We probably won’t see Mary again but I loved her. I loved how she was angry and bitter. I loved how she was viewed as being perfectly in the right the entire episode and that Stede was being a selfish asshole. I loved how she was so happy once Stede finally opened up to her, that they were able to finally become friends. I loved how they showed her being able to move on and be happy and join possible bi/lesbian cults if she wanted to while having fun and enjoying sex with her new man. I loved how once she realised that Stede wanted to leave again, she swapped her murder plan to a “let’s fake your death” plan.
Y’know what kind of “older queer person has the Good Sex for the first time” scenario I want for Stede? I say as if I’m not eventually going to write it. Stede experiencing sex as intimacy for the first time in his life.
I feel like the emphasis in these kind of scenes is often on the embodiment aspect of the experience, the “oh so this is what sex feels like when I’m fully aroused/doing it with someone I am actually attracted to/doing the kind of sex acts I enjoy” element. Which…yes. That part can be fucking revelatory. But that’s just one layer of the “OH so THAT’s what it’s supposed to be like” experience and I feel like for Stede there are some other layers that would be equally if not more world-altering.
Stede and Mary presumably had enough sex to produce two living children, and I’d imagine the experience ranged somewhere from “this is fine I guess but I’d rather be reading a book” to skin-crawlingly uncomfortable for both of them. Given what we see of their parents I think it’s very likely they were both raised to think of sex as a marital duty required to produce an heir and nothing more. Either giving or receiving pleasure was certainly not a requirement if it was even an expectation at all.
And given that Stede’s main coping strategy for his marital unhappiness seems to be avoidance, emotionally withdrawing and self-isolating, I would imagine he was fairly…not present during the act and also, shall we say, not partner-focused. If he’d been willing to meet Mary halfway with trying to at least be friends, they might have gotten to a point where they both acknowledged that they weren’t really attracted to each other, but the social expectations placed on them meant they had to produce children, and maybe they would have been able to approach things with a little more kindness and camaraderie, if not genuine passion. But that’s not Stede’s approach to the situation at all.
So I think he was probably mostly focused on doing what he needed to do to get the job done on a basic physiological level, probably with a lot of bottled-up guilt and shame and self-loathing involved, and in that context I can see him just not really paying attention to Mary at all. Not out of any deliberate cruelty but just because he can be self-centered in his own misery in a way that ends up hurting other people. Or possibly just because, of the two of them, he’s the one who needs to be at least somewhat aroused for this to work, and whatever strategy he had for that required all his concentration. (YMMV but this is one of the reasons I think Stede was at least somewhat aware of his attraction to men before he met Ed; “this baby can fit so many sexual fantasies while never ever ever talking about the state of his actual sex life with his actual wife” seems very on brand for Stede to me.)
So with Ed I’d imagine it’s probably not just Stede’s first time having sex for pleasure, period, but the first time this is any kind of mutually collaborative experience for him. It must be wild, being fully present and realizing for the first time that you want to be, not just for your own sensory experience but because it turns out everything going on with your partner is ungodly hot–what he’s doing to you but also watching him react to what you’re doing to him. (Who knew you had that kind of power?) Not just realizing that this is terribly arousing for you but the realization that this other person (who you consider to be much cooler and hotter and more sexually experienced than you) is just absolutely desperate to fuck you, that you have the ability to turn him on, to drive him wild. The wanting and the delight at being wanted in return.
The realization that it’s fun to learn what your partner likes, letting him show you or discovering new things together, that talking about what you want and what he wants is sexy, actually, even if admitting desires is scary sometimes. Realizing that this is something that can be playful and joyful and fun and also involve a truly awe-inspiring amount of trust and vulnerability that this other person is offering you and inviting you to share in return. That yes it’s sometimes silly or embarrassing or gross or weird or nerve-wracking but it’s something you’re doing together, not something alienating and uncomfortable that you’re experiencing alone even though your partner is right there. That it’s something that people do to be closer to each other and here is this person who wants to be close to you in that way, that you sort of thought didn’t actually exist, or at least, didn’t exist for people like you. But it does and you get to have it.
