Danny Amor's Online Library/Danny Amor's Online Library - Volume 1.iso/html/startrek/misc/qrules

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From: Alara Rogers <[e-mail]>
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Subject: Q Rules! (An Unauthorized History) 1/6
Date: Tue, 28 Mar 95 23:04:59 -0500
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This message has been posted to a.s.c. by Alara Rogers
([e-mail]), but she is *not* the author. All comments, e-mail,
etc, should go to the author, Atara Stein at [e-mail].


This a draft of the essay for which I posted my Q questionnaire a few
months ago.  What will happen to this essay eventually, I haven't a clue
(suggestions?), but I thought I should post it, since so many people who
answered my questionnaire expressed interest in it.  Conciseness has never
been one of my virtues--this is *way* long, but I hope it's both
entertaining and thought-provoking.  John de Lancie's comments are from
two phone interviews in August and November, 1994, and Ron Moore's
comments are from an interview in November 1994.  Their helpfulness should
*not* be construed as implying any endorsement of my conclusions.  I also
want to thank all of you who answered my questionnaire and even more so
those of you who have read and made comments on this.  Again, my
conclusions are my own; don't blame anybody I quote in this essay.
Comments are more than welcome--either posted or e-mailed.  It's in 6
parts, and I've broken it up according to length, not context.

Q Rules!
An Unauthorized History
Copyright (c) 1995
Atara Stein

"Q rules!"

"Q kicks ass!  He is by far the best. . . .  Q is the end all be all of
all my aspirations."

"I think that Q is one of the best actors on Star Trek.  I love his
personality and how he is completely sarcastic.  I think that Picard
should be more tolerant of Q's little pranks.  I mean, he's never ACTUALLY
destroyed the universe, has he?  He just makes them think."

"Q is so cool; I've never liked a 'bad guy' so much!"

"I think Q is the most sexy and clever being in the entire galaxy!"

These comments are representative of fan reactions to Q, omnipotent
superbeing and most popular visitor to the USS Enterprise NCC-1701 D
during the seven-year run of Star Trek:  The Next Generation.  Q has been
the subject of two Star Trek:  TNG novels (Q-in-Law and Q-Squared by Peter
David), can be purchased as a plastic miniature action figure (described
on the package as "Mischievous Omniscient Being"), has his own Internet
newsgroup (alt.fan.q), provokes impassioned discussion on other Star Trek
newsgroups, and has been the inspiration of reams of fan fiction.  A
survey about Q that I posted on four Star Trek newsgroups generated over
35 responses, from which I quote throughout this essay.  How to account
for Q's remarkable popularity and impact on his audience?  The answer lies
in John de Lancie's multilayered performances, in Q's function as the
Enterprise's presiding deity, and in his relationship with Captain
Jean-Luc Picard (Patrick Stewart).  To the humans he encounters, Q is
half-devil and half-God, half-judge and half-protector, half-sadistic
tormentor and half-benevolent despot.  Q does, in fact, rule over Picard
and his crew.  Q abounds in regal gestures like the arrogant snap of the
finger, and he frequently attires himself in costumes of figures with
absolute authority, the all-powerful judge in the post-atomic horror
courtroom in "Encounter at Farpoint" and "All Good Things . . . ," the
Napoleonic marshal in "Hide and Q," the High Sheriff of Nottingham in
"Qpid," and most explicitly, God in "Tapestry."  Although he is initially
a villain, in the tradition of the spoiled, powerful, and pesky Trelane
from "The Squire of Gothos" (TOS), over the seven years of the series Q
evolves into a hero, providing Captain Jean-Luc Picard with needed
leadership and guidance.  At the same time that Q serves as an authority
figure, he is also the rebel, the outlaw, the loner, who makes his own
rules and does whatever he damn well pleases.  He defies the authority of
his superiors in the Q Continnum and repeatedly knocks the paragon Picard
off his pedestal of inhuman perfectionism, duty, and self-discipline.  He
simultaneously satisfies our desire for a powerful leader who can solve
all our problems and our desire to rebel against institutional authority.
Q serves initially as the embodiment of our own desires for power and
autonomy, yet to gain his viewers' sympathy he must shed some of his
arrogance and acknowledge the value of human life, despite its
limitations.  The ethos of Star Trek: TNG seems to be a faith in human
progress, and whether he is tormenting humans or assisting them, Q's
function in the universe of the series is to question but ultimately to
confirm that faith.  As Q fan Irene Gawel explains, Q's omnipotence
"allows the exploration . . . of the philosophical/ethical topics that
make TNG so intriguing."  Despite his unceasing contempt for humankind as
a species, Q reveals his own evolving humanity by falling in love with a
human, his alter-ego, his soul's mirror and counterpart, the object of his
mockery and affection, his frustrations and desires, the man he treats as
his private property and his "beloved pet," the man he addresses as "mon
Capitaine."

I
Alara Rogers, a devoted Q fan and self-described "reformed Q-hater,"
struggling to reconcile Q's early and late TNG appearances, comments, "In
the first show, Q was an asshole.  There's no other way to describe it."
Precisely.  In his over-the-top performance as humankind's prosecutor,
judge, jury, and potential executioner, de Lancie makes Q into the
quintessential antithesis of all that Star Trek stands for, a
representative of a species Picard eloquently condemns as "self-righteous
life-forms who are eager not to learn but to prosecute, to judge anything
they don't understand or can't tolerate."  In "Encounter at Farpoint," he
accuses humans of being "a dangerous, savage child-race"; in the series
finale, "All Good Things . . . ," he returns Jean-Luc Picard (Patrick
Stewart), the Captain of the Starship Enterprise, to the courtroom to
convict humans of "being inferior."  Q the misanthrope sees only
humankind's flaws and limitations and refuses to acknowledge their
progress, a hoped-for evolution that is central to Roddenberry's vision.
In "Encounter at Farpoint," Q begins his tradition of labeling humans with
a series of uncomplimentary epithets, a tradition that continues through
"All Good Things . . . ."  While Q acknowledges humankind's potential to
evolve into a much higher species, he repeatedly refers to humans as "a
grievously savage race," "a pitiful species," "foolish, fragile
non-entities," "commonplace little creatures," "a minor species in the
grand scheme," and "an ape-like race," and mocks their ventures into space
as "Wasted effort, considering human intelligence."  In "True Q," when a
crew member challenges Q's credentials as "an expert in humanity," he
responds, "Not a very challenging field of study, I grant you."

