G5, the Fandom, and a Case for Cautious Optimism · 1:24am Jan 30th, 2021
"Lake Painting" by Anticular. I unfortunately don't have links to the original artists for these pictures. But credit will be given as best as I can.
Recently, some information was leaked regarding what is in store for MLP come Generation 5. I leave the particulars to the main article in which this information is found, which I would encourage anyone interested to view in its entirety.
Speculation will of course run its course, but I anticipate that the larger response will focus more upon one main detail: G5 will take place in the same world as G4, but much later on in the timeline.
So far, from what I’ve managed to glean through visiting a few threads, responses have been mixed. Some are hopeful, and more than a few have expressed consternation and outright indignation. Much like the end of Season 3, much like the end of the show, much like, really, any major or minor decision that the show or Hasbro has made, the fandom continues to dominate the narrative with opinion, speculation, haphazard guessing, and more than a little bit of worried expectation.
"Train Country" by Koviry
I suppose, if I am to write a blog about this, in such a way was to express a view regarding the whole matter and then greater things, the first thing I ought to admit is that I am hardly the most serious MLP fan. I came in just before Season 5 aired, meaning I did not have to deal with the worrying fallout (if such a word is not so extreme) that came with the end of Season 3 and Twilight’s ascension, or what Season 4 ended up creating. I was around for the whole debacle with Starlight Glimmer, as well as Equestria Girls, as my stories have no doubt demonstrated.
Even so, as the seasons have continued, I have not kept up with them as well as others. I have not watched every episode from Season 6 onwards, not out of malice or out of contempt, but because I simply do not have the attention span necessary to watch a new episode every week. This is a fault of my own admission, and it’s a reason why I generally have kept out of discussion about the validity of certain episodes, for I admit truly to have a limited view by my own choosing.
Let me be clear. I consider myself a fan of G4 pony, but I admit that the show and its presence has not had such a crucial centerpoint in my life, as it has for others.
When I look, then, at these threads and responses, it strikes me to see so many getting upset or up in arms about what is essentially just a first bit of information—just the tease of the greater picture. Of course, it’s to be expected, since any group which finds itself afforded a morself of truth will inevitably surround itself with loud voices in order to promote it. What I am surprised by is how negative some responses are. They seem to suggest only disaster, regarding G5, and express almost a hostile desire for the latter seasons of the show to not have existed.
That kind of mindset astounds me, though historically I shouldn’t be surprised. By and large, fandoms have always felt possessive about their perceptions. That which fascinates them always has a special place in their hearts, so any action that is but a change in any direction is seen as some kind of attack, or an attempt to alter what was so beloved. Famously, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was subjected to such fandom-related barrages after he killed off Sherlock Holmes in “The Final Problem,” to the point where he eventually did bring the famed detective back. And reportedly, at least one noble lady, upset that a character, one of her favorites, died in a certain play, wrote to the play’s writer and demanded that he change their fate. That playwright was William Shakespeare.
For something as simple as a world of talking ponies, it’s amazing that the fandom should have assumed such a verbose and concrete identity that nevertheless splinters off into many opposing groups and opinions, while still retaining some semblance of unity regarding the show itself. We have, I am sure, all heard of the infamous “anti-Twilicorn” bronies, the “anti-Trixie,” the “anti-Starlight Glimmer,” and at this point we have definitely heard of the “anti-Season 9” brigades. Going in a more nuanced direction, we get to see individuals who rise above show ought to be discarded (coincidentally, many turn to Season 9 for evidence to either case).
When the show aired its final episode, I enjoyed it immensely. Even as I had not watched the entirety of Season 9, and most likely will not, I still thought that the show knew how it wanted to end. “The Last Problem” is not my favorite episode by any means, but I liked what it did, and believed that the show understood how to wrap itself up. You can imagine my surprise to find that so many people had issues with it, but, to my further incredulity, it was not necessarily issues with the writing so much as the implications.
