I'm very interested in your point about the perspective that the Doctor gains by those 200 years alone. With Ten that would have been a recipe for disaster. He was completely unable to cope with the self-examination that demanded of him, hence all the desperate running around looking for diversions like marrying Liz 1.
You argue very persuasively that SM really does address the issues that RTD raises. From an aesthetic POV, I find Moffatt's writing too mythic to enjoy as deeply as I did RTD's, in the sense that he would rather explore the symbolic value of his characters than the immediate microcosm of their emotions. Sorry, I'm not putting that awfully well but, for example, while people reasonably criticised the narrative problem of Reinette showing up and the Doctor running after her in context of his feelings about Rose at that point, GITF still functioned perfectly as an exploration of the Doctor's existential loneliness in a world where almost all relationships were transient for him.
My contention has always been that RTD's focus was on the Doctor's attempt to pass as human, which was pathological, part of his PTD after the Time War. It was natural that he should seek a human mate but I think there's a moment in Doomsday where he's forced to acknowledge that's delusional, and can never really solve his problems - it's when Rose tells her Mum, "He does it all on his own, but now he's got me," and Ten knows, even as his heart is breaking, that it isn't enough.
In RTD's Who we see the terrible consequences of humans trying to step up to the plate and meet the Doctor's needs. Rose in POTW, for example. Arguably, the whole of Torchwood explores the theme of humans trying to do what the Doctor does, when he isn't around, and it's a tragedy at heart. They all die, apart from Jack, who ends up with even worse problems than the Doctor. And of course, Donna can't survive with a Time Head in a human body.
No, it has to be another Time Lord/Lady that saves the Doctor, and this is her story. The Tenth Doctor had to die, and along with him the whole myth that he could solve his problems by becoming human (I sometimes wonder if there's a bit of a gay metaphor going on, there, since you could see his whole narrative arc as an example of passing as straight to the point of trying to make a go of it with a hetero partner, but in the end it's leading nowhere, you can only be who you are - and that means regenerating, no matter how hard you fight it). Ten ended with a requiem - that version of the Doctor really had to die, and not just because DT was leaving.
Finally, just a point about promethia tenk's comments - the Trickster and the greenwood - I would say this, but that is so precisely a description of Shakespearian comedy that it takes my breath away.
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I'm very interested in your point about the perspective that the Doctor gains by those 200 years alone. With Ten that would have been a recipe for disaster. He was completely unable to cope with the self-examination that demanded of him, hence all the desperate running around looking for diversions like marrying Liz 1.
You argue very persuasively that SM really does address the issues that RTD raises. From an aesthetic POV, I find Moffatt's writing too mythic to enjoy as deeply as I did RTD's, in the sense that he would rather explore the symbolic value of his characters than the immediate microcosm of their emotions. Sorry, I'm not putting that awfully well but, for example, while people reasonably criticised the narrative problem of Reinette showing up and the Doctor running after her in context of his feelings about Rose at that point, GITF still functioned perfectly as an exploration of the Doctor's existential loneliness in a world where almost all relationships were transient for him.
My contention has always been that RTD's focus was on the Doctor's attempt to pass as human, which was pathological, part of his PTD after the Time War. It was natural that he should seek a human mate but I think there's a moment in Doomsday where he's forced to acknowledge that's delusional, and can never really solve his problems - it's when Rose tells her Mum, "He does it all on his own, but now he's got me," and Ten knows, even as his heart is breaking, that it isn't enough.
In RTD's Who we see the terrible consequences of humans trying to step up to the plate and meet the Doctor's needs. Rose in POTW, for example. Arguably, the whole of Torchwood explores the theme of humans trying to do what the Doctor does, when he isn't around, and it's a tragedy at heart. They all die, apart from Jack, who ends up with even worse problems than the Doctor. And of course, Donna can't survive with a Time Head in a human body.
No, it has to be another Time Lord/Lady that saves the Doctor, and this is her story. The Tenth Doctor had to die, and along with him the whole myth that he could solve his problems by becoming human (I sometimes wonder if there's a bit of a gay metaphor going on, there, since you could see his whole narrative arc as an example of passing as straight to the point of trying to make a go of it with a hetero partner, but in the end it's leading nowhere, you can only be who you are - and that means regenerating, no matter how hard you fight it). Ten ended with a requiem - that version of the Doctor really had to die, and not just because DT was leaving.
Finally, just a point about promethia tenk's comments - the Trickster and the greenwood - I would say this, but that is so precisely a description of Shakespearian comedy that it takes my breath away.
Sorry to go on, but there's so much there!