: Hey, this guy is human -- and I like him!"

Besides agreeing that Davenport does have the most charming smile, I also think a key change occurs to James and Elizabeth's relationship in this moment: for the first time, Elizabeth--even more so than the audience--begins to see James as *human*--as someone with actual emotion and affection, even someone she could like, not just as a stoic symbol of society. As Elliot continued to write: "Keira played this scene perfectly -- there is a real sense in her performance that while she may never love Norrington, she likes him, respects him, and could even find some joy in being married to him ..."

As for James's willingness to continue to let himself be persuaded by Elizabeth—well, in all honesty, the man is in denial. Again, as Elliot posted, "Despite the evidence that Elizabeth does not love him (which he recognizes), Norrington wants to *believe* Elizabeth loves him. And, hey, we've all been there, right?"

In the script, this scene ends with an exchange that does not appear anywhere but must have been filmed, because it's in the blooper reel (incidentally, Elizabeth has lost her dress and is in her shift this entire time):

NORRINGTON
You may seclude yourself in my cabin. I'm afraid we do not have any ladies' clothing aboard.

ELIZABETH
Then I can wear men's clothing.

NORRINGTON
That would hardly be proper.

ELIZABETH
Well, I am not going to stay hidden in some cabin, or I suppose it's going to be heaving bosoms and bare ankles for the remainder of the voyage!

Norrington is exasperated, but then can't help but grin – this is exactly why he loves her.


Whether this moment can be considered canon is debatable, but I think it illustrates a larger truth about this 'ship: James loves Elizabeth for who she is, not what she is. James is a very eligible bachelor: he has fame, a good income, an important position. If all he wanted in a wife was someone to keep his house and tend to the children, he could have easily found an amenable woman in Port Royal society or have even sent back to England for a wife. Also, he is only about thirty-years-old; there's no reason he has to marry yet. Hence, he doesn't actually have to pursue Elizabeth. He's known her for years and is hardly ignorant of her wild, defiant personality—and *that* is exactly what he loves about her. It's also possible to interpret his admiration for Elizabeth's passion as a longing to change his own nature. It suggests that maybe he is tired of always being the perfect, obedient soldier, and he wishes that he had the audacity to be as forthright as Elizabeth and not always do the "proper" thing.

So, after various sea battles and swordfights, Will is saved, the undead pirates are defeated, and the pirate, Jack Sparrow, who helped to rescue both Elizabeth and Will is set to be hanged for previous crimes. When Will attempts (and largely fails) to help Jack escape, Elizabeth steps in between them and the men under James's command and confesses her love for Will. James, with Governor Swann's consent, allows Will to go free and gives Jack one day's head start before he will give chase. Knowing he cannot continue the charade of their betrothal, James releases Elizabeth from their engagement and gives her and Will his blessing. James loves Elizabeth so much that he would rather let her go than see her unhappy.

And so, James and Elizabeth's relationship may have ended there, if Disney had not decided that there was more bounty to be pillaged by Pirates . . .


"Well, I haven't got a girlfriend anymore, so I might as well go pirate hunting."



When we last left our couple, James had chosen to allow his emotions to overrule his logic, maybe for the first time in his life, and not to chase Jack Sparrow immediately – a decision which he lives to regret. In his postponed pursuit, James follows Jack into a hurricane, which destroys James's ship. How much of the blame actually lies with James for entering the hurricane versus merely becoming caught in it is unknown—perhaps because James himself doesn't know how much of the ship's destruction, and the lives lost due to it, is his own fault. However, it is in James's nature to take responsibility for not making the right decision and resigns his position. Without his naval career to sustain him (and without any personal relationships to support him), James becomes a mess. He ends up drunk and dirty, associating with the pirates he loathes, in their capital, Tortuga. James may have a bit of a death wish, at this point, spawned by his self-induced sense of culpability for the men who died under his command and by his survivor's guilt.

Considering how much James's world falls out from under him when he actually allowed himself to break away from propriety temporarily, it is now understandable why he had been so afraid to step outside of society's rules. The only person who continues to show some respect for James is Weatherby—but even that rapport has to have become somewhat awkward, considering Elizabeth's rejection of James.

