35
The last moments of Bail and Breha Organa
“Eclipse”
From a Certain Point of View
Author: Madeleine Roux
I cried.
I just read it again, the short story “Eclipse” by Madeleine Roux, and I cried one more time.
Tears flowed freely the very first time I read this achingly beautiful entry in the From a Certain Point of View anthology, so I shouldn’t be surprised. Shouldn’t have my breath taken away as well, but yet here we are.
In preparation for every piece in this book, I have rewatched, reread, reanalyzed, re-everything’d everything from the Star Wars universe that is covered here. That is followed by a hatching of a great plan for each essay that would make General Crix Madine proud. Each point is crafted and mulled over (Oh, there is plenty of mulling going on). Each piece is a finely tuned roadmap leading toward a reason we love Star Wars. I had one for this entry. I really did.
We were going to talk about how this story, along with Claudia Gray’s work in Leia: Princess of Alderaan, finally sheds some light on the true nature and character of the pacifist Queen of Alderaan. How it is illuminating to see how much of Breha’s soul made it into Leia. Strong and kind, she was a leader not of the people, but with the people. We were going to spend time on the importance of motherhood in Star Wars. How Breha Organa’s influence was just as important as Bail’s and how fulfilling it is to spend this time with her, even just for a touching few pages.
We were going to discuss how the tension builds beautifully in this story, building and building to an emotional crescendo you know is coming, but can never be prepared for. How we get to see Breha gracefully dealing with the mundane duties of leadership while the stress of not knowing the fate of her husband and daughter is tearing her up. A trait Leia would exhibit over and over. A trait she clearly learned from her mother.
I had some great stuff planned about the return of Bail Organa. How he rushes back into the capital and into his wife’s arms, allowing us to see them as two people in love and in need of each other. How it is so subtly crafted you start to see yourself in the story. It evokes the feeling of holding your loved one close. A safe spot from everything that rages on around you. As Breha Organa hears the news that her daughter’s ship was destroyed and her whereabouts unknown, you grieve as a parent. This is Star Wars, but it feels like us.
I really wanted to write about how the destruction of Alderaan is only experienced at a distance in A New Hope. Mostly an emotional distance at that. It’s a flash on screen. A brief moment that forever alters the galaxy and the princess trying to liberate it, that never fully takes hold of us because we are only floating around it. Here, we go in closer and feel it. It grips us. It terrifies us. It rumbles under our feet. This is a veritable horror story. The monster is lurking outside. An approaching evil. And we can do nothing about it. You just have to read on.
Much should be said about the grip of dread that encircles your heart as you read about the Death Star’s arrival above Alderaan, an unnatural eclipse above a beautiful, peaceful planet of pacifists that quickly becomes a target of opportunity. It’s a haunting companion piece to some of the visuals in Rogue One. When the Death Star arrives, the lights go out, forever.
I wanted to write all of this stuff—I’m using ‘stuff’ here because I’m flummoxed—because I wanted to be a prim and proper writer that can deftly explain his feelings, insight, and appreciation of sixteen of the finest pages of a Star Wars story I’ve ever read.
But I can’t.
I can’t because Madeleine Roux wrote the most heart-wrenching, gut-punching Star Wars poetry ever. I can never—I mean never—watch A New Hope again and not think of the final moments of Bail and Breha Organa. After you read “Eclipse,” you cannot watch Vader tighten his grip around Leia, forcing her to watch the destruction of her people, her planet, and her parents, without thinking about Bail wrapping his arms around Breha as the Death Star gets ready to fire. As you stare into the eyes of a young princess about to be left alone in this galaxy at war, you will always think of the final words Bail says to his wife. “She lives.” And as you watch the planet explode on screen, leaving the princess no choice but to find the will to save the galaxy and the strength to lead it, you will never forget the final words Breha says to her husband. “I know.” You cannot watch the sequence you’ve seen in A New Hope for years and years and separate it from the final haunting moments of Bail and Breha Organa. Roux writes, “She felt her husband’s warmth, his breath on her neck, then the scent of ash and smoke, and in the next moment, oblivion.” The Death Star destroyed Alderaan in seconds, but those words make the pain eternal. They are two points of view, forever intertwined as one. You will always think about it…
…and cry.