Q is the clearly designated antagonist; on the premiere of a new Star Trek
series, he arrives on the bridge of the Enterprise demanding that the ship
*cease* boldly going where no one has gone before.  He announces, "Thou
art notified that thy kind hath infiltrated the galaxy too far already.
Thou art directed to return to thine own solar system immediately."  In
contrast to the Federation, with its tradition of non-interference with
other species, Q and the Continuum imperialistically designate themselves
as the overseers and judges of humankind.  Interference is Q's way of
life; he feels entitled to throw a force field around the ship, kidnap the
crew, transport them to a mockery of a courtroom, and threaten their
lives.  Q couldn't care less about the Prime Directive.  We know, of
course, that the Enterprise is going to continue its "trek through the
stars" and that Q is going to be soundly trounced by Captain Picard, the
liberal humanist who confidently extolls humankind's progress.  At the
same time, Q is already proving himself the questioner; his condemnation
of humankind's past behavior is accurate, as he describes the slaughter of
"millions in silly arguments about how to divide the resources of your
little world" and humans "murdering each other in quarrels over tribal god
images."  He is no match for Picard, though; although Picard must
acknowledge humankind's past brutality, he reaches a fair and non-violent
solution to the puzzle of Farpoint Station, and Q, muttering "Lucky guess"
in a display of sour grapes, is forced to let the Enterprise continue on
her way.  He refuses to concede defeat, however, insisting, "I see now it
was too simple a puzzle.  Generosity has always been my weakness."  The
episode concludes with a verbal sparring match between Picard and Q, one
that provides a model for their future interactions:
Picard:  Why do you use other life forms for your recreation?
Q:  If so, you've not provided the best.
Picard:  Leave us.  We've passed your little test.
Q:  Temper, temper, mon Capitaine.
Picard:  Get off my ship!
Q:  I do so only because it suits me to leave.  But I will not promise
never to appear again.
Q's need to disparage humankind is almost desperate, and from "Farpoint"
on, the crew never takes it terribly seriously, aware that Q feels
threatened by human potential and at the same time is much too fascinated
by humans to do them serious damage, despite his capacity to do so.  While
he makes threats and occasionally temporarily immobilizes various members
of the crew, he never *directly* harms any of them.

The Q Continuum's concern with human potential is the impetus behind "Hide
and Q," generally acknowledged to be the least successful of the Q
episodes.  It is notable, however, for Q's explicitly Satanic role and for
making clear what direction Q could *not* continue in.  There was a reason
Trelane did not make repeated appearances, and "Hide and Q" made very
clear that Q would have to change in order to become a viable returning
guest.  Once again Q kidnaps several crew members, interrupting a mission
where lives are at stake, with absolutely no concern for the consequences,
snapping derisively, "Your species is always suffering and dying."
Despite some heated exchanges with Picard, Q's interest here is in Riker
(Jonathan Frakes), whom he (correctly) surmises to be an easier target,
someone far more likely than Picard to succumb to the Satanic temptations
he offers--knowledge and power.  With an alluring voice, he offers "the
realization of your most impossible dreams."  He sets up a "completely
unfair" and completely rigged test, in which the crew is forced to try to
prove itself against heavily-armed "soldier things" in Napoleonic-era
uniforms.  As the test is in fact unfair, the only way Riker can save his
companions is by using the powers Q has lent him.  Successfully seduced by
Q, Riker makes a pact with the devil he soon regrets.  Although the powers
he has been granted do hold the potential for good, the episode readily
demonstrates that Q has created an instant asshole.  Riker struts with an
arrogant, pompous, and haughty demeanor, begins addressing his commanding
officer by first name, and breaches protocol by walking out on Picard when
the Captain is in mid-sentence and demanding a meeting, something which is
only the Captain's prerogative.  Riker then makes an utter fool of
himself, trying to force gifts on his his friends that they do not desire
and naively buying Q's line that the Q "think very highly of us."

Although Riker is, on the surface, the focus of the episode, Q's visit to
the Enterprise really serves to present Roddenberry's vision in the form
of Picard's humanism.  Picard quotes Hamlet's speech about "What a piece
of work is man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form
and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in
apprehension how like a god," and Q incredulously demands, "Surely you
don't see your species like that, do you?" to which Picard replies, "I see
us one day becoming that, Q."  Q's function here is purely to provide an
occasion for Picard to express an optimistic faith in human progress that
is inextricable from a belief in the concept of gradual evolution.  Picard
insists that Q's power "is too great a temptation for us at our present
stage of development."  What Wesley tells Riker when turning down the
adulthood Riker has conferred on him also applies to our species; we have
"to get there on [our] own."  Q himself is the vehicle for Roddenberry's
optimism, explaining "It's the human future which intrigues us . . . and
it should concern you the most.  You see, of all the species, yours cannot
abide stagnation.  Change is at the heart of what you are, but change into
what?  That's the question."  He speculates that humans may eventually
advance "even beyond" his own species.

Although Q almost succeeds in tempting Riker to allow himself to be the
Continuum's guinea pig, so they can study the "human compulsion" to
"learn" and "explore," it is Picard who triumphs at the end of the
episode, thoroughly humiliating both Riker and Q.  Picard defeats Q with
mockery and with his sound knowledge of human nature.  When Q appears on
the bridge in a monk's robe, intoning, "Let us pray for understanding,"
Picard snaps, "Let us do no such *damn* thing."  But he allows Riker to go
through the ritual of presenting his friends with parting gifts, for he
knows precisely what the result will be.  As the crew members begin to
reject the benefits Riker tries to confer upon them, the camera
occasionally pans toward Picard, sitting in his captain's chair with a
studied confidence and a slight smile, as events transpire exactly as he
anticipated.  When Riker finally realizes the folly of having signed his
soul over to the devil, he turns to his Captain in shame, admitting, "I
feel like such an idiot," and Picard replies briskly, "Quite right.  So
you should."  Picard's scorn withers both Riker and Q, rendering both of
them the objects of the viewers' laughter.  Q is unceremoniously whisked
off the bridge by his superiors, protesting, "No!  No!  If I could just do
one more thing!" and howling melodramatically as he disappears.  The
episode concludes with a moral tag so explicit it should be engraved on a
plaque.  Data asks, "Sir, how is it that the Q can handle time and space
so well and us so badly?" and Picard replies aphoristically, "Perhaps
someday we will discover that space and time are simpler than the human
equation."

Despite its lack of subtlety and other failures, "Hide and Q" is
instructive.  It establishes Q as an explicitly Satanic tempter and
defeats him so thoroughly that he obviously has nowhere to go but up.
Although his misanthropy and his style of banter with Picard will be
retained in subsequent episodes, there would be no point to yet another
episode where Q appears, torments the crew, mocks human limitations, and
is once again trounced by Picard in an eloquent speech.  Q needed a new
twist.  Fortunately for his subsequent appearances on the show, de Lancie
establishes some interesting facets of Q's demeanor that will provide
significant material later.  One is simply the energy of his performance,
particularly given the stilted lines he is given, lines such as "That's
why we selected *you*, Riker, to become part of the Q, so that you can
bring to us this human need and hunger that we may better understand it."
Uh-huh.  Right.  When Riker asks Picard for permission to present his
friends with gifts, Q declares, with a panoply of exaggerated gestures and
facial expressions, "Oh how touching.  A plea to his former Captain.  May
I please give happiness to my friends, sir?  Please sir?" in a voice
dripping with a sarcasm so tangible one could bottle it.  Even in this
episode, he is such fun to watch, particularly in Q's confrontations with
Picard, that he had to be brought back in some fashion.  This episode also
subtly (or not so subtly) establishes Q's polymorphous sexuality.  His
demeanor toward Riker during their conversation on the planet is campy and
seductive; he draws close to the first officer, invading his personal
space and giving him a series of low-lidded seductive looks while speaking
in a bedroom voice that incongruously undermines the pretentious dialog
about human evolution.  One viewer, who had never seen a Q episode before,
watched a minute or so of this scene, then asked, "Is Q gay?"  Q's smile
and tone of voice with which he delivers the line "You're gonna miss me"
is far more flirtatious than menacing.  While de Lancie manages to kindle
a slight flame under this scene with Frakes, despite the ponderous weight
of the dialog, it is obvious that his onscreen chemistry with Stewart is
much more compelling.  In subsequent episodes, Picard will be the object
of Q's attention.