When Elizabeth finds James again, he is pissed (in both senses) and in a bar fight. Despite his shabby appearance, she recognizes him immediately (or perhaps his incredibly distinct voice) and is shocked by his deterioration—but she willing joins the melee to save the life of someone she once respected, which she does, ironically, by knocking him out cold before he can get himself into worse trouble. The patrons proceed to toss the unconscious James out of the bar and into a sty. So here James is, facedown in mud and pig urine, so far from the pristine and seemingly perfect Commodore of His Majesty's Navy that Elizabeth thought she knew. In an odd way, this transformation was good for their relationship. Elizabeth has now seen him at his worst, at his most vulnerable, and at his most human. She goes to him—and both literally and figuratively pulls him out of the muck.

In addition to Elizabeth now experiencing James's flaws, James is more discerning of Elizabeth's faults. After traveling together for a while and seeing Elizabeth flirt with Jack (who, as Elizabeth hasn't yet figured out, is to blame for Will being trapped on an evil ghost ship), James remarks:
NORRINGTON
It's a curious thing. There was a time when I'd have given anything for you to look like that while thinking of me; just once.

Elizabeth is shocked out of her reverie.

ELIZABETH
I don't know what you mean.

NORRINGTON
I think you do.

Elizabeth does know. Under his gaze, gives up pretending.

ELIZABETH
Don't be absurd. I trust him, that's all.

NORRINGTON
Ah.

Norrington stands up and turns away, turns back.

NORRINGTON (CONT'D)
Did you never wonder how your latest fiancé ended up on the Flying Dutchman in the first place?


James knows Elizabeth's shortcomings--she has a tendency to trust the wrong people; she stubbornly thinks she's always right, even when presented evidence to the contrary; she is not as faithful as she likes to believe; she manipulates people--and he loves her anyway. James doesn't idealize Elizabeth; he doesn't put her on a pedestal. He's cognizant of her worst flaws—heck, he's fallen prey to them—and he cares about her, nonetheless.

Elizabeth, in turn, gains an insight into James that she lacked before. Seeing him tattered and torn, bitter and snarking at her—at *his* worst, she heeds him more than she did when he was at his best.

After further misadventures involving a giant squid, a carved-out-but-still-beating-heart, and undead pirates (no, different ones), we discover something else about James: he, too, is willing to be ruthless. He'll thrust sand in the eyes of an opponent and kick a man in the chest during a swordfight. He steals the letters of marque which were intended for Jack and assigns them to himself. He takes the titular Dead Man's Chest, giving the impression that he is drawing off these zombie pirates from the others (although, this action does ultimately protect Elizabeth from said-undead), and delivers it to a different enemy—the one aligned with the forces of law and order (Lord Beckett), with the intent of having his respectable life restored. Also, just like Elizabeth, James does not seem entirely aware of his own malice. As much as James claims to despise pirates, he is perhaps the most piratical of them all.


"Choosing a side."



The reason the Dead Man's Chest is valuable is that whoever owns it can control the powerful and massive ship, the Flying Dutchman, the crew of which is unkillable (mainly because they are already dead)—and whoever controls the Dutchman, thereby, controls the seas. In order to guarantee at all times that the Dutchman was doing as he wanted, Lord Beckett puts James in charge of the ship, with the purpose of eradicating all pirates. Beckett's intentions go beyond the actions James had previously taken against pirates, however. Beckett wants his company, the East India Trading Company, to have a monopoly on sea travel and, to that end, is also attacking merchant vessels and foreign warships. Even the pirates which Beckett's men are capturing are not given fair trials and due process, as James and the Navy had done, but are executed immediately. Beckett and the EITC's actions are so extremely despicable that even the pirates are willing to cooperate long enough to rise up against them.

