Steven Moffat Doesn’t Understand Grief, and It’s Killing Doctor Who
There’s a popular joke I’ve seen floating around on Tumblr for a while now. It goes like this:
“Joss Whedon, Steven Moffat and George R.R. Martin walk into a bar and everyone you’ve ever loved dies.”
Here’s the problem, though:
…Fuck yeah he does. Sometimes you suppress it, because you have to, or believe you have to. Do it long enough, and it only emerges in suppressed bursts and barely even in your dreams.
I’ve seen an infertile woman’s take on the infertility storyline, posted right after the episode on the Doctor Who livejournal community. Not only did she find it accurate - right down to her having tried to offer her husband a divorce - she found it non-traumatic because of the way it was handled.
The infertility storyline parallels one in Coupling, which was based heavily on him and his wife. In other words, **quite probably personal experience.** Susan and Steve were miraculously lucky in Coupling, and indeed Steven and Sue have two boys: and there ARE, after all, infertility treatments out there. But writing that story excludes the terror that goes with “what if there were no options”? As a writer who uses his own and his family’s fears as inspiration, that was a direction he really *had to* finally take.
And besides, think of the message he’s sending his wife through Rory still and always loving Amy.
I have grieved the way Amy grieves. I have lost things of which I could not feel able to speak, and tried very hard not to reveal the hurt to those who might be hurt in the hearing. I have been madly angry with people who had no way to know I was in pain. And I have seemed entirely okay, for years, because the pain was muted and inactive behind the efforts of everyday.
Moffat may not write your grief, but he writes mine.