A Royal Problem: a brief review and appeal to the Hasbro Overlords

I have no delusions about the importance of my opinion or the visibility thereof, but nevertheless I feel the time has come to express my thoughts regarding the episode "A Royal Problem". I realize this is somewhat delayed. This is due to a desire to avoid the influence of emotion in articulating my admittedly narrowly-focused views, and the mental processing required to come to the realization that while a window of opportunity has likely closed, there is at least pathos in calling out for justice.

When I first learned of the premise of A Royal Problem, never before had I anticipated an MLP episode so keenly. The two greatest fictional characters of the past thirty years or more (I'll say it again) were finally to get their due. The mysterious relationship of Celestia and Luna was to be revealed in detail for the first time. The unresolved animosity between them would at last see the light of day, and perhaps the long-standing wound would be healed.

"A Royal Problem" is a good episode. I would even go so far as to say it's a great episode. It is not however, the one I needed or expected to see. Before exploring the possibilities of what might have been, however, it's only fair to discuss the merits of what actually transpired.

The disruptive potential of having Starlight Glimmer be the mediator is quickly dealt with in her early conversation with Twilight. As the former top student of Celestia, Twilight would be unable to fairly resolve conflicts between the Sisters, always leaning in favor of her mentor's cause. What then? "Sorry, Luna, but Princess Celestia has a point. You kind of don't do much at night, and sleep all day. And oh yeah, Equestria got along just fine without you for ten centuries, and me and my friends had to kick your withers when you got back to get you to see even the slightest bit of reason, so why don't you apologize to your sister, go back to your room and think about your life choices?" That would have made for a difficult resolution. Instead, the neutrality and general cluelessness of Starlight are splendidly used to generate a believable character dynamic.

The tone of the episode was refreshingly buoyant, steady-paced, and uncluttered. The characterization details were much-needed and appropriate. Of course Luna hangs lavender from the wall sconces to help the castle denizens sleep. She cares about their well-being. And listen to the music playing during her stint about Canterlot doing Celestia's work. Recall the humble, innocent activities she tends to. That is distilled Saturday morning sunshine. You'll open the lunchbox at school the following Monday to the smell of apples, peanut butter celery and lunches past. Everything is right in the world; the teleology will come back around, but not too fast or too hard.

And of course Celestia makes deluxe pancakes for Luna and whoever else happens to drop by. That's what mom/grandma does.

There are even a few moments that approach the emotional potential that is always in the background between the Sisters: Celestia sheltering Luna from her nightmare like the precious treasure that she is. Luna drying Celestia's tears of self-doubt, reminding her that she's strong, and that she believes in her. And of course the L word at the end.

The problem that is dealt with is lack of appreciation of others' daily trials and contributions. It's difficult to see or even imagine outside our respective ego bubbles, i.e., to think outside the narrative of our own personal mythos. To be able to do so can be seen as a sign of maturity. Celestia and Luna walk a mile in each other's shoes, discover that they pinch or flop depending, learn something about themselves and come to an understanding.

But ... what about this

and this

and this?

Luna tried to kill Celestia, destroying the life they shared as sisters and co-rulers, thereby making their connection with the Elements of Harmony impossible. She was rightly unable to accept the too-easy forgiveness for her actions, and proceeded to supply for herself the punishment she wasn't receiving. This is the royal problem. Would addressing it be too heavy for the target demographic? I would humbly suggest that it wouldn't. We're all susceptible to the fear of not obtaining the forgiveness we desire (assuming, of course, that we admit the possibility of wrongdoing). Children will go to great lengths to avoid fessing up to their parents that they sprinkled pepper all over the floor to plant pepper trees, or deleting the favorites folder from the family internet browser. And there are probably one or two adults here and there who avoid difficult conversations for fear of the aftermath.

The longer a dialogue is deferred, the more pain there tends to be. The deeper reconciliation between Celestia and Luna would involve tears of a different quality. How do you articulate an apology for attempted murder? How do you convince someone that they're forgiven for such a crime?

But now it's too late, isn't it? We've covered the ground of Royal Sisters' incongruity, and it would be awkward to appear to retread it. Would it? I'm still here waiting, my money ready to be invested and donated in their names, my perspective set to change. And so I invoke and entreat Hasbro's hidden powers that be: why not display your treasures? Why not turn the cameras on the elephant in the room? Why not create value and save the world?

And if I seem overly zealous, I'd submit for consideration that art can be both humble and powerful at the same time.