From the supposed canonicity of certain couples to the supposed implication that Twilight has become the new Celestia and therefore must be immortal, and therefore, will outlive her friends, outcry reached far and wide. Thankfully I never had to deal with any of it in the immediate sense, because by that time, I had decided, Yes, the show is over, but I’m happy to have been along for the ride, and now I can return, as we all must, to the real world. But many seem intent on blasting the fandom with their viewpoints. It seems an almost personal affront, the way the show came to an end. Hasbro did us dirty, they may say. The writers are incompetent. The show sucks, Twilight will not outlive her friends. The ending is not canon and can never be considered such!
On and on.
If, at this point, I sound a little sardonic, I apologize. From an outward standpoint I can understand the barest hint of why these things mean so much to so many. When your heart is tied up with something magical, you set expectations up for how it ought to end, or if it should end in the first place. MLP is a special thing, so no doubt that the elements with which the show ended itself would stir the pot and upset more than a few stomachs.
Yet in regarding the many arguments that have sought to unpack and unravel the mystery of canon and what should be accepted within the show, I’m struck by how thin they feel. I will preface this by saying I don’t mean to strawman such arguments or make fun of their validity, for they do come from a genuine place of genuine criticism. But much of the underlying sentiments and rhetoric is not tied up in strict observance of would-be laws or patterns that the artform for which they are directed seems to require. They emerge, rather, from a place of pure emotion, and that emotion tends towards anger or resentment.
Let me generalize, knowing that is risky. Let us say that the main, general issue that some fans have with the show’s ending is that it is bad writing. Yet how can one argue that without evidence?
Let us consider what even is bad writing first; but have any confronted that question and sought to unravel it? I haven’t found anyone to have given a good definition yet, even though, it seems to me, that this is the crux of that entire issue.
Let me generalize further. What is the main goal of such arguments, if not to demonstrate what is good or bad writing? It seems, to me, that the goal is simply to ask for a different ending. Not the ending that would make the executives happy or which would sell the most of a product, but the ending that these fans desire. The ending that was dreamed up but never realized, because how could it end but in the way that they imagined?
It’s Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Shakespeare all over again.
"Autumn Blaze" by Nemo2D
What I’m essentially saying is that I am confused by the excitement - and I use that word in its oldest usage, meaning general upheaval of emotions, good and bad. There has been so much stock put into the show that it seems to have perverted many sentiments regarding it—I don’t know how many, but that’s a moot point. Now it is over, and people still clamor on. We still write fanfics and produce art and such, and we still are complaining and moaning and groaning. G5 looks to be the same, but also I sense it is going in a new direction, and yet, for all that uncertainty, people have gotten upset already.
My critique of the old arguments is simply that there haven't been any good arguments made that appear to be worth any amount of breath that these arguermentors are wasting. Perhaps this is cold of me to say, and perhaps it’s a sign that I was not really a “fan’s fan.” But, come on, it’s a show about talking ponies, designed for little girls, and made to sell toys. I don’t know how serious an argument can truly be regarding it.
Not that, of course, a product ought to get in the way of good writing, but I’ve noted privately that those who complain the most seem not to be aware of the many trials that go into writing, and art, in general. With a corporate background such as Hasbro being in the same room, the process is no longer independent. It has a foundation based on money, and yes, that may make it a bit dishonest, it still has direction, and from what I understood, the corporation gave the writers as much leeway as they could, given sales figures, pitches, demographics, et cetera all night long.
How many of us are so married to the show that we do not realize we are not married to the show, but rather, to our idea of it? In much the same way that the idealization of figures leads to disappointment, is it such a stretch to see the show in the same manner?
It has good writing, but that doesn’t mean it’s the greatest. Here’s a short list of some things I think have been written better: The original Twilight Zone series; Anna Karenina; Beloved; To Kill A Mockingbird. Yet we don’t have fans clamoring about whether Rod Sterling messed up by Season 2, or if Tolstoy should have ended his book after the fifth section, or if Toni Morrison should not have had the ghost be somewhat alive at the end, or if Harper Lee should have killed a mockingbird.