I asked my spouse for prompts this afternoon for my comic and apparently they were still thinking about how much they thought Mary Bonnet deserved a little more comeuppance in Our Flag Means Death
never in a million years would I have thought a PIRATE COMEDY SHOW SET IN THE 18TH CENTURY would have a scene where a gay man sits down with his wife and has a conversation without her about what it means to be in love and then he comes to out to her and tells her he’s in love with a man and then she hugs him and helps him fake his fucking death so he can leave his old life behind and wholeheartedly pursue a new life with the man he loves without guilt or shame and yet our flag means death gave us that. I didn’t think I’d ever get to know what the opposite of queerbaiting looks like but I saw it today
best moment in ofmd is “what’s her name?” “ed. his name is ed.” and mary just smiles and hugs stede so tight. there is no sadness or surprise. instead, there’s happiness, relief, and realization.
a lot of people love this moment because it’s when stede realizes he’s in love. i love this moment because for mary, everything makes sense now. from her perspective, she was trying everything she could do to make the relationship work. she was sentimental, she gave him gifts that represented their devotion, she wanted him to spend more time with his kids, and she wanted to be close to him. but stede was always distant, holding back, and wanted to uproot the life they had for something different. mary must have thought there was something wrong with her. for years, she was slowly falling apart trying to save their relationship, only for stede to withdraw even more, and eventually abandon everything she tried to build with him.
but “his name is ed” changes her perspective on all of that. everything makes sense now. stede could never love her romantically. not because there’s something wrong with her, not because she isn’t enough, not because he hates her or the children or the life they had together, but because he’s gay. she realizes that they were both trapped and unhappy. and she also realizes they can be free now, and they can love each other another way. i can’t imagine how healing that must have been for her.
I think one of the best things ofmd did was start episode 10 with mary’s pov. It was so important to see how trapped she also was in the marriage and how she was flourishing on her own and that she is truly her own story’s protagonist and if we hadn’t just spent nine episodes following stede we would absolutely be cheering for her to murder her deadbeat husband who had the audacity to abandon her and then try to take it back like it was nothing. She’s such a cool character and I’m so glad she was given the same complexities as stede especially since media is often so quick to vilify female characters in her position and I’m so glad and that we were able to see this glimpse into her mind
Post-canon universe where Mary ends up becoming a tattoo artist.
It starts when Ed winds up visiting the Bonnet household. Maybe he went there after Stede’s “death” only to learn that the Gentleman Pirate is out looking for him. Maybe this is post-reunion and they’ve just popped by to check on the kids. Whatever the reason, Ed ends up hitting it off with Mary and is particularly enamored with her art studio because holy shit you did the lighthouse painting!
He needs a version of that on his body. Now.
And Mary is like, I’m sorry, Mr. Blackbeard sir, but the human body is a slightly different canvas from what I’m used to and I’ve never—
But Ed is already waving her off. You think pirates know what the fuck they’re doing either? Nah. You get a buddy sloshed on rum, promise him it’s gonna look great, tattoo something on his ass, and then keep out of reach when he first sees it in a shaving mirror. It looks like shit. Of course it does! But then you do it to someone else and it looks a little less shitty. Then again and again until hey, that’s some talent right there! So go to town. Can’t look any worse than what Izzy first put on his back.
By this point Ed has hopped up onto a table and pulled a kit seemingly out of nowhere. He’s also got his shirt off—this is fine—and Mary has to admit, some of his tats really are awful. Not all of them! But enough that she can precisely pick out where some drunk sailor was trying out a needle for the first time. And yeah, she could easily justify this through fear, telling herself that it’s not like she can say no to the intimidating, legendary Blackbeard. Dating Stede or not, the guy could slash her throat in an instant. Actually, dating Stede is a mark against any mental stability.
The reality though is that it isn’t fear that convinces her. Mary just looks at the spots of crappy ink and thinks, Fuck. I could do better than that.
So she does.
Mary might not know tattooing yet, but she’s got an eye for art and she picks up the mechanics quickly. At her request Alma brings in a bottle of something far nicer than rum—casting an interested look towards the pirate that reminds Mary, with a trickle of worry, that she always was her father’s daughter—and they spend a surprisingly pleasant afternoon with Mary experimenting and Ed commenting on her paintings. Is that flower a vagina, Mary? Yes it is, god, no one else gets that!
