elisi | Meta: Becoming Eleven

None of this is new, exactly, but a post by

green_maia (and especially

shipperx's comments) made me think. And my thoughts got a bit long, so I posted them here rather than there. Scattered musings on what makes Eleven Eleven and how he has developed:

ETA: Cross-posted to

metatardis here. Some great comments, this one especially.

1. "Trust me, I'm the Doctor." How often do we hear this? How often has he picked up Companions, and destroyed their trust? Changed them through what they see and experience, until finally they leave/are left behind. What I love about Amy is that this is just the beginning of her story. The Doctor, quite literally, spends the whole season trying to earn back the trust he broke, trying to fix her, make her who she should have been. And, miraculously, he succeeds! Or rather... through his actions he enables her to reclaim what she lost. Which brings me to the next part:

2. Eleven is very paternal/teacherly, as many have noted. But not the kind that tries to impose his own teachings - right from the start he pushes people towards discovering things for themselves. Most prominently (and almost cruelly) in 'Amy's Choice', but it's something that runs through the season. We see it in 'The Pandorica Opens' when he pushes Rory into declaring that Amy is the most important thing to him, thus establishing his humanity; in 'The Lodger' when he gets Sophie to realise that all that's stopping her from realising her dreams is herself; in 'Vampires of Venice' when he takes Amy and Rory 'on a date', helping them bond... And, jumping right back to the start, in 'The Eleventh Hour' when he - quite simply through making the Atraxi answer questions for it/themselves - makes them run away.

3. And finally. At the beginning of the season, I think we are shown how Eleven, step by step, un-learns his bad habits from being Ten. (Bad phrasing, I know. Can anyone think of a better description? I'm not talking about overcoming his traumas, I mean getting rid of the patterns he was stuck in):

First (and most crucially) we have 'The Beast Below' where Eleven behaves very much like Ten: There is a terrible choice to be made and he (automatically) sees himself as the person to shoulder it, the one to carry the pain and the responsibility and guilt... Except Amy intervenes, showing him that a) He can be wrong (dangerously so - and not just in his actions but in his understanding of a situation), b) EVERYTHING isn't his responsibility and c) He is not a Lonely God, or an Avenging Angel - when she looks at him, she sees a kind old man, a man who came and chased away the nightmares when she was young. I honestly don't think the effects of this can be overstated.

After this comes 'Victory of the Daleks', which teaches him something else: It's possible to lose the war, but win the battles - and that's not too shabby. Life goes on even if he is not Victorious.

And then the Angel episodes which bring with them River... River who I love almost as much as a metaphor as a character. 'Water always wins' Ten said, but he still fought - fought so hard and so desperately that it broke him. (See this exquisite essay on 'The Waters of Mars'.) But over the course of these two episodes he learns to trust the water once more - to follow the river wherever it might lead him, to once more believe in fairy tales and happy endings. And he begins to truly live and not just survive.

(All of it leading to Eleven being someone who focusses on other people, rather than himself, culminating in his quiet sacrifice for Amy [and the universe], able to set aside any personal fears so he can reassure a frightened girl.)

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I think I already commented on this over at metardis, but as BBC America is slow I have just finally seen the finale, and that made me think of something else.

When Eleven is preparing to step into the cracks, and he's saying his final goodbyes to Amy, he says that he thought that he could hold on if she could hear him, but that that was just the old him and that he realizes that it's time for him to go. He seems very sad and resigned as he tells her that last story. But later, when Amy remembers him at her wedding, he's already dressed up in a coat and tails, and seems to have expected her to remember him all along.

My question being, do you think when he told her that story about him and the TARDIS, did he know that she would bring him back?

I think he hoped she would. He definitely included certain specific details (old, new, borrowed, bluest blue) that would hopefully help things to click together for her.

So the fact that he dressed up shows how much faith he had in her. :)

Oh, I like that.

I guess what I meant was how the memory he seeded for Amy reflected on his changing nature. Because where Ten was very unpredictable and swung between haphazardly risking his life for others to moping about the possibility of impending death, Eleven seems both very deliberate about what he's doing when he sacrifices himself, first by flying the Pandorica into the TARDIS, and again when he steps into the cracks. He's aware of the consequences, and he seems very resigned to them, if also somewhat regretful.

Ten seems to think he's invincible (or that he should be), which makes his risk-taking seem irresponsible and show-offish. Eleven, on the other hand, seems to be able to resign himself precisely because he has come to a more mature understanding of his own mortality and place in the universe. And here's where I get tripped up--if he knew that Amy could bring him back, doesn't that, to an extent, negate the implications of growth of his sacrifice? If he knew it wasn't really goodbye?

He's aware of the consequences, and he seems very resigned to them, if also somewhat regretful.
*nods a lot* As

green_maia said the other day - with Ten it's always personal. Eleven sometimes makes it personal (see Vampires of Venice) but is generally much better at looking at thing objectively.

Ten seems to think he's invincible (or that he should be), which makes his risk-taking seem irresponsible and show-offish. Eleven, on the other hand, seems to be able to resign himself precisely because he has come to a more mature understanding of his own mortality and place in the universe.
Yes. I also think Ten is very controlling - if he can control things, then they can't hurt him. (There's more to this, but I don't have the time.)

And here's where I get tripped up--if he knew that Amy could bring him back, doesn't that, to an extent, negate the implications of growth of his sacrifice? If he knew it wasn't really goodbye?
I don't think so. He was erased from time, after all - not just dead but unmade - and his only way back was through the memory of a young girl. She might not have remembered. (And without River's prompting she might not have.) He plays it cool of course when he returns (because he's the Doctor and he knows how awesome he is), but it was a chance in a million.

He plays it cool of course when he returns (because he's the Doctor and he knows how awesome he is), but it was a chance in a million.

Oh, that's a nice way of putting it. I think you're right. And in the same way that it would have ruined it if it had been quite obvious that he would return, it would have been somewhat out of character and too much if he, like Amy, had been all tearful and overwhelmed when he came back. It was much more subtle, the way they showed his joy through his ridiculous dancing and all those long looks he gave Amy and Rory.

It was much more subtle, the way they showed his joy through his ridiculous dancing and all those long looks he gave Amy and Rory.
Exactly - so much of Eleven is show, don't tell (which is one reason I love it so much). He is just so brimming with joy in those last scenes that it's almost ridiculous. (River's ominous 'I'm sorry - everything is going to *change*!!!' just leaves him smiling. He's there to experience it, that's what matters!)

Meta: Becoming Eleven

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