II
"Q Who," Q's second season appearance, serves as a transitional episode
from Q's role as villain to his evolving role as protector and guide.  And
as Ronald D. Moore (writer of "Tapestry" and co-writer of "All Good Things
. . . ," co-writer of Star Trek:  Generations and currently supervising
producer and writer for Star Trek:  Deep Space Nine), notes, this episode
was also crucial in establishing the personal relationship between Q and
Picard that is central to Q's appeal.  In "Q Who," Q is still the devil,
whispering in a sinister fashion, his lips touching Picard's ear as he
tries to compel the Captain to eat from the Tree of Knowledge he offers.
He remains as autocratic and interfering as ever, kidnapping Picard in a
shuttlecraft and threatening to keep him there, for decades if necessary,
until he concedes to Q's demands.  His demeanor is far more threatening
and menacing than in his earlier appearances; he bites off his words with
ferocity, as he declares with a hiss, "We have busi*ness*, Picard."  When
Picard staunchly insists, "Keeping me a prisoner here will not compel me
to discuss anything with you," Q whips around behind the Captain's
shoulder, places his lips immediately next to his ear, and threatens, "It
will in *time*."  That move, appearing immediately behind the person he is
addressing and speaking directly into his or her ear, in a Satanic manner
that is both seductive and menacing, becomes a part of Q's repertoire in
subsequent appearances.  In reaction, Picard sits understandably rigid;
having an omnipotent entity at such close range would be undoubtedly
unsettling.  In this episode, Q clearly has the upper hand, and he knows
it, casually bouncing a ball against the wall of the shuttlecraft and
snapping off each catch with precision, as he awaits Picard's inevitable
concession.  He notes, "I'm ageless Picard; you are not."  Q may be the
devil, but he is a devil who knows a hell of a lot better than the Captain
of the Starship Enterprise does.  Q is right when he describes the
knowledge he can make available to Picard and his crew:  "You judge
yourselves against the pitiful adversaries you've encountered so far.  The
Romulans, the Klingons.  They're nothing compared to what's waiting.
Picard, you are about to move into areas of the galaxy containing wonders
more incredible than you can possibly imagine and terrors to freeze your
soul.  I offer myself as guide only to be rejected out of hand."  When
Picard arrogantly proclaims (while denying that he is being arrogant),
"Your help is not required," he is dead wrong.  It doesn't take a rocket
scientist to figure out that an omnipotent being could be a very useful
ally when exploring uncharted areas of the galaxy and encountering hostile
races (a theme Peter David explores in Q-in-Law).  Granted, it would not
be particularly good for Picard and his crew to grow dependent on Q's
help, as Alara Rogers reminds me, but it's also the case that on a limited
basis Q's guidance and knowledge could be beneficial.

In a significant departure from Roddenberry's vision, this episode
actually validates Q's interference.  The Borg are such an overwhelming
threat that it is clear that Federation-style diplomacy is utterly
pointless, and both Q and Guinan repeatedly emphasize how relentless and
impervious to reason these new antagonists are.  The episode also
establishes two significant patterns for subsequent Q appearances.  One is
a set-up whereby it *appears* as though Q is the bad guy and is going to
be defeated, but then a reversal occurs, and Q is shown to be both in the
right and actually on humans' side.  Despite his Satanic demeanor in "Q
Who," and Picard's firm insistence that Q's "help is not required," Q is
proven right in the end.  Picard and his crew do *not* have the capacity
to handle every challenge they meet, and Picard comments ruefully, "Maybe
Q did the right thing for the wrong reason . . . .  Perhaps what we most
needed was a kick in our complacency to prepare us for what lies ahead."
The other pattern is that of the uncharacteristic fallibility that Picard
displays in this and several other subsequent Q episodes.  His own
arrogance leads him to make a fatal mistake in refusing Q's offer of
guidance, costing the lives of 18 crewmembers.  When Picard tries to blame
Q for the deaths, Q responds callously, but accurately:   "If you can't
take a little bloody nose, maybe you ought to go back home and crawl under
your bed.  It's not safe out here.  It's wondrous, with treasures to
satiate desires both subtle and gross.  But it's not for the timid."
Picard makes three very big mistakes:  1) although he is supposed to be a
skilled diplomat, he carelessly and thoughtlessly antagonizes an extremely
powerful being; 2) he disregards Guinan's advice (*always* a mistake!) to
turn back immediately; and 3) he doesn't ask for Q's help the moment it
becomes clear the Enterprise is *way* outmatched.  Q may be *indirectly*
responsible for the 18 lives lost, but it was Picard's decisions that set
up the chain of events which killed his crew members.

Whether Q is responsible for the future Borg invasion is a more complex
matter.  While Guinan suggests that Q has accelerated the Federation's
encounter with the Borg, essentially holding him responsible for the
Borg's future disastrous incursion into Federation space, it is also the
case that without this premature encounter, Starfleet would have been even
more disastrously unprepared when the Borg eventually appeared without
warning.  In "Best of Both Worlds," Part 2, Data uses information gleaned
from this original encounter with the Borg to figure out how to access
Picard/Locutus' mind and to use the information Picard gives him to
disable the Borg ship.  The issue is never resolved in subsequent
episodes, but the argument *can* be made that Q is, in fact, indirectly
responsible for the 11,000 lives lost in the Borg invasion.  He certainly
never expresses any remorse, but neither does the crew explicitly blame
him.  Several of his fans, however, insist that Q's actions helped the
Federation in their conflict with the Borg.  Tim Crall, for instance,
says, "he exposed the Enterprise to the Borg so that they would have a
warning that they were coming, not just to play with Picard."  And
Christopher B. Morley says, "this gave the Federation time to prepare for
the Borg's advance."  A fan who identifies himself as Kahless the
Unforgettable agrees that Q "helped in the defeat of the Borg by allowing
them to meet the Borg before they arrived in Federation space."  And John
E. Harrington argues that by allowing them to prepare, "Q saved the
Federation."  Whether this was Q's intention or not is a matter of
interpretation.  I believe, for reasons I hope to make clear, that the
loss of 11,000 human lives would probably not be a matter of much concern
to Q.  While he eventually develops relationships with individual humans,
I don't believe he ever manifests a genuine concern for the species as a
whole.

