Following reader votes, Mugwhah takes a leap through the genres to become a TV show in the 1990s. If you want to pick up the story from the beginning visit the Mugwhah Page, otherwise dive in and determine how the story goes…
As the credits role in Susan presses her finger tips into her neck; she forms a tight knot with her lips as she ceremoniously deliberates ‘Mugwhah’. She’s not sure if she has enjoyed it, and more-over she’s not sure what the politics of the programme are. Does it have any critical potential? Its kitsch deployment of medieval character types, its mix of erotica and a vague feminism certainly make it a unique addition to the network – but will it survive beyond the three pilot episodes?
Any story that utilises fantasy or science fiction to explore the human condition appeals to Susan, but her interest in this case is not purely personal. She knows the writer of the show and he has asked her for some input. As he’s technically a ‘family friend’ and can pay her a decent commission she said she was willing to look at it.
Susan’s house, overlooking Upper Arrow Lake, is a testament to her distinguished career as a writer. As she enters the main room from the kitchen, where she has her only television set, she surveys a veritable library of challenging literature and academic tomes. In the centre of this chamber of learning a single chair looks out over the lake.
Susan often studies the chair and its surrounding before sitting . She is interested in what it says about her, or more precisely what it does to her. Sitting in the chair she becomes its appendage, an organ taking in the refracted blue light from the lake while absorbing the content of various books. This activity seems to her mostly immaterial, ghostly, and when she’s out of the room the chair and books sit silently, unconscious of their coalescence within the invisible networks of her being. At this moment, against the farcical ultra-violet timbre of Mugwhah, it all seems very sombre, austere and lacking playfulness.
“These thoughts are cold”, Susan says outloud to herself, perhaps responding to another chain of thoughts. And in order to thaw her spirit she pictures the coming weekendwhen the house will be invaded by her daughter and grand children. A buffet will be made for their arrival, an autumnal feast full of colour and life. Over the smell of cured meats, roasted butternut squash and sweet potato, salads and hot chocolate, the frisson of reunion will envelope everyone: tangled, broken, beautiful conversations. Alice will be tired but relieved after the 8 hour drive from Vancouver, and then at some point she will be surprised that her mother has agreed to work with Alexis, her ex-husband.