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)
MAG 2 - ‘Do Not Open’ - When doing the wrong thing is the right move.
The statement of Joshua Gillespie is truly iconic amongst those of survivors; he’s not someone who made a good choice, he’s not somebody who particularly deserved to survive, and unlike many he had almost complete choice in getting himself into his predicament. As paranormal encounters go I’d say this is just about as close as one could get to the opposite of Jon’s encounter with Mr. Spider, both of which took place in Jon’s own hometown.
To be presented with the statement of somebody who did everything wrong and suffered not a single consequence? Its a bitter and unpleasant thing to face, especially so early into the thankless task of reorganising the archive.
Jon, a child, a true innocent, suffered greater than a drug addled, privileged, stupid uni graduate. And worse still? He’s handed conclusive proof that these things, these horrible fates can be avoided with simply enough effort, enough critical thinking. A man who’s devoted all of himself to intelligence and capability is plainly told that he (for how well can we separate ourselves from the child we once were?) could have saved the boy that pulled him from the ready jaws of the web had he just been quicker, smarter, more alert.
What intense frustration to see that somebody who made one good decision in a situation that he could not, was spared. The unbelievable foolishness of a man willing to store a coffin in his home for over a year was beaten by the one good decision to store the key out of his reach.
What if Jon had the good sense to get rid of the book? What if he’d noticed there was something wrong with it- he should have, after all; he was an absent-minded child but not a fool. He could have figured it out. One good choice could have spared him the childhood trauma that led him to this job that’s steadily becoming more and more odd, falling more out of his control.
To be beaten by a fool is never a good thing, to sit defeated whilst a clown who made one right choice lives on is just intolerable. Perhaps Jon’s utter denial of it came not from the lack of reliable, but from the fact that if it wasn’t true it would also be false that his own encounter could have been avoided.
(part 1)
The eye:
The hunt:
The web:
The desolation:
The dark:
The slaughter:
The flesh:
The vast:
The buried:
The end:
MAG 3 - ‘Across The Street’ - Unspoken commitments and their undoing.
This statement is one that very effectively displays much of the awkwardness of the unspoken commitments we share with friends, acquaintances, the natural rules of society; and of course in true Magnus archives nature, what happens when supernatural forces interfere with these things.
Amy and Graham’s relationship is certainly a common one; I’m pretty sure any of us could name plenty of people we know well enough to wave to but wouldn’t particularly want to have an in depth conversation with. It’s natural, not every pair of people will get along famously, but the interesting thing with this is how strong the unspoken commitments we make are, even in these distant half-friendships.
Having lived in London my whole life I can only comment in depth upon these odd commitments I’ve experienced here- I couldn’t claim to speak for other cultures or individuals.
British Middle class society generally is, as is wonderfully presented in the episode, painfully polite. Not every relationship is polite, of course, but once the expectation is established (as it nearly always is in a mature academic setting) it must be followed. I’ve known many people to be completely cut out of groups for not being polite enough, and I can’t say I was eager to get them back. Once you break that mask of decency it’s nobody’s job to uphold it, and you’ll often lose the courtesy yourself.
In this same vein, it makes complete and utter sense for Graham to agree to look after Amy, however begrudgingly, after her accident. It’s a societal expectation, and in most cases a personal one. This opens up the discussion of how much of society is a pantomimed act instead of an effort to feel comfortable in the world, but I fear that’s too deep a topic to completely explore in a text post.
Needless to say, to make these obligated situations more comfortable, one must employ their humanity. Graham makes an effort, sharing his life, his interests, and he offers up perhaps more than he’d have liked to. It does seem to comfort Amy to some extent, but of course, someone suffering a head injury is not in any way obligated to reciprocate.
It is interesting though, that Graham should be the one to lose his humanity when he displays it so strongly. Amy crosses boundaries and tears away from what would generally be considered basic human decency by so recklessly spying on Graham; and in the end it is Graham who has his humanity so harshly torn away.
Balance is restored though of course. Witnessing a thing like this instills that bone deep fear that those otherworldly powers so desire, and what is more human than intense fear?