Mary tattoos a lighthouse onto Ed’s arm, entwining it with one of his tentacles. It’s nothing fancy, but Ed leaves the Bonnet household pleased as fucking punch.
Which means, of course, that a few months later Stede shows back up (in a terrible disguise) begging her to give him his own lighthouse on the opposite arm.
Stede Bonnet, are you really asking for the symbol of our now defunct marriage after you left me, came back, came out as gay, and then had the gall to fall in love with the most dangerous pirate on the seven seas?
…Yes?
Yeah, alright, fine. Get on the table.
Mary has been practicing since she last saw Ed, discovering that she loves the permanence of tattooing—putting her art on a moving canvas; a part of someone’s very identity, not just their home. Though it’s hardly considered good form in their community, she even managed to find a tutor after promising Doug that she wouldn’t fall in love with this one. Or if she does, she’s not going to throw him over for the new guy. You should really talk to Stede’s friend Lucius, Doug. He has fantastic ideas about the whole thing.
Stede tells Mary all about their lighthouse fuckery while she works and she finds that this story is a damn bit more romantic than their awkward wedding vows. In the end, this lighthouse is far more detailed than Ed’s, with steadier lines and a bit of shading, and Mary can’t help but think that it fits their personalities quite well. Stede is so happy he forgets himself and plants an exuberant kiss on Mary’s cheek. She just laughs.
From there other members of The Revenge show up when it’s safe for them to sneak into town, all of them wanting ink from a member of their Captain’s family. Their family, now. After she’s given Jim a pair of crossed knives and Oluwande a small orange tree on his back; Frenchie a recreation of his lute and the Swede the notes of his favorite song, word starts to spread to other crews. Wherever The Revenge goes they show off their ink. Even when they don’t, Mary’s developing a style that’s noticeable in any tavern or seedy alleyway—far nicer work than what anyone else has got.
The first time an unknown pirate shows up on their doorstep in the dead of night, Mary very nearly stabs him with one of the knives Jim gifted her. She whisper-yells at the poor bastard about manners and coming during business hours, really, what is wrong with you? After a sheepish apology, she brews an obscene amount of coffee and inks a child’s portrait onto the man’s arm. It’s by far the most challenging tat she’s done to date and somewhere around 4:00am, bleary-eyed and energized, Mary thinks that she’ll never want to do anything else again.
More pirates come after that. Doug worries. Mary reassures. As a compromise, she starts taking clients while her widow group meets. The presences of nine or so women who have nothing to lose—alongside Evelyn glaring from the corner—is more than enough to keep even the toughest ruffian in line.
Which isn’t to say that every client is a good experience. Oh no. Mary learns and more importantly, she listens, figuring out which pirates have beef with an ally of The Revenge, or who would sooner sell out their own than part with a single coin. On the truly worrisome visitors, the ones who do nothing to endear themselves during the long session or any of the repeat visits, Mary adds a small flower to their designs. Just her signature, she assures them, but everyone on The Revenge knows that it’s a message: don’t trust this one, watch your back.
Most though are surprisingly pleasant to spend time with. Sweethearts just dealing with a fair bit of trauma, as her ex-husband might say. When they thank her and try to press purses into her hand, Mary just shakes her head. It’s not like she needs the money. Instead, she draws out promises that they’ll do right by The Revenge and its co-captains, should they ever cross paths. When her family visits, Mary hears many tales about the crews that unexpectedly assisted during a tough raid, offered a good deal on supplies, bought them all drinks when they came into port.
Mary is the laughingstock of the town. She’s the woman whose husband ran out on her to become a criminal and then didn’t even have the decency to stay away, instead dying in a thoroughly tactless fashion. She’s the woman who gave up a lucrative painting career to instead take up a lowlife’s art form—if it could even be called such—with all manner of scoundrels calling on her. She’ll end badly, wait and see.
Mary is beloved by the pirate community. She’s the darling of Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate, more than capable of holding her own with both. She’s the woman whose ink you want etched into your skin—always safe to visit, always compassionate, and unspeakably talented. She’ll go far, wait and see.
Of course, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. Mary teaches Louis how to draw and makes Alma promise that she’ll finish her education before following her father to sea; she takes Doug to bed each night and with his encouragement visits Evelyn many afternoons. She’s happy.
