Happy New Year to employees of the magnus institute, Happy New Year to avatars of otherworldly beings of fear, Happy New Year to werewolf police officers, Happy New Year to gay apocalypse starters, Happy New Year to ‘Somewhere Else’, and Happy New Year to Jonathan Sims.
MAG 1 - ‘Angler Fish’ - Jon’s professional aggression.
It’s highly notable that in his introduction to his first recording Jon is angry, stuck up, and incredibly defensive. In almost every sentence he exclaims his hatred, disappointment, and disapproval of something or someone. This level of aggression, presented under the guise of genuine academic concern is not in line with real aggression, but much more closely aligned to fear.
Jonathan Sims is scared. He’s totally not qualified for the job he’s landed himself in, he’s creating an access mode into the archives for many future researchers, and he’s got absolutely no idea how he found himself in this situation. He’s backed into a corner and lashing out feels safer than settling down, but there aren’t many ways to lash out and simultaneously keep your job.
Being snarky with Martin; hating the tape recorders; complaining about Gertrudes standard of work; it’s all irrelevant when it comes down to it. The whole introduction pretty much sets us up for his failure, it’s not so much an introduction as it is a premature excuse for future mistakes.
It’s all so enamoured with that clunky, embarrassing, flushed feeling at the start of a new job where its all going wrong and you’re totally sure you’re gonna be sacked. He’s already been unable to record statements to his computer, entirely quashing his plans for a digital archive, and there’s already tension among his staff, probably making him feel like a totally inadequate boss!
What a way to start a job: inadequate, insecure, and totally aware of the reality of the supernatural horrors you try so hard to ignore.
Jane prentiss so effectively impersonating Martin over text clearly means one of three things:
-Martin didn’t text very much so it’d be hard to judge whether it was his typing voice or not. (unlikely)
-Martin texts in such an unpredictable way that such a change of tone wouldn’t be weird. (possible)
-OR, Jane Prentiss scrolled through all his texts giggling and kicking her legs at his pitiful yearning, and copied him like a teenager role-playing their favourite fictional queer. (most likely)
One of the scariest things about listening to The Magnus Archives is never knowing when somebody’s gonna mention getting a cup of tea which triggers the uncontrollable urge to go make one for yourself.
Several times recently I’ve found myself making tea whilst listening to The Magnus Archives, and as a result I’ve developed a silly little headcanon…
I’m not sure if it’s a nationwide thing, but certainly throughout my life I’ve experienced the weird stigma of having sugar in your tea. It’s not direct or aggressive, but there always seems to be this vague notion that sweetening your tea makes you less strong, less manly. I rarely see men ask for sugar, and often observe an obvious proudness in teenage boys when they say “no sugar, thanks.”
Picture Jonathan Sims, newly appointed archivist, worried he’s not good enough, placed haphazardly in power of people who were very recently peers, and desperately trying to prove he’s the right man for the job. Everything seems to be falling apart a bit, and he’s not at all sure his assistants have any faith in him; he had to ask for a tape recorder because he couldn’t get his laptop to work properly - that’s embarrassing.
Now imagine Martin: office sweetheart, gets along with pretty much anyone, just moved to a new position working with two close friends, and the attractive guy from research is his boss (he’s a bit rude and stuck up, but it’s probably just the stress, right?). He’s pretty comfortable! Aside from the occasional snide remark from Jon it is a good job, which is especially pleasing considering how he got to work at the institute in the first place.
Two opposing forces, as we all well know! But what’s better at building bridges than a nice cup of tea? Martin makes a lot of tea, but I like to think he memorises how everyone takes theirs. Regardless, he has to ask at least once.
And so, kind, sweet, gentle Martin, his offer of a cup of tea promptly accepted, would have the misfortune of saying, “do you take that with sugar?” to an embarrassed, flustered Jon, who’s trying desperately not to confront any romantic feelings he might have hidden away. The ensuing scoff and slightly too enthusiastic ‘No! Thank you.’ would be enough to remember that preference for a while.
As times go on, hundreds of cups of tea later, things get less tense between the pair, and Martin never has to revisit the question; but late one night, shortly before Jon is to leave for Great Yarmouth and Martin is to risk it all to take down Elias, Jon places a hand gently on Martin’s shoulder and asks “Could I have a cup of tea?”. Of course Martin says yes, it’s the least he could do, but as he turns to go and make it, Jon calls out again. “With sugar, please.”
Just a tiny vulnerability, but enough. By that point most of Jon’s facade has been torn roughly away many times, but letting go of small points of pride often means more than non-deliberate actions. Having enough bravery to admit to liking something soft and sweet is harder than you’d think.
Maybe during those six months after, Martin would watch the sugar dissolve into his own tea with a painful melancholy, the sweetness a bitter memory.
MAG 5 - ‘Thrown Away’ - Expected failure.
In the conclusion of this episode Jon talks about Martin conducting the follow-up interview, and immediately afterwards explains how he expected it to fail. This brings up an interesting possibility.
Sometimes when we assign assumptions to people, we subconsciously adjust our behaviour towards them to make it right. It’s like the concept of the self-fulfilling prophesy but placed upon another. In Jon’s case, this seems to take place in the form of giving Martin tasks that will probably be useless, or likely to fail. It’s easy to keep believing things about a person if they’re not in a position to prove you wrong.
This would be just as harmful, if not worse for Martin himself. He already has a low self esteem, and even if you figure out that you’re being guided down a path to failure its hard not to blame yourself. Martin’s obviously very good at talking to people, and seeing himself unable to obtain useful information (even if nobody else would’ve been able to get it) would be confusing and frustrating; this, inadvertently causing him to feel the same way that Jon feels in his job.
They say that you shouldn’t jump into the water to help someone who’s drowning, as their instinct will be to push you down to pull themself up… Perhaps this also applies in emotional contexts.
Something that TMA displays beautifully is just how often you’re likely to be misunderstood if you’re a sarcastic person who’s not massively outgoing…
Obviously it depends on the people and the place, but it’s genuinely such a common occurrence. As a tired introvert who’s very sarcastic, people often assume I either don’t like them, or am just not a very nice person!
And it’s not even all about ‘getting’ sarcasm or picking up on the change of tone, it’s also about whether or not you’d actually expect that person to be sarcastic in the first place! Jon’s very serious, but he’s also incredibly sarcastic with a great sense of humor; if you’re only expecting a boring office guy, that’s all your likely to see!
I think if from the start his coworkers had picked up on his sense of humor they’d have avoided a whole host of problems. But that’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? The way that expectations and assumptions can shape not only relationships, but the entire pathway of a lifetime.
If Martin, Tim, and Sasha had assumed Jon was on their side from the start and Jon had assumed they were on his, perhaps they could have all survived.
I didn’t actually look at TMA stuff on tumblr until I’d finished the last season so I had absolutely no idea about the popular designs for the characters and I’d been picturing Martin as really short in contrast to Jon.
Seeing the fanon design was like a friend bringing over their partner who they’ve always described as ‘smol’ and being greeted by a 6'2 hunk.
Peter Lukas
Basira (after being hired to the institute)
Nikola
Jon (at S1 Martin)
Jane Prentiss
Martin (about Jon, of course.)
Elias