The stranger is clever in its game with Amy, not only does it force her to come to terms with her friend no longer being human for all intents and purposes, but it also forces her to confront how she’s changed, how far removed her daily sessions of watching Graham were from her, or who she once was.
Whoever was there that was pretending Graham was wrong, and what better time is there to see that when maybe you yourself have become wrong too.
(part 2)
The stranger:
The spiral:
The corruption:
The lonely:
Jon’s lighter is such an important plot point, and an aesthetically beautiful object. The way its meaning is written in us so subtle and powerful! I didn’t think about it much outside of its plot relevance, but since I started using a zippo lighter myself, I’ve thought about it a lot more.
The most notable difference between a zippo and a cheap plastic lighter is the amount of care and maintenance required. You wouldn’t think it, I certainly didn’t consider it, but there is some amount of effort to keeping it working! Refilling the lighter fluid every week or so, and even changing out the wick if you have to! And it’s not necessarily needed, but I like to clean off the metal to make sure it doesn’t tarnish.
Now the interesting thing here is that means Jon was actively taking care of a Web aligned artifact. Of course, the tape recorders too but its not exactly like they were given much care; the lighter however, was. Jon definitely seemed to like it, he managed to hold onto it for years, even through the literal apocalypse, so keeping it going must’ve been of importance to him. There’s something interesting about how fostering a connection to such an object could inadvertently foster your connection to the being itself.
Alternatively, perhaps the lighter never needed any looking after! Maybe all that time Jon has an obviously magical lighter but there was just so much going on that he never considered it really should have run out of lighter fluid after a couple of years.
Either way, the Web clearly has good taste when it comes to gifts, even if they end up being the thing that finally kills the recipient.
I’m embarrassed to say that my first thought was “what??? That’s not what the episode’s called??”
I’ve been thinking recently about what would have happened if Daisy had never barged in on Jon and Micheal in episode 91…
Micheal had clearly had enough, but I sincerely doubt that Jon had heard enough. Although Micheal gave a hefty statement, he shared very little information that Jon was actually after. He knew what he wanted to say and he said it.
Jon at this point was clearly willing to go to any and all lengths to find out what he needed to know, and was more than a bit suicidal in its pursuit. He asks Jude Perry to kill him if she won’t tell him, and i think this displays his desperation well; it would be less painful to be dead than it would be to not know.
And Micheal wasn’t weak- without hesitation he sent Jon into an internal freefall just so he could get him to shut up, imagine what he’d be willing to do if Jon openly defied his command, refused to leave. He’s got absolutely no qualms about throwing people off buildings, and is very open about his willingness to kill, so Daisy’s arrival could’ve been a mercy even if Basira hadn’t shown up to save him.
Is it worse to be tormented prey or to face the terrifying draw of gravity? Is that inevitable crunching, splitting meeting with the ground worse than feeling the blood pour out of your open throat?
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.
Introducing the new hit game: ‘Is that a magnus archives reference or is it just London?’!
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 4 - ‘Page Turner’ - The odd attraction of antiques.
This statement has a lot of significance to me as an antique book collector. Being able to relate so clearly to that experience goes a long way to making the whole thing more unnerving. A collector of any object will be able to relate to the burning, jittering urge to acquire an object for your collection, but there’s something else with antiques, books in particular.
The knowledge that not only does the object matter now, but it’s mattered for decades, centuries, even. Its touched the souls of many through the years, and has reached through time and holds its hand out to grasp yours. A thing- an object, yet it outlived its creators and owners; a subtle defiance of the natural order, or so it feels.
But a book? It’s all this and more. A tome that’s educated its readers and is imbued with information and knowledge that someone was so desperate to share that they went to the effort of publication. A story or a theme that was so important an individual asked for it to outlive them. It’s pages marked with fingerprints, coffee stains, annotations, even blood- all of them out of the control of whoever left them.