Shockingly, so is everyone else. Mary isn’t entirely sure what to make of the waspish man who shows up on her doorstep one afternoon, but he’s easily recognizable based on Stede and Ed’s descriptions. Israel Hands has just three tattoos: the ace of spades to mark his time in the Navy, the swallow for a well-traveled pirate, and a lopsided cross on his cheek that Mary almost asks about, before thinking better of it.
He wants a fourth tattoo. A lighthouse on the back of his neck.
It’s been a long time since Mary first started tattooing. It’s not that she forgot about her previous lighthouses, of course not, but any additional meaning doesn’t register as she works up a design to show Izzy. After all, he’s a sailor. A pirate. Most of them want something to connect them to the sea and there are only so many objects that do that.
The placement is a bit odd though. Mary warns him that he’ll have to keep his hair short for the tattoo to show, shaving the fine hairs regularly. Izzy just grunts and mutters for her to get to it. Mary doesn’t realize the significance of him allowing her to hold a razor to his neck, in his blind-spot no less. At this point, she’s considered an extension of the only two allowed to do the same.
This lighthouse is perfect. After years of work Mary is easily able to navigate the muscles in Izzy’s neck; the thin scar that—she shivers—is just a little too close to his jugular. Mary knows how to make her art catch the eye when Izzy stands tall and how to keep it from looking absurd whenever he twists his head. She doesn’t know this man well, but Mary senses that this piece should be meticulous and detailed, not a single line out of place. So she pours everything into the image, holding Izzy steady with a grip he doesn’t flinch from.
It’s only months later, when the family comes back to visit, that Mary realizes what she’s helped accomplish. Izzy stands between his two captains and from the back she sees that all the lighthouses are balanced, like the top of a nautical star.
Oh, Mary thinks as Ed slips a hand onto the small of Izzy’s back; Izzy leans his shoulder into Stede’s. There it is.
I love how David Jenkins handled Mary’s character and story in the season 1 finale. How many other shows have framed characters like hers as unreasonable, as emotionally in the wrong, as bitchy, for their reactions to a protagonist who has given them every reason to be angry or hurt or mistrustful? How many other shows would expect the audience to handwave the (often male) protagonist’s shitty choices and behavior and side with them in the face of the supporting character’s justified unhappiness?
Not here. We know Stede, we love Stede. We know him far better than we do Mary at this point, but the show doesn’t excuse his behavior towards Mary or its disruption of her life for one. Single. Second. There is NEVER a moment where we are expected to side with him against her just because he’s the main character, and I love them for that. He did her dirty by sneaking out (not by leaving, but by how he handled it), and then came back and inserted himself somewhere he had given up his right to, and the show drives that point home with every scene they share. Mary’s monologue at the breakfast table when she’s trying to read the paper is some of the best dialogue in the show. She lays it out, and we’re with her every step of the way.
AND THEN, the show goes further yet, and has STEDE recognize and acknowledge the validity of Mary’s feelings (and their children’s. ) His development isn’t just a series of plot points getting him in position to go back to the life he belongs in, it’s him recognizing how he wronged and is continuing to wrong her FOR MARY’S SAKE.
This show, man. Like I have dropped shows (and movie series) over this very thing being done badly. The expectation that I will side with the hero over someone they’ve wronged simply because they are the hero. That their bad choices get a pass.
I want to talk about this one moment in OFMD episode 10.
Mary just tried to murder Stede in his sleep. It seemed to her like the only way to get out of the marriage that she couldn’t stand and free herself to live her own life with the man she loves. But Stede woke up - and now they’re finally talking about their situation.
Most importantly, Stede admits to himself - and to Mary - that he’s in love with Ed.
Mary - she smiles a little, and then she hugs him.
That’s the moment she getshim. Stede is not the enemy. He’s just as unhappy as she is. They both want out of this marriage. He’s just had a difficult journey to admit what he does want (twice!), because his actual desires are so taboo. And when it finally clicks for him, it also clicks for her.
I love that little hug. It’s a hug of solidarity. They’re both caught in a web of societal rules, but they don’t have to be enemies. In a different situation, they could even be friends. And after that moment of understanding, they go on to solvetheir situation.
