I'm sorry, but I just read that scene completely differently, so we'll probably just have to agree to disagree on this.
I see Ten knowing that Martha's going to leave and not wanting to face losing her, so he babbles on about where to go next. But when she brings it up he knows the moment has come, and he gracefully accepts her decision to leave and thanks her for being awesome, even though he's hurting over being left alone again. He keeps his heartbreak to himself and focuses on telling her how great she is ("Martha Jones, you saved the world," which is a pretty huge acknowledgment!) And then she says she felt second best, but realizes she isn't, and he gives that chuckle of agreement. Because of course he doesn't think she's second best, and he's happy that she's realized it.
Then she comes back and gives her speech about unrequited love, and he doesn't say much because that's her big moment of self-realization. It's nothing to do with him (unless you buy into the whole "he's morally obligated to fall in love with her" argument); it's about her resolving her crush and moving on.
It's so patently obvious that he doesn't think she's second best in any kind of personal way. The only way he thinks she's second best is in a romantic sense, which, well, she is, through no fault of her own or any fault of his, just because sometimes romance doesn't work out.
As far as Ten being unresponsive... Ten is so emotionally unresponsive. It's one of his defining traits; that he can't stand facing difficult emotional situations. He runs away not because he doesn't care, but because he cares so much that he can't deal with the pain. He can't bring himself to say goodbye to Sarah Jane, to go back and deal with Jack, to talk about Gallifrey. He's constantly claiming he's all right when he isn't (GitF, 42). For all the complaints about how emo he is, Ten's method of dealing with emotional trauma is Repress Repress Repress. (Part of the greatness of "Doomsday" is that he finally gets over this enough to say goodbye, but it's too little too late in that his time runs out before he manages to tell Rose he loves her.)
It's as though somehow, at the worst moments, dramatically, her feelings are less real than his. That's practically the definition of absent respect. It's not just Martha who gets this, either; the end of LotTL is very similar to the end of GitF, where there's just as little follow-through
I really don't see this. In both GitF and LotTL, we see the events through the companion's POV. Of course we know that they're hurting. And the Doctor doesn't talk to them about it, because that's how he is; he runs rather than deal with emotional situations. But it's not like he's pouring out his pain to them either; he hides from his own pain too, puts on a happy face, and tries to move forward without dealing.
He abandons Rose and Mickey on a ship full of killer androids with no expectation of being able to get back to them—yet nobody mentions to him that this was fairly astonishing, ever.
The killer androids had been stopped. It was a life or death situation, and he choose the immediate life-saving action. It's not like he wanted to leave Rose and Mickey; as much as he liked Reinette he was immediately angsting about being stuck in the past. And he was looking out into the stars planning to get back to Rose and Mickey the very slow way, and immediately leaped at the chance to get back to them.
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Date: 2008-01-28 12:01 am (UTC)I see Ten knowing that Martha's going to leave and not wanting to face losing her, so he babbles on about where to go next. But when she brings it up he knows the moment has come, and he gracefully accepts her decision to leave and thanks her for being awesome, even though he's hurting over being left alone again. He keeps his heartbreak to himself and focuses on telling her how great she is ("Martha Jones, you saved the world," which is a pretty huge acknowledgment!) And then she says she felt second best, but realizes she isn't, and he gives that chuckle of agreement. Because of course he doesn't think she's second best, and he's happy that she's realized it.
Then she comes back and gives her speech about unrequited love, and he doesn't say much because that's her big moment of self-realization. It's nothing to do with him (unless you buy into the whole "he's morally obligated to fall in love with her" argument); it's about her resolving her crush and moving on.
It's so patently obvious that he doesn't think she's second best in any kind of personal way. The only way he thinks she's second best is in a romantic sense, which, well, she is, through no fault of her own or any fault of his, just because sometimes romance doesn't work out.
As far as Ten being unresponsive... Ten is so emotionally unresponsive. It's one of his defining traits; that he can't stand facing difficult emotional situations. He runs away not because he doesn't care, but because he cares so much that he can't deal with the pain. He can't bring himself to say goodbye to Sarah Jane, to go back and deal with Jack, to talk about Gallifrey. He's constantly claiming he's all right when he isn't (GitF, 42). For all the complaints about how emo he is, Ten's method of dealing with emotional trauma is Repress Repress Repress. (Part of the greatness of "Doomsday" is that he finally gets over this enough to say goodbye, but it's too little too late in that his time runs out before he manages to tell Rose he loves her.)
It's as though somehow, at the worst moments, dramatically, her feelings are less real than his. That's practically the definition of absent respect. It's not just Martha who gets this, either; the end of LotTL is very similar to the end of GitF, where there's just as little follow-through
I really don't see this. In both GitF and LotTL, we see the events through the companion's POV. Of course we know that they're hurting. And the Doctor doesn't talk to them about it, because that's how he is; he runs rather than deal with emotional situations. But it's not like he's pouring out his pain to them either; he hides from his own pain too, puts on a happy face, and tries to move forward without dealing.
He abandons Rose and Mickey on a ship full of killer androids with no expectation of being able to get back to them—yet nobody mentions to him that this was fairly astonishing, ever.
The killer androids had been stopped. It was a life or death situation, and he choose the immediate life-saving action. It's not like he wanted to leave Rose and Mickey; as much as he liked Reinette he was immediately angsting about being stuck in the past. And he was looking out into the stars planning to get back to Rose and Mickey the very slow way, and immediately leaped at the chance to get back to them.
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