At any rate, Q does not expose the Enterprise to the Borg out of any
desire to improve human awareness, although that is his unintended result.
 His initial desire to join the Enterprise's crew was simply the result of
boredom.  Exiled from the Continuum as a result of his failure to tempt
Riker, he describes himself as having "been wandering vaguely, bored
really, my existence without purpose."  He is so bored with his own
existence, that he develops a fascination with humans and desires their
companionship, despite their inferiority, yet he is so arrogant,
egotistical, irritating, and overbearing, that he alienates them even when
he is trying to assist them or gain their assistance.  It is in "Q Who"
that Q really begins to be humanized, that we begin to see glimpses Q's
vulnerabilities, the very vulnerabilities that he tries so very hard to
conceal with his imperious demanor.  They reveal themselves nonetheless.
When Riker and Picard double-team him with a series of accusations, Q
laments, "I add a little excitement, a little spice to your lives and all
you do is complain.  Where's your adventurous spirit, your imagination?
Think, Picard, think of the possibilities."  When it is clear that Picard
has no intention of accepting Q's offer of guidance, telling Q, "Simply
speaking, we don't trust you," Q's face falls, and he looks momentarily
stricken.  Almost immediately, as if to cover his own weakness, Q condemns
Picard's arrogance and finally lashes out, throwing a temper tantrum and
declaring in a steely tone, "We'll just have to see how ready you are."
The rest of the episode reveals Q's sadism and desire for dominance.  He's
not interested in educating Picard; he's simply interested in forcing
Picard to humiliate himself and surrender to his will.  At the same time,
he derives enjoyment, or at least stimulation, out of the crew's terror
and suffering.  Knowing that the Enterprise doesn't stand a chance against
the Borg, Q deposits it in Borg space, clearly intending to enjoy the
show.  He says, with sadistic glee, "The hall is rented, the orchestra
engaged; it's now time to see if you can *dance*."  Throughout the
Enterprise's confrontation with the Borg, Q reappears periodically to
remind Picard just how helpless his situation is.  During one particularly
harrowing encounter, Q appears on a viewscreen and mocks, "Picard, are you
*sure* you don't want me as a member of your crew?"  He keeps offering
helpful comments from the sidelines, like "I"ll be leaving now.  You
thought you could handle it, so handle it," his bitter tone revealing just
how much Picard's rejection of his offer has hurt him.  Q wants to wring
as much out of his eventual triumph as possible; he doesn't merely want
Picard to admit defeat, he wants to see him *writhe*.  Q must enact the
role of all-knowing authority figure, repeatedly making gratuitous
displays of his power and getting a type of sadistic charge from Picard's
humiliation as he demands, "Where's your stubborness now, Picard, your
arrogance?  Do you still profess to be prepared for what awaits you?"  In
this episode, Picard's humanism doesn't stand a chance; for all of his
brutality, Q is beginning to make the transition to a leadership role, a
role that will become much more pronounced in "True Q," "Q-Less,"
"Tapestry," and "All Good Things . . . ."  Q's victory in "Q Who" is
total, and Picard is forced to admit that he was wrong.  A fan who
identifies herself as Sonja says, in regard to this episode, "Q had a
point to prove, and he did it at the expense of 18 lives.  But what he did
was in humanity's best long-term interest.  It was sort of a freebie
object lesson, that was painful, but (in Q's mind) necessary."  Again, I
have my doubts about Q's concern for humanity's best interests; although
Picard and crew *do* benefit from the experience, I believe Q was simply
trying to get back at Picard.


***********************************************************
Atara Stein

Picard to Q:  "To learn about you is frankly provocative, but you're next
of kin to chaos."


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From: Alara Rogers <[e-mail]>
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: Q Rules! (An Unauthorized History) 2/6
Date: Tue, 28 Mar 95 23:05:23 -0500
Organization: Delphi ([e-mail] email, 800-695-4005 voice)
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This message has been posted to a.s.c. by Alara Rogers
([e-mail]), but she is *not* the author. All comments, e-mail,
etc, should go to the author, Atara Stein at [e-mail]. (The line
breaks are Atara's fault!) :-)


Q takes a comic turn in "Deja Q," the episode which most thoroughly
explores his misanthropy,
ironically, by making him human.  He is deposited naked on the bridge of
the Enterprise, having
been stripped of his omnipotence and his immortality by his superiors for
spreading "chaos
through the universe."  Thoroughly humiliated at his "significant career
change," Q announces to
the crew, "I stand before you defrocked, condemned to be a member of this
*lowest* of species, a
normal, imperfect, *lumpen* human being."  Complaining that his superiors
have decided to
punish him, he is an easy target for Picard's dry wit:  "And punish us as
well, it would seem."
While, normally, Worf (Michael Dorn) is the recipient of Q's cruelest
barbs, in this episode, he
gets the best line.  Frustrated that no one believes he is human, Q
demands, "What must I do to
convince you people?" and Worf replies succinctly and devastatingly,
"Die."  As Alara Rogers
points out, Q's desperate, but not terribly effective retort, "Oh, very
clever, Worf, eat any good
books lately?" reveals his emotional turmoil.  He is utterly terrified at
his transformation, for now
he actually *can* die, but is perhaps even more terrified at the prospect
of letting his feelings
show.  The episode emphasizes both Q's physical vulnerability and lack of
interpersonal skills, in
order to point up the contrast with his previously omnipotent state and to
reveal his utter
incompetence without his powers.

With his powers intact, Q doesn't need to worry if anybody likes him; he
can simply get what he
wants by being the toughest bully on the schoolyard.  Without his powers,
however, he hasn't a
clue how to relate to other people.  Q dreads having to engage in "human
interpersonal
relationships."  He anticipates not being able to fit in with the rest of
the crew, remarking, "I'm not
good in groups.  It's difficult to work in a group when you're
omnipotent."  In this episode, Q's
sarcasm falls flat, his attempted barbs bouncing harmlessly off their
objects.  He is equally
ineffective at recruiting allies, making a pathetic attempt to ingratiate
himself with Worf, of all
people, by unconvincingly asserting his affinity to Klingons.  His usual
verbal facility has
vanished; the best he can come up with is "Please don't feel compelled now
to tell me the story of
the boy who cried Worf."  Huh?  When he is unable to get Worf on his side,
he can only resort to
name-calling.  As Worf walks out of the detention cell, Q yells,
"Romulan!" but to no effect.  Worf
simply continues out of the room.  Q tries to assert some authority,
blustering his way around
Engineering and trying to take charge, but again to no effect.  Neither
Data nor La Forge is the least
bit impressed.  When Guinan (Whoopi Goldberg) mocks him as "Just one of
the boys, eh," Q
snaps, "One of the boys with an IQ of two thousand and five!" but Guinan
is the clear victor in this
exchange, telling Q, quite accurately, "You're a pitiful excuse for a
human."  When Q reacts to
Guinan's listing of his transgressions by bitterly exclaiming, "I'll do
missionary work, OK?" Data
unintentionally pulls the rug out from under him by stating simply, "That
would be a very noble
cause, Q."  His utter self-absorption is revealed in his complete lack of
concern for Data (Brent
Spiner), who is injured while saving Q's life.  Observing no celebration
at his narrow escape, Q
mutters, "The cheers are overwhelming."  At his moment of greatest
vulnerability, he casts
aspersions on the very human qualities he must rely on.  Confident that
Picard will offer him
protection from his enemies, Q sneers, "I know human beings.  They're all
sopping over with
compassion and forgiveness.  They can't wait to absolve almost any
offense.  It's an inherent
weakness of the breed."  Q simply cannot function as a human being; he
cannot imagine himself
endangering his own life to save another's as Data does for him, confesses
his own selfishness,
although noting, "it has served me so well in the past," and is terrified
of dying.  When he tells
Picard how ashamed he is, Picard snaps impatiently, "I'm not your
father-confessor, Q.  You will
receive no absolution from me."  Q responds, "As I learn more and more
what it is to be human, I
am more and more convinced that I would never make a good one.  I don't
have what it takes.
Without my powers I'm frightened of everything.  I'm a coward, and I'm
miserable, and I can't go
on this way."