In time, one of the pirate vessels which the Dutchman captures is the Empress, along with its captain, Elizabeth Swann (long story). From Elizabeth, James learns that Weatherby has been killed by Beckett's men. For James, who has already been experiencing a crisis of conscience over Beckett's extreme measures, Elizabeth's danger and Weatherby's death cause him to reach his tipping point. James breaks the law by letting her and her crew out of the brig and by telling them that Beckett knows where the pirate allies are going to be meeting. In helping pirates to escape the gallows, James has come a long way from thinking that all pirates deserve "a short drop and a sudden stop." It is not just James's love for Elizabeth which motivates him to this act of willful defiance. If it were, he could have just saved Elizabeth and not spared her crew (he had, in fact, previously offered her refuge in his cabin, which she refused). It is from his association with Elizabeth that James has come to understand that what is legal and what is morally right is not always the same thing. There is a cut line from Dead Man's Chest where James, in a brief moment of clarity, comments to Elizabeth, "Better mad with the rest of the world than sane alone." I think this observation reflects the essential shift in James's moral compass: he recognizes that always doing the "proper" and "sane" action is not necessarily the right one—and it is worth doing the "mad" thing at times.

Unfortunately but somewhat inevitably, the escape is discovered. James, realizing they are about to be caught and, quite likely, killed, finally finds the nerve to let Elizabeth know, unequivocally, that he loves her. Spurred by his revelation that following societal mores isn't always the correct course (especially where Miss Swann is concerned), James kisses Elizabeth.

And Elizabeth finally gets it. She comprehends the depth of James's feeling for her. Subsequent to this epiphany—and even though she has already deduced that it was James who gave the Dead Man's Chest to Beckett, Elizabeth begs James to come with them—to come with her. This is a far cry from her earlier indifference to him—to the point where she was unphased by maneuvering to risk James's life for Will's. Elizabeth let her prejudices towards James or, even more so, towards what he represented to her, obstruct her perception of him. Elizabeth had never been very good at appreciating that her opinion was not indubitably the only and accurate one. James's choice, however, causes the scales to fall from her eyes and to recognize that she might have been wrong: about him and about other matters. You can actually see Elizabeth change: perhaps she could even fall in love with him.

After her crew is safely back on the Empress, Elizabeth begins to crawl across the tow line which connects the two ships. Regrettably, James does not have time to cross as well and is trapped. Elizabeth—now conscious of James's love for her and, possibly, her own growing affection for him—begins to return to help him. James sees her coming back to him, for him--and shoots the rope. She can no longer return to him, and the crew of the Dutchman cannot follow her.

It is agony for James to do so. He finally has what he has wanted from her for years: for her to care enough about him to fight for him – to return to him – even to risk her own life for him; but (or, perhaps, because) he still chooses to let her go. He would rather see her safe and face the certainty of dying alone than the possibility that they would die together. Once again, he loves her enough to let her go: to fight for freedom – to help pirates – to *be* a pirate herself – and to be loved by another.

Elizabeth witnesses James being run through by the Dutchman's crew. James's decisive act of disobedience results in his murder—and Elizabeth weeps. She has come to care for him, more than she probably once could have conceived possible, and mourns.


As a side note, Elizabeth and Will are eventually married and have a son. Due to the consequences of a complicated curse, Will is unable to stay with them for ten years, leaving Elizabeth alone to rear their child. The boy's name is never actually spoken in the film (although, in all fairness, the credits do read "Young Will Turner"). Fandom has seemed to have decided that Elizabeth's son is named "James" – or, at least, about 82% of the At World's End-compliant fan fiction I've read has. Since canon is ambiguous, I think the fanon version is appropriate: that Elizabeth would name her son, who signifies her acceptance of her adult responsibilities and the end of her own childhood, after her dutiful friend.


So why do I ship them?



Several reasons, really.

Both James and Elizabeth become better people for knowing each other. James learns that society's ideas of propriety, order, and supposed honor—and the worldly success they can bring—are not necessarily the true proper, decent, and admirable actions to take. Weatherby had noted at the end of Curse of the Black Pearl that "where the right course is committing an act of piracy, then an act of piracy is the right course." Although James had acquiesced to the Swanns at that time, he didn't come to terms with this idea, until his end—a transformation he could have only made from his association with Elizabeth. As for Elizabeth, she loses her preconceptions of James and her prejudices towards and denial of oncoming adult responsibilities, which she had formerly associated with the naval officer.