And that is just a book. Though the idea of 'just a book’ does make me chuckle, the idea of a book with real, tangible, undeniable power does not. 'From the library of Jurgen Leitner’, a mark of terror and rightly so. Some people are of the nature that means they’re drawn to books, but a book with the power to draw in those that aren’t? That’s dangerous. Even outside of the awful power those books posses, a book in the hands of the wrong person can be a terrible weapon.
But can you imagine the feeling of having real power, control, otherworldly means of action. It’s addictive, as proven by many other statements, it’s hard to let go of if you end up with the right one. If the power fits the soul of the hands it ends up in then can it ever be released?
Even though the book wasn’t supposed to be for Dominic Swayne he had a connection to it, it affected him. Micheal Crew is proof that if the book fits, it can do all sorts of things to you.
This, to me, poses an interesting question. If it was you, and if the book really spoke to you, however evil, would you be able to hand it over? To watch its destruction?
I don’t think I would.
A person’s desk can tell you a lot about them…
MAG 5 - ‘Thrown Away’ - Nonspecific accusations.
Conceptually, this episode is not particularly scary. There’s no horrible monster, no universal risk of death, no massive terrifying reveal; its a highly specific experience. Yet it still hits that place of fear, causes that nagging feeling, the type that makes you cover your ears or close your eyes, to hide in some small way.
I think one of the reasons for this is that it starts by taking about you. The listener. Even the most devout anti-waste activist has thrown something away before, and almost anyone in a position to be listening to a podcast has ended up with their waste in the hands of a binman. The statement doesn’t start with information on the setting or the thing the statement is about, but rather on you.
This reach out towards the audience puts you on a back foot. You don’t expect to be confronted with considerations about your own, mundane life, during a horror podcast, and it weakens your defence. It’s easy to gloss over the scary parts in any piece of horror if you stay true to the 'that could never happen to me’ mentality, but it’s a hard one to maintain when you’re initially forced to think about yourself, what you throw away.
Although the statement is very clearly angled towards the stranger or the spiral with its doll heads, inexplicable teeth, religious texts, and final gift for the initial victim, as an audience experience it leans also towards the eye. That subtle reminder that you’re being watched in ways you would never consider, that even if you never really leave the house its impossible to escape perception.
You, the audience, are being watched by one just like the statement giver, and there’s no way you can opt out.
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.
Do you ever wonder if maybe the reason that so many fiction podcasts have eye related imagery is because it’s one of the only non visual forms of media these days? Because to tell a story with no visuals is to allow the audience to truly see, without boundaries or restrictions.
In MAG 120 Elias Bouchard says “there’s a flash drive in my shirt pocket”. This is the only episode in which it is confirmed that he’s wearing clothes!
“He’s certainly holding a bone… For some reason.”
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.
MAG 6 - ’Squirm’ - Speculations on parasitic infection.
This statement has many interesting aspects, but one that catches my attention is the subtle details of just how Prentiss’s parasites seem to infect.
Harriet says she felt like she was stabbed, but doesn’t mention worms or obvious rot on Prentiss, which would have been noticeable even in a moment of shock. This, and the fact that she wasn’t wounded implies that the spreading of the sickness is not only caused by the worms.
From their description, Prentiss’s worms are more like larvae than your standard worm, and the thing about larvae is that the eggs they emerge from are small, delicate. Anyone that’s dealt with maggots knows that you can’t just get rid of the maggots, you need to destroy the eggs too, but this brings me to another point.
Because of how delicate the eggs of a fly are, its common for them to lay them on things, and even in things; this is sometimes called flystrike. When I was a child I had a bright green pet caterpillar, I kept him in a jar and fed him leaves, and was so excited for him to turn into a butterfly! He never did though, instead I watched him torn in half from the inside out as fly larvae crawled from his corpse. If a fly laying its eggs under the skin of a caterpillar could do that, imagine what a human could do to another with this mutated, powerful, fear-driven parasite.
Harriet’s eventual demise wasn’t all that different from that of my pet, but as all things are with humans, it was undeniably messier. This dramatic end also puts me in mind of Ohiocordyceps unilateralis, more commonly known as the zombie ant fungus. After its host has served its purpose it very dramatically blooms, spreading the infection further to keep its species alive.
