Bones 10.08 The Puzzler In The Pit

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Bones 10.08 The Puzzler In The Pit

Post by ThyneAlone »

I really did think someone had started this one already, but looks like I am first up this time - let me know if otherwise and I'll merge this with other comments

Bones episodes about children and family always ring sincere and compassionate. The bullying doula is rejected when Daisy discovers that she really wants to be with her friends ("family") at the time of her delivery. I hope this hasn't put people off consulting doulas as birth mentors. They are for the most part warm and supportive individuals, reassuringly knowledgeable and able to advise but desirous of leading the mother-to-be to the birth with which she feels most comfortable. Daisy's has found her at a vulnerable time, trying to get her life back together after a tragedy, and has used her as a kind of vessel for her own credo rather than finding out what Daisy's own needs are. As the others rightly observe, this is tantamount to giving Daisy a new (new-age, actually!) personality. I was a little surprised that Angela took against this with the others - she has always seemed far more open to this kind of thing, whereas Brennan was obviously going to dismiss it with some scorn. It was, however, a lovely scene at the end as Daisy gave birth with all those closest to her standing around (seriously - would so many be allowed in a delivery room? And wouldn't she be encouraged to move around rather than lying on her back the whole time?). The baby was simply gorgeous. Just as well he is enchanting if he is going to be saddled with Seeley Lance Wick-Sweets for the remainder of his life.

The puzzler's case was quite an interesting, if sad, one. Another side of the parent/child coin; while Daisy is keen to communicate with her child even in the womb as an affirmation of new life, the victim here lost touch with his own offspring early on and, when he might have been ready to re-establish ties, was, thanks to his condition, so unable to reach out that his lack of communication quite literally led to his death (I felt deeply for the son when he realised what had happened; I never understand why these accidental killers don't go straight to someone and admit it rather than dumping a body and attempting to swamp it with acid). The horror of Alzheimer's, of watching a loved one slowly lose every last vestige of him/herself over a tortuous and prolonged period, was underlined over and over again. The wife was trying to keep something of him alive - the vivid intelligence, the pleasure in communicating by a sort of code - by publishing those crosswords. And perhaps, indeed, the only record any of us can have of our existence is in the creations we leave behind us.
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"We make our lives out of chaos and hope. And love." - Angela Montenegro