In addition, neither idealizes the other. Their affinity is not based in fantasy. Both know other's faults—and, yet, they still care about each other. In Elizabeth's case, in fact, it's not until she begins to recognize James's flaws that she begins to like him. Moreover, their failings are similar: their shared ruthlessness and unawareness of that trait.

Finally – and perhaps what makes them so intriguing for fan fiction writers, is that they really *could* have happened in canon. If Elizabeth hadn't fainted during James's proposal. If James had noticed Elizabeth fainting. If James hadn't sailed into that hurricane. If James had been able to leave the Dutchman with Elizabeth. If, If, If ...
All you really have to do is change one thing, and the “what if's” become “might have beens”.


Resources:
The Livejournal Community dedicated to this ship is [livejournal.com profile] norribeth.
Within the community is an ongoing archive of fan fiction about this pairing.
[livejournal.com profile] elessil posted gorgeous CotBP promo pics.

Fan Fiction Recommendations:

Absence and Memory by [livejournal.com profile] meddow (PG) - In “Absence and Memory,” [livejournal.com profile] meddow writes two prequels—one to Curse of the Black Pearl and one to Dead Man’s Chest. Although these could easily be two separate tales, the author intertwines them in such a way that reflects the nonlinear nature of memory.

Adaptation by [livejournal.com profile] the_dala (NC-17) – James discovers what he wants out of life isn't necessarily what he needs.

'The Admiral' Series - The Admiral, The Truth of the Matter, and A Good Man - by [livejournal.com profile] meddow (R) - The residents of Tortuga are confused by and curious about the new stranger amongst them, who they’ve dubbed "The Admiral," due to his tattered but still impressive naval officer’s uniform.

Carpe Diem by [livejournal.com profile] marinarusalka (G) – This is a charming and poignant back-story for James and Elizabeth, in Port Royal, set between the Prologue and the main action of Curse of the Black Pearl, in which they interact under more normal circumstances than we see them in any of the movies. In other words, zombie-free.

a far better fate by [livejournal.com profile] dollsome (PG) – Three ways—one from each movie—that James/Elizabeth could have worked.

Five Ways of Running for Home by [livejournal.com profile] penknife (NC-17) – I debated whether to include this, since only Part IV, "Armed" (which can be read independently), is strictly James/Elizabeth, but that section includes some of the best interaction between the two I've read anywhere.

Requiem by [livejournal.com profile] artic_fox (NC-17) - Set between Elizabeth's discovery of Norrington in Tortuga until Will’s return on the Isle Cruces, “Requiem” focuses on the love/hate relationship James and Elizabeth share at times. There is a brutal honesty between them, with leads to anger and scorn but also to a greater familiarity and understanding than either could have with any other.

Sins of Omission by [livejournal.com profile] tenacitydrader (NC-17) - In the aftermath of Dead Man's Chest, Davy Jones, the Captain of the Flying Dutchman, has sent one of his crew members, Will's father, to deliver a warning: Will must return the Chest to him or die. The small problem being, of course, that Will doesn’t *have* it—although it doesn’t take Elizabeth long to figure out who does.

A Song for the Wretched and Wrecked -Part I and Part II - by [livejournal.com profile] jadeddiva (PG-13) – Point-and-counterpoint, James-and-Elizabeth, if they had gone through with their engagement and marriage at the end of Curse of the Black Pearl. What these two have is a failure to communicate.

A Suitable Distraction (For the Safety of Your Immortal Soul) also by [livejournal.com profile] jadeddiva (PG-13) - James really is Elizabeth's bitch, at times. Worst of all: he *knows* it. Make sure to read the Author's Notes for this one.

Love, or, The End of Fairytales by [livejournal.com profile] ashtonecks (R) – At the end of the world, James and Elizabeth unexpectedly discover each other again. This author weaves a poignant and brutal tale around “what-ifs” and “might-have-beens” and makes you realize that maybe—just maybe--in a world without ghost ships or hurricanes or cursed Aztec gold, the Commodore and the Governor’s Daughter could have had their fairytale.

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