The parasite being spread by intercourse implies that either extended physical contact or transfer of bodily fluid can also cause infection. To me it makes more sense that it’s fluids, as I think Timothy Hodge would have noticed anything physical, he seemed to be quite perceptive. The parasite being spread by fluids is interesting, as that could mean it has more fungus-like properties and spreads it’s spores through the bloodstream, thereby affecting everything else.
This would mean that the methods of infection are: transfer of bodily fluid, flystrike, and the traditional worm burrowing. Correlating it as best I can, it seems to me that the worms exist as both parasite and fungus- something obviously not possible in reality, but definitely pleasing to the otherworldly fear entity of rot and filth!
Prentiss, as the source of it all, seems to have the ability to plant the eggs, which in turn can grow the worms. Whilst a host grows these perhaps the spores inside of them can spread others that they become physical with. I like to think that then the spores could grow and change into the worms, which in turn can infest others, leaving spores to create even more, creating the perfect flesh hive.
One of the reasons I found myself so encapsulated by The Magnus Archives is because of the delightful, mundane realism that’s so beautifully entwined with the horrifying, awe-inspiring otherworldly aspects; this is done well in many things, but I’ve never come across a piece of media that’s so effectively conveyed the nightmare of becoming something inhuman whilst being forced to continue your every day life.
I have this headcanon that when Jon wakes up from his coma he finds his nose slightly crooked. It’s not awful, not terribly noticeable, but certainly not how it was before. No doctor would question it, nor a visiting acquaintance; he survived a massive explosion and the collapse of a building, a broken nose is a logical injury.
It puzzles him though. If his nose broke, why not his fingers? Why not a fractured skull? He doesn’t remember it with any great clarity but surely he wouldn’t only break his nose, that couldn’t be it. But alas, who could he ask? The only other survivor was Basira and she would know even less than he.
As heals, returns to the archives, and becomes used to that slight bend to the left on the bridge of his nose, things do come back, bit by bit. Flashes of things from the unknowing, a story with each scene jumbled like an unsolved puzzle. Faces, voices, sensations, and a disgustingly heavy sense of unease, of guilt.
He remembers dancing most of all. It makes sense, the unknowing is a dance after all, but that doesn’t make it any less unpleasant. That happens near the end of it all, he recalls, but that couldn’t possibly have caused his broken nose, could it? Nikola was certainly rough with him, but what reason would she have to go near his face? Her dance was painful, but precise.
He remembers making eye contact with Basira as they were pulled into the theatre - a split second of connection, a sharing of terror as control and comprehension fell away into the abyss… But those things don’t bear thinking about.
Sometimes days, weeks go by without remembering a single thing, without even thinking about it. It’s never long enough though, and little things in every day life can twist in a second to a harsh memory. A teaspoon clinking on the edge of a cup turns to the high pitched squeal of a pipe organ; the growl of a dog turns to the groans of something else.
One day, crammed into a crowded train, Jon finds himself facing a tall stranger. The train slams to an unexpected stop sending him flying into the man, his nose crushing against a solid shoulder, releasing an explosion of pain and an entirely unexpected memory.
Just before the detonator was triggered, a scuffle on the floor (or what felt like it at the time), he’d fallen hard. A hand pressed into his face wrenching his nose to the side but the pain barely registered at the time because that wasn’t important! Because what really mattered was Tim. It had been Tim!
The final act of aggression that had lead to the destruction of the ritual, that horrible moment that saved everything, it had left a mark. Though a painful memory to have so clearly attached to oneself, there’s a strange joy in its origin, knowing it wasn’t left by something truly evil.
It’s an odd comfort really, to know that such a mark was left by a friend, an ally. But as sweet as the relief is, the bitter knowledge remains; Tim is gone forever, and that mark is a reminder of it in every reflection.
I didn’t realise just how stereotypical this purchase was until I clicked ‘buy’.
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
The “I’m 30 I don’t kin anything” tweet holds a special place in my heart because one time I joked about kinning Jon and then I almost immediately found a corpse.
I’ve never claimed to kin anyone since.