Why are we getting up in arms about something that, reasonably, has no obligation to care about us?
Simply, it’s because we care so much about it. And that, it seems, has dominated many of our thoughts and feelings, and has thus created this strange atmosphere. And yet, in doing so, we forget what brings us together more. We forget that there are still many things to love. We forget that we have the opportunity to simply be happy with what we want to be happy with. Perhaps we are uniquely obsessed with being upset because, simply, it is familiar. And if that is the case, would it be better to leave? Would it be better to stay, but work to change that mindset?
Who knows. Not the people, I think, who are already signing their angry letters.
"Untitled" by Plainoasis
I feel I am talking in circles at this point, but there is only one direction through confusion: forward, and if you loop back around, you try another direction.
Having read over the article, I can say this with absolute certainty: we’ll see. We’ll see what happens with G5, and we’ll see whether or not it will be as good as G4. But that will have to be the future. The now requires other worries and attentions, after all.
In effect I remain as I usually am: cautiously optimistic. I know nothing and therefore expect nothing. But that is because I have the luxury of having other things to worry about, to be expectant for, to have certain predictions and to assume mean something to me as I do to them.
Is that, perhaps, also why the fandom is always in this cycle of self-deprecation and harassment of the creative work itself? But whose fault is that? Does it even matter?
Well, I can’t say. My attention, currently, is divided between writing what I want and enjoying what I can. There’s no time for this kind of criticism when there is so much of the pony world that I can still handle. Wouldn’t you know it! I’m approaching my fifth year on this site, and all this drama—how nice that hasn’t meant anything, and how nice that I still like My Little Pony.
I wish I could favorite this blog as you make a lot of good points. I was bummed when the show ended. (Okay, I cried.
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But that didn't change the fact that I still love the show, warts and all.
Personally, I look forward to G5. I hope Hasbro gives us bug ponies and catbirds. I hope for a lot of things. We'll see.
It is natural, I believe, for people to be concerned about the future of something they enjoy - they want to see it continue to give them that same good feeling as you pointed out. It is perhaps even more justified given the current state of entertainment where no franchise is safe it seems. While I have been the most active in pony in my short time in the fandom, I was a Star Wars fan since a young foal and also fell in love with the character of Doctor Who in secondary school - one can clearly see the trajectory those series have taken. (In fairness, Star Wars is slowly being redeemed.)
However, your final paragraphs express the correct sentiment - we should not become so enthralled in pony that we are blind to the simple fact that there is much more that matters. At the end of the day, it is entertainment, something that is not real. I am not saying this to diminish the real impact it can have, or the very real work and meaning that are in the artistic products of both the show and fandom.
I look forward to the next generation of My Little Pony, especially since I entered the fandom well after the end of the FiM. But I also have much more to look forward to that does not involve magical talking ponies - my own very real life. At the end of the day, if the new series of pony ends up being terrible or, conversely, good, it will make no difference to me just like the decline of Star Wars or Doctor Who. Life goes on.
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For my money, I'd love to see more kirins in the show.
I'm glad you found my mild rambling to have some amount of cohesion and sense to it.
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It is curious to see people who have become to intertwined with the "going-ons" of the fandom that any change that is to come to it or its source should incur such wrathful responses. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who can maintain an even head, and it's good to share in that hope.
Perhaps, to clarify further upon a brief point, it's by virtue of the fact that pony has not been my dominant mode of personality so much as it's been an escape from it, for why I'm inclined towards more median sentiments. I wish I could fully wrap my head around people who seriously become so upset over it, as though one's own child were at stake. I suppose I can only wish so much, though; and at any rate, I'd prefer not to feed more into the origin of "fan" as a "fanatic" in and of itself.