poilers spoilers spoilers!
Spoilers for Carnival Row.
For those who don’t know it, Carnival Row is an interesting show on Prime. It tells the tale of a fantasy world where an “English” nation, and specifically a steam-punky “London”, is pressed with a wave of immigration, specifically fairies and satyrs and the like.
In the story, it turns out (last call for spoilers!) Piety Breakspear – the wife of the liberal chancellor – has been practicing necromancy (grafting dead things together and bringing them to life of sorts). The hero – Philo Philostrate – gets chased into her lair (under the Breakspear mansion) by her creature. There we find her sinister workshop (in a presumably abandoned section of underground vaults and sewers) with rows of bottles, all sorts of worktables, and dead creatures of all sorts hanging from chains to give the place its distinct ambiance.
This morning my waking thought was this: “How did an upper class, middle-aged woman manage to get all this stuff in here? Heavy tables? Shelves? Overhead chains?
Okay, so she had some workmen bring them in and set up for her. Maybe through a secret entrance?
And the bodies? There were all sorts of creatures, including what looked like a dead centaur. That’s a lot of meat to work with. And how long does it keep for? And even assuming she dumps the portions in the sewers, who shifts them for this high-borne lady?
Who restocks her shelves? Who cleans away the blood and muck? Who dusts?
In the spur of the moment, when the hero is being chased down dank sewers into this lair, it’s easy to overlook. But apparently my mind was troubled, not by the macabre nature of the thing, but the logistics. How does she keep this underground laboratory functioning? This isn’t like knitting – you can’t just put it down for a while. If you are going to be able to construct and control hulking hell-creatures through dark arts you, yourself, unearthed, well, it seems like you’d be down there pretty much every night.
It just doesn’t seem to add up, not a few days later in the morning hours.
It’s hard enough to keep a model train running, much less this sinister liver-stealing murder-beast.