Q's physical vulnerability is even more devastating, as Guinan proves when
she stabs him with a
fork, while remarking, "Seems human enough to me."  He is dumped on the
bridge naked, but
objects strenuously and campily to the clothes that have been provided for
him:  "*These aren't my
colors!*"  He's right.  The drab colors of the ill-fitting jumpsuit he
wears are a continual reminder
of how out-of-place Q is.  For him, human existence is a series of
physical discomforts and
humiliations.  He complains:
It was a mistake.  I never should have picked human.  I knew it the moment
I said it.  To think of a
future in this shell.  Forced to cover myself with a fabric because of
some outdated human
morality.  To say nothing of being too hot or too cold.  Growing feeble
with age.  Losing my hair.
Catching a disease.  Being ticklish.  Sneezing.  Having an itch.  A
pimple.  Bad breath.  Having to
bathe?
Q abhors the limitations and discomforts to which a physical existence
condemns him.  As he
remarks, "I can now stub my toe with the best of them."  The contrast
between his previously
omnipotent state and his human vulnerability is particularly displayed
when he is in the brig and
carelessly runs into the force field that is holding him in.  He
complains, "*This* is getting on my
nerves, now that I have them."  Later he experiences severe back pains and
gasps, "I'm feeling
pain.  I *don't* like it. What's the right thing to say?  Ow?"  The comic
incongruity of his
melodramatic response to natural human functions makes him a repeated butt
of humor, as in the
following two exchanges:
Q:  I've been entirely preoccupied by a most frightening experience of my
own.  A couple of hours
ago I realized that my body was no longer functioning properly.  I felt
weak.  I could no longer
stand.  The life was oozing out of me.  I lost consciousness.
Picard:  You fell asleep.
Q:  How terrifying.  How can you stand it day after day?
Picard:  You get used to it.
    * * *
Q:  Ow!  I think.
Crusher:  Now what?
Q:  There's something wrong with my stomach.
Crusher:  It hurts?
Q:  It's making noises.
Crusher:  Maybe you're hungry.
Neither Picard nor Crusher (nor the viewers) can muster much sympathy.
Without his powers, Q
is a joke.

De Lancie brings out Q's physical vulnerability in the markedly different
way he holds himself and
moves in "Deja Q."  With his powers *intact*, Q is entropy incarnate,
restlessly emitting energy
from an apparently unlimited source.  He is in constant motion, as if
unable to be contained in the
confined spaces in which he finds himself, pacing, gesturing flamboyantly,
circling like a vulture,
sitting down only to jump up immediately, and punctuating displays of his
power with a
superfluous and hyperbolic snap of the finger.  In "Q Who," when he
vanishes out of a chair with
his trademark burst of light, the chair rocks back and forth, testifying
to the energy that has been
released.  Even when sitting, he doesn't relax, but strikes calculated
poses, putting his arms behind
his head and crossing one leg over another in an exaggerated simulation of
relaxation or leaning
back coyly, one leg stretched out, his hands wrapped around one knee in a
seductive manner.  The
contrast between Q's unfocused displays of nervous energy and Picard's
self-discipline is
particularly brought out in "Q Who."  In the shuttlecraft, Q whiles away
the hours by bouncing a
ball off a bulkhead, while Picard sits ramrod straight, a model of
restraint.  In "Deja Q," Picard is
similarly contained, reining in his exasperation and frustration until the
right moment to release it.
At the end of the episode, his powers restored, Q intends to party,
complete with mariachi band.
Trying to evade Picard's disapproval, he whines, "But I want to
celebrate," and Picard thunders "I
DON'T!" so forcefully that Q must acquiesce.  Q, by contrast, loses his
temper repeatedly in
flurries of sarcasm that volley from target to target.  Even when Picard
is the object of his attention,
he can't resist getting in digs at Riker and Worf as well, expending
energy in every direction
possible.  Q continuously and flamboyantly overreacts to frustration.  In
"Hide and Q," he throws
Picard's Shakespeare volume at him; in "Tapestry," he sweeps an entire
chess set off a table with a
growl of disgust.  *Without* his powers, however, he is awkward and
subdued, his posture
revealing his lack of energy and confidence.  He stands listlessly with
his shoulders slumped and
arms folded, or stoops, or leans forward, his hands on a table, instead of
making the most of his
height.  His movements have lost their usual sharpness and quickness, and
his costume makes him
look almost fat.  Instead of reclining gracefully, he sleeps curled up on
his side in a fetal position.
He seems particularly subdued in contrast to his colleague from the
Continuum (Corbin Bernsen,
to be hereafter referred to as Q2), who radiates energy and a breezy
confidence.  In his short visit
with Q in the shuttlecraft, Q2 makes a series of flamboyant gestures with
outstretched hands, while
striking one pose after another, as if thoroughly enjoying the resources
of this human form he has
just adopted.  He keeps looking at his hands in wonder, as if thinking,
"Gee, these things are
pretty cool after all!"  While Q2 bounces around the cabin, Q sits
apathetically slumped over the
shuttlecraft's controls.  As soon as his powers are restored, however,
energy floods his being.  He
sits up straight, his eyes gleam demonically, and he snaps his fingers
purposefully, in order to
restore his favorite Starfleet uniform *before* threatening revenge on the
Calamarain (priorities
*are* priorities after all).   Back on the bridge, he looks slimmer and
draws himself up to his full
height during his mariachi performance.  Blowing a kiss to Picard with two
hands, he has restored
his usual campy flamboyance.

Ultimately what Q learns is that Worf is right.  To be human is to be
defined by mortality (as Star
Trek:  Generations repeatedly emphasizes).  As he apparently learns by the
time of "Tapestry,"
mortality gives life focus and purpose, but his first experience of the
possibility of dying devastates
him.  His newfound vulnerability makes him a target for a species he had
earlier tormented, the
Calamarain, and after being attacked and nearly killed, he becomes acutely
aware of mortality for
the first time.  He tells Picard, "Don't be so hard on me, Jean-Luc.
You've been a mortal all your
life.  You know all about dying.  I've never given it a second thought.
Or a first one for that
matter.  I could have been killed.  If it hadn't been for Data and that
one brief delay he created, I
would have been gone.  No more me.  And no one would have missed me, would
they?"  The
only escape he can imagine from the limitations of mortality, ironically,
is suicide, preferring to die
as a coward, because "as a human, I would have died of boredom."

