Skip to content

what Loki wants

December 28, 2014

[Note: I have not read Avengers comics in 40 years; I have no idea what’s canon. All I have to go on is what I saw in the movies I’ve recently watched, and what I know of Norse mythology.]

The opening scene of the movie, Thor, stays with me. The character of Thor strides boldly through a cavernous throne room, filled with throngs of cheering supporters. Fans, essentially. All there to celebrate Thor’s ascension to . . . something kingly, I guess.

In the movies, Thor has a band of 4 buddies he adventures with. He is widely loved, and his parents dote on him.

As presented, Thor is physically gorgeous, and has a lovely twinkle in his eye when he’s pleased, but . . . has no discernible sense of humor. I guess he doesn’t need one — his life is a bowl of cherries.

Loki . . . has no friends. Thor’s buddies seem to think he’s inherently untrustworthy, cowardly, a pain in the ass. I don’t know about Frigga, but Odin seems to not even realize that, while he thought he was raising 2 boys as potentially-equal heirs, deep down inside, he thinks Loki is monstrous, and unworthy of his love, regard; certainly not a king-in-the-making.

Loki, a shapeshifter, definitely has a sense of humor. And he can cry, feel deep grief. I wouldn’t be surprised if people told him he was “too sensitive”, or that they had no idea what he was talking about.


Although it makes no sense to me that a Chaotic character would aspire to being “king”, in the movies, Loki wants to be king, and manages to be acting king through deception. I bet the experience wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he thought it would be.

When you wield great power . . . but no one respects you, nor do they like you . . . that’s a very bitter place to be.

Maybe Loki dreamed about the opening scene, just substituting himself for his brother. Except that . . . there’s no way to get there. That adulation depends on perfectly embodying the ideals of your clan and/or society, which Loki doesn’t.


What would Loki actually enjoy? What social scenario could provide an equivalent level of satisfaction and enjoyment?


I’m feeling very Loki lately.

And I’ve been thinking about what I would enjoy/find immensely satisfying, socially.

  • I love “talking shop”. It doesn’t even have to be a specific field I personally know a lot about (although it obviously helps if I do).
  • If I can talk my own process, and how/why I came up with, even better.
  • I relish receiving insightful and useful feedback. {Data I don’t have and can’t get.}
  • I love love love being able to give insightful and useful feedback to others.

I’m not a perfectionist, but I have many friends who are. I read their fiction that makes me weep with its unearthly beauty, despair I’ll ever be able to write a fraction as well, and then . . . have to listen to them denigrate the work and themselves, saying how much they suck. UGH.

I guess I’m supposed to denigrate my own stuff in return, and then we can all bond over how shitty we are? UGH^2.

I love being me. I love thinking. I love writing poetry. I love writing prose. Am I super-talented, super-skilled at writing poetry and prose? I’m pretty sure I’m not: relatively speaking, I haven’t been doing either very long. What I don’t know is functionally infinite. I can always improve, blah blah blah. I certainly intend to improve . . . because I really love doing this stuff.

People who never read poetry . . . have liked (some) poems I’ve written. I think that’s pretty cool.

I don’t think there are any poets in the world who can “make a living at poetry”, but even if there are, I don’t want to be one of them.

I don’t want to teach poetry to other people. I don’t want to directly help other people write poetry.

I’m undecided about whether I might enjoy receiving awards for my poetry — the prospect seems so unlikely, it’s akin to imagining how I would feel if I won the lottery (which I don’t play). Maybe it would be nice though.

  • I want to be able to honestly admit that I like my own stuff, and I think it has value.
  • I can be an effusive fanperson for stuff I like. I want to be able to do that to the creator of said stuff without us having to go through the dance of “I’m not worthy of your praise; my stuff sucks”.
  • I want my discernment, my “professional judgment”, to be valued by others. I want my opinions to be sought (at least sometimes).

I am so rarely asked for my considered opinions about anything that I regularly spend time on social media looking for someone talking about something interesting — even complete strangers! — just so I can offer an opinion, that might receive a favorable response. This thing I’ve been doing unconsciously for years, when I realize that’s what I’m doing, only then do I feel like . . . “I must be stupid and worthless. Otherwise someone else I like would care what I think.”

I think I would enjoy someone whose judgment (about writing and/or art) I respect telling me something complimentary about my poems: they do X skillfully; they evoke Y sensitively; I felt something I’ve never felt before when I read Z. I’m not even sure what specific types of feedback I might actually like the best, because I’ve never received any like that.

  • I want to be good at something valued by other people whom I like and respect.

I hate constantly feeling like [Loki, in that] I’m really skilled at a bunch of things that . . . have no value to anyone I know. “I’m an expert! on Trashy Stupid Thing No One Cares About! Go ahead: ask me anything!”

Instead, I’m functionally the pesky younger sibling tagging along.

I have to be able to do things. That are valued by others.

I’ve had years and years of therapy. I’ve liked myself all along. But I don’t know how to “fix” other people thinking I’m worthless and stupid. The only way that gets changed is finding something I can do / only I can do that they value. I’ve had very little luck at that.

I’d like to see the movie or book written that showcases Loki’s talents and strengths, in a world that values Chaotic abilities alongside Neutral and Lawful abilities. I’d like to be able to imagine that reality.

No comments yet

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: