She needs to sense these things, look at them, look at Cooper, and it’s
all done through a distant confusion, as though she’s seeking someone
she might know in the downstairs rattle of a foreign subway. But it
clicks, and when it does, and it clicks with the inexorable force of a
nervous system releasing tremendous shock, there is no mistaking it as
neat and resolvable and plotlike, no matter what our sensibilities
insist. It is instead personal, and it is violent, and it is
overwhelming, a sense of being and time and lostness no amount of
Odysseuses returning and doppelgängers slain or wormholes articulated
and homecomings inaugurated can reassemble or rearrange into the shining
material we might imagine it once was.
I wish more people used this kind of words to talk about TPTR, made connections like these. It is without doubt one of the best articles I’ve read about the show.