At the same time, Q's own utter incompetence as a human leads him to a new
appreciation of
humanity; he can't help but be impressed with how well they cope with
their limitations and
vulnerabilities, once he has experienced them for himself.  He still
doesn't understand Data's
desire to be human, saying, "There are creatures in the universe who would
consider you the
ultimate achievement, android.  No feelings, no emotions, no pain.  And
yet you covet those
qualities of humanity.  Believe me, you're missing nothing."  But he
admires the android
nonetheless, telling him, with a self-deprecating smile, "If it means
anything to you, you're a better
human than I."  Q seems to realize more and more that humans have made the
most of what he sees
as very meager endowments, and Q2 similarly shares his fascination.  Q2 is
amazed that Picard
and his crew are, however against their better judgment, trying to save
Q's life, after all the trouble
he has caused them (Picard has to justify himself to Riker by remarking,
"It's a perfectly good
shuttlecraft").  Q dismisses their efforts as "a genetic weakness of the
race," but he is both grateful
and impressed.  He admires Data's self-sacrifice enough to emulate it in
his suicide mission to
divert the attacking Calamarain away from the Enterprise.  It is this
human-like "selfless act" that
convinces Q2 to restore his powers, and Q has learned a lesson of sorts.
He shows a rare touch of
modesty in restoring the orbit of the Bre'el moon without telling anyone,
and although he annoys
the hell out of Picard with his impromptu celebration on the bridge, Q's
"gift" to Data is actually
thoughtfully selected--a good laugh that Data gratefully characterizes as
"a wonderful feeling."  Of
course, even with powers intact, the Q prove themselves as human as the
rest of us.  In his
confrontation with Q2, Q sneers, "It wasn't me who misplaced the entire
Deltived Asteroid Belt,"
and Q2 returns, "This isn't about *me*!"  Like the gods of the Greek
Pantheon, the Q have
superhuman powers but are apparently as petty, fallible, irrational, and
self-absorbed as any
human.  As one fan remarks, "The Greek gods, and Q, are more like
omnipotent *people*; all the
power in the universe, and all the flaws too!"  That, of course, is a
large part of Q's appeal.  One
of his fans describes him as an "eternal child"; he can be irrational,
selfish, and childish and get
away with it, with very little concern for the consequences.  Chris Morley
states, "I find Q
interesting because he has unimaginable powers, yet he takes no
responsibility for them.  He is the
galaxy's most powerful child."

In its comic rendition of a self-absorbed, omnipotent entity cut down to
size, "Deja Q" maintains
the humanistic tradtion of the Star Trek canon.  Humans are clearly
superior to Q in their
determination to make the most of their endowments and in their ability
"to form relationships."  Q
is miserable as a human, but he's a pitiful excuse for a superbeing as
well.  He misuses his
powers, tormenting "inferior" species, and he gets himself exiled from the
Continuum twice.  Q2
scolds him, "You're incorrigible, Q.  You're a lost cause.  I can't go to
a single solar system
without having to apologize for you.  And I'm tired of it."  At the same
time this scene in the
shuttlecraft humanizes Q even more thoroughly by offering hints as to Q's
problematic relationship
with his fellow Qs.  Alara Rogers convincingly argues that Q must feel he
has suffered a massive
betrayal on the part of his colleagues, and he reveals the extent to which
this betrayal has hurt him
in his reactions to Q2's statements.  Q eagerly greets Q2, saying "I
always thought you were in my
corner."  Q2 then corrects him, noting, "You see, actually, I was the one
who got you kicked out,"
leaving Q utterly devastated as his face crumbles.  The bitterness with
which he exclaims, "Well, if
the Calamarains hurry up and finish me off, we can get you on your way"
testifies to how much
this betrayal has affected him.  Although he is humiliated by the
Enterprise crew and Q2, "Deja Q"
does contain hints of Q's future evolution.  As in "Q Who," and subsequent
Q episodes, Picard
errs repeatedly.  He is wrong both in his belief that Q is responsible for
the moon falling out of
orbit and in his persistent belief that Q is faking it.  In subsequent
episodes, Picard will prove
himself even more fallible, as Q will increasingly gain the upper hand.
We also see that Q's
omnipotence has some advantages; he is able to do what the Enterprise's
advanced technology
couldn't--restore the moon's orbit.  Q surpasses humans in knowledge and
abilities, and thus he
holds great potential to provide humans with guidance and assistance as we
learned in "Q Who."
Herein lies the paradox.  Although he becomes increasingly human himself,
he never loses his
conviction of his own superiority.  At the end of the episode, Picard is
about to chalk up yet
another triumph for liberal humanism, remarking, "Perhaps there's a
residue of humanity in Q after
all."  In the middle of issuing his command, "Engage," with his
traditional gesture of pointing to
the stars, Picard is non-plussed to discover a cigar appear in his hand,
with Q's disembodied head
wreathed in the smoke, replying "Don't bet on it, Picard."  Omnipotent and
immortal again, Q gets
the last word.

III
And the last word is what Q will get from now on as he evolves into his
role as the Enterprise's
presiding deity.  Having been thoroughly humanized out of his Satanic role
in "Deja Q," he is now
well on his way to becoming God.  "True Q" and "Q-Less" (an episode of
Star Trek:  Deep Space
Nine) are notable for the ways in which they turn our expectations of Q on
their heads.  Both
episodes lead us to believe that Q is once again reprising his Satanic
role, in each case trying to lure
a woman to join him, and apparently displaying an utterly callous lack of
concern for human life.
In "True Q," Q investigates a young woman, Amanda Rogers (Olivia d'Abo),
who is serving as an
intern on board the Enterprise.  We learn that although she believes
herself to be human, she is
actually the daughter of two members of the Q Continuum who had taken on
human form and
decided to live on Earth.  When they refused to give up their Q powers,
they were executed by
order of the Continuum, and Amanda was adopted by human parents.  Q's
mission is to evaluate
Amanda's powers and convince her to join the Continuum if she is in fact
completely Q . . . or
execute her if she isn't.  His attitude is initially flippant and callous:
Q:  If this child does not learn how to control her power, she may
accidentally destroy herself, or
all of you, or perhaps your entire galaxy.
Picard:  I find it hard to believe that you're here to do us a favor.
Q:  You're quite right.  I wouldn't.  But there are those in the Continuum
who have an over-
exaggerated sense of responsibility.  They think we need to take
precautions to keep the little dear
from running amok.
Q positions himself as the rebel once again, obeying the orders of his
superiors with a palpable
reluctance.  He manages to offend just about everyone, treating Amanda in
a patronizing manner
(almost every word he uses to describe her is prefaced by the adjective
"little"), and repeatedly
uttering such misanthropic remarks as, "Do you think she will want to
remain an enfeebled
mortal?"  When Crusher objects to Q's interference, Q turns her into a
barking dog, leaving
Amanda to change her back.  Q has nothing but contempt for Amanda's human
side, and he tempts
her in his traditional Satanic manner, standing seductively at her
shoulder, speaking in her ear, and
offering her power and knowledge.  After showing her the wonders of the
galaxy from atop the
saucer of the Enterprise, he cajoles, "Now do you understand?  What do
humans have to offer you
that even begins to compare with that?  Your future contains wonders that
you can't even imagine.
The universe could be your playground."  We are even more inclined to
distrust Q when we
eventually learn that he has come as a potential assassin and will kill
Amanda if she is some kind of
hybrid, remarking in a classic case of the pot calling the kettle black,
"Do you think it's reasonable
for us to allow omnipotent beings to roam free through the universe?"  De
Lancie's performance
makes it seem very likely that he is going to assassinate Amanda after
all.  At one point he says, as
if with regret, "She's such a plucky little thing now, isn't she?" then
turns to Amanda to say, "I
really do enjoy you, you know," in a voice so laden with menace that it
seems clear he has only
been luring her toward her own destruction.

"True Q" apparently inspired a good deal of creative disagreement.
Wishing to move away from
the comic turn taken in "Deja Q" and "Qpid," de Lancie wanted to return
some "malevolence" to
Q's character.  Here is his recollection of his goals for the episode:
The thing is that I remember having said somewhere along the line, 'Kill
her.'  They all said 'My
god, no, no, no' and I said 'Why not?'  And they said, 'John, you're just
being Q-like' and I said
'Well, yeah, you got it.  Come in and kill her, assassin.'  It's a hard
ball nature that I would like to
try and find again, but I can't do it within the context of birthday
parties and babysitting and stuff
like that.  It's something you need to have the set up for.  I would have
liked to have taken it one
step further where she was killed (Mark A. Altman, Captain's Logs
Supplemental:  The Next
Generation 6th Season Guidebook (Image Publishing, 1993) 59-60).
Not bloody likely.  Q's character has simply evolved too far, and he is
too much of a favorite with
the fans to kill anybody.  Frankly, if Q had killed Amanda, the episode
would have been more
politically correct in addition to restoring Q's edge, although I'm sure
political correctness was
hardly de Lancie's goal.  If he had actually assassinated her, Q would
have been presented as a
tyrant who should be rebelled against and resisted at all costs, an
autocratic, malevolent, and
despotic dictator who opposes everything the democratic, non-interfering,
and life-respecting
Federation stands for.  The interesting thing is that Q *is* presented as
an autocratic, malevolent,
and despotic dictator, *but*, and here's the crux of the matter, the
episode slams our expectations
into reverse by having Q turn out to be *right* in the end.  By the end of
the episode, we are not
only convinced that he is entitled to decide whether Amanda lives or dies,
but also that he is a
merciful judge, who generously grants her the boon of deciding her own
future.  Not only that, but
the decision she makes violates our expectations even further.  To put it
another way, this episode
does everything possible to lead us to *condemn* Q as a type of fascist
dictator or unfair judge,
but it concludes by forcing us to *respect* him as such.  It's as if the
series' creators want to
present Q in his leadership role in as unfavorable a light as possible in
order to reinforce the
message that we need and should respect powerful and autocratic leaders
even if their methods and
demeanor are both arbitrary and brutal.  And we will be presented with the
identical message in
"All Good Things . . . ."  So much for Picard's liberal humanism.



***********************************************************
Atara Stein

Picard to Q:  "To learn about you is frankly provocative, but you're next
of kin to chaos."


Path: tivoli.tivoli.com!geraldo.cc.utexas.edu!cs.utexas.edu!news.sprintlink.net!uunet!news.delphi.com!usenet
From: Alara Rogers <[e-mail]>
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: Q Rules! (An Unauthorized History) 3/6
Date: Tue, 28 Mar 95 23:05:43 -0500
Organization: Delphi ([e-mail] email, 800-695-4005 voice)
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This message has been posted to a.s.c. by Alara Rogers
([e-mail]), but she is *not* the author. All comments, e-mail,
etc, should go to the author, Atara Stein at [e-mail]. (The line
breaks are Atara's fault!) :-)

"True Q" initially sets us up to perceive Q as the villain.  Amanda
herself is guaranteed to appeal to
her audience; she is pretty, extremely intelligent, talented, and likes
puppies.  Q comes charging
onto the scene with all the subtlety of a freight train, setting up an
initial test of Amanda's powers
that could have killed everyone on the ship--a warp core breach.  He gives
no indication that he
would have stepped in if she had failed.  He reveals his usual misanthropy
by describing the
human act of conception as "vulgar" and querying, with distaste, "What is
it about these squirming
little infants that you find so appealing?"  Amanda's initial reaction to
Q is revulsion; she wants
nothing to do with him and gets the viewers firmly on her side by
telekinetically hurling Q  across
the room.  Q then makes the mistake of setting himself up as the target
for Picard's dry wit.  Q
snaps, "She was being impetuous.  She'll just have to start behaving like
a Q" to which Picard
retorts, "If I'm not mistaken, she just did."  Touche!  Q is made to look
even worse when Amanda
begins to query him about what it means to be a Q:
Amanda:  And what do you do with this power?
Q:  Anything we want.
Amanda:  Do you use it to help others?
Q:  I think you've missed the point, my dear.  Clearly you've spent far
too much time with
humans.  As a Q, you can have your heart's desire, instantly, whatever
that may be.
Of course, that is precisely Q's appeal.  One of his fans remarks that she
likes Q "because he gets
to do all the stuff we can't."  Q is wish-fulfillment incarnate; who among
us wouldn't want to be
able to "have [our] heart's desire, instantly, whatever that may be"?  We
probably also suspect that
our initial impulse, were we granted this boon, would be to benefit
ourselves, not help others.
Once Amanda begins to learn the possibilities of her Q nature, she begins
to act in a
characteristically selfish and Q-like fashion.  She kidnaps Riker, who is
in the middle of a date,
transports him to a type of Victorian garden with a gazebo, and tries to
force him to fall in love
with her.  The scene is excruciatingly embarrassing as Amanda momentarily
commits the
equivalent of emotional rape, but quickly realizes her error.  Given
Amanda's initial negative
response to Q, her dismay that the Q do not use their powers for good, and
the painful lesson she
learns about misusing her powers herself, we have every expectation that
she will reject her Q
heritage and choose to remain human.

"True Q" also sets up an expectation that Picard's humanism will triumph
over Q's misanthropy.
Lambasting Q's self-designation as Amanda's "judge, and jury, and, if
necessary, executioner,"
and demanding what "by what right have you appointed yourself to this
position?" Picard is
infuriated at Q's calm reply of "Superior morality."  He then launches
into an impassioned speech
that would *seem* to embody the ethos of the Star Trek canon:
Your arrogant pretense at being the moral guardians of the universe
strikes me as being hollow, Q.
I see no evidence that you are guided by a superior moral code or any code
whatsoever.  You may
be nearly omnipotent, and I don't deny that your parlor tricks are very
impressive, but morality, I
don't see it!  I don't acknowledge it, Q!  I would put human morality
against the Q's any day.  And
perhaps that's the reason that we fascinate you so.  Because our puny
behavior shows you a
glimmer of the one thing that evades your omnipotence.  A moral center.
And if so I can think of
no crueler irony than that you should destroy this young woman, whose only
crime is that she's
too human.
Q, abashed by this display of rhetorical prowess, hangs his head and
offers to change his ways,
agreeing that the Q have much to learn from human morality.  Picard
triumphs once again.  Wrong!
This magnificent peroration, with its eloquent and ardent sincerity, a
discourse that could serve as
the rallying point for just about any oppressed group rising up against
their oppressors, Picard's
own Declaration of Independence against the Continuum, his "Civil
Disobedience," his "I Have a
Dream" speech, is immediately punctured and deflated by Q's cool remark,
"Jean-Luc, sometimes
I think the only reason I come here is to listen to these *wonderful*
speeches of yours."  In an
instant Picard has gone from being the eloquent defier of tyrannical and
immoral authority, to being
a pompous and inflated windbag.  And Q turns out to have a moral center
after all, as he offers
Amanda the choice between joining the Continuum or giving up her powers to
live as a human, a
decision he made *before* hearing Picard's apparently superfluous speech,
as he tells Picard
*immediately* afterward, "this time your concern is unwarranted.  We've
decided *not* to harm
her.  And we are prepared to offer her a choice."  But wait . . . , the
humanistic ethos that Picard
embodies might still be redeemed, Q might be humiliated in defeat . . .
*if* Amanda decides to
become fully human.  Wrong again!  Amanda cannot resist using her powers,
albeit as a force for
good as she takes action to save lives on the planet below.  She then
announces "I am Q," and
agrees to depart with her almost-assassin to join the Q Continuum, moral
center or lack thereof
notwithstanding.  Q wins this round.  He may be brutal, autocratic,
sadistic, and callous, but he
has compelled our allegiance.  Yes, John, you were "being Q-like" in
wanting to kill Amanda, but
that was the *other* Q you were thinking of.  We don't want to see Q kill
beautiful young women
(although, perversely enough, we find it sexy when he merely *threatens*
them); we want to see
him offer guidance and leadership, and, not incidentally, cut our noble
and inhumanly perfect
Captain down to size.  We want an all-powerful and all-knowing guide who
will allow us to feel
subversive by defying Picard's authority and that of the Continuum, but
who will assert dominion
over us in such a flamboyant, entertaining, irresistible, and enticing
manner that we don't notice
that he's deprived us of our human rights.

One thing is clear--"True Q" is a deeply flawed episode.  As Alara Rogers
points out, on the one
hand it is a coming-of-age story; Amanda's Q powers could represent
realizing her full adult
potential, and she has to learn to understand, to accept, and to manage
those powers wisely.  On
that basis alone, Q could have appeared as a kind of harsh mentor, who
gives his student a hard
time with the ultimate end of teaching her what she crucially needs to
learn.  On the other hand,
however, it is a story about Q as a potential assassin, an assassin who is
stalking a particularly
winsome, appealing victim.  Either one of those stories would have served
Star Trek's humanistic
ethos.  The coming-of-age story would have shown a young individual
discovering herself; the Q-
as-assassin story would have revealed the superiority of human morality,
as in Picard's speech.
But grafting those two stories on top of each other simply doesn't work.
What we're left with in
the final product is a young woman learning that her genetic heritage
consists of a species that
executed her parents and is considering executing her if she doesn't meet
their standards.  Instead
of rebelling against this tyranny and opting for her human side, Amanda
willingly joins the
Continuum, thereby implicitly condoning their actions in killing her
parents.  I'm sorry, but this is
weird.  Grafting these two stories together also makes a hash of Q's role.
 Is he a mentor (or as de
Lancie labels him, a "babysitter") or an assassin?  These are hardly
compatible roles.  My only
guess is that the creative staff added the assassin plot because they felt
the coming-of-age story
would not generate enough interest in itself (ST: TNG's producers seem
very wary of "human
interest" stories, such as "Family" and "Tapestry," which is unfortunate,
as those two are, IMHO,
two of the best TNG episodes ever precisely *because* of the level of
character development).
The audience wants to see Q, and they want to see Q behave in a
threatening manner *without
actually doing any real harm* (this is a typical pattern in Q fanfic,
particularly romance stories).
This is what they got in "True Q," but the end result is an episode which
utterly seems to contradict
the Roddenberry humanistic ethos.

Having put one feisty and independent woman in her place, Q moves on to
his next challenge, the
unscrupulous and mercenary archaelogist, Vash (Jennifer Hetrick).  After
having won her from
Picard at the end of "Qpid," presumably to make Picard jealous (of himself
or of *her*?), Q has
become separated from her in the Gamma Quadrant (they each claim to have
dumped the other),
and both turn up on Deep Space Nine.  De Lancie does get to inject some
malevolence into his
performance in "Q-Less," but once again Q turns out to be the good guy in
an asshole's disguise.
The episode contains two parallel plots which converge at the end, both of
which serve to set Q up
as the *apparent* villain.  One plot involves a mysterious and
life-threatening (of course) power
drain on the station that will eventually suck the entire station into the
wormhole to be torn apart if
it's not stopped in time.  The crew, naturally, thinks Q is responsible,
to which he takes offense.
Adopting the role of the wounded and misunderstood Romantic outlaw, he
laments:  "Oh, oh yes,
of course, go ahead, blame Q if it makes you feel any better.  I suppose
it's my fate to be the
galaxy's whipping boy.  Heavy is the burden of being me."  The other plot
is Q's bid to convince
Vash to resume their "partnership," "back together again, a team, joined
at the hip."  Although Q
vehemently protests being held responsible for the energy drain, he
remains the most likely
suspect.  O'Brien (Colm Meaney) remarks, "A blasted menace, is what he
is."  The crew is unable
to locate the source, and Q doesn't help with his taunts and jibes from
the sidelines.  It turns out,
however, that he is actually trying to guide Sisko and his crew to the
truth, but he is doing so with
his usual technique of indirection, the same technique he will use in "All
Good Things . . . ."  He
drops hints and makes sarcastic remarks, but expects us to do the rest.
Eventually he does provide
Sisko with some useful information:  "I'll tell you what's going on.
While you're here conducting
futile experiments, Vash is below engaged in base commerce and setting
Federation ethics back
200 years.  Believe me, gang, she's far more dangerous to you than I am."
And he's right.  The
power drain is being caused by an embryonic life form Vash brought back
from the Gamma
quadrant to auction off as a rare artifact.  When it looks as though the
crew is not going to discover
this in time, Q steps in to save the station, bidding a million bars of
gold-pressed latinum for the
life-form.  Just at that moment, however, Sisko and his crew transport the
life-form off the station,
and they watch it fly off into the wormhole.  Despite his apparently
callous demeanor ("I'm going
just to sit right here and watch.  I've never seen a space station torn
apart by a wormhole before"),
Q actually serves as a moral force.  He is disgusted by Vash and Quark's
(Armin Shimerman)
brand of capitalism, remarking, during the auction, "I hate to interrupt
such a thrilling display of
naked avarice, but I thought it was only right of me to warn you that this
station is hurtling toward
its doom, and it's very unlikely that any of you will survive to enjoy
your purchases.  I just
thought I'd mention it.  Please carry on."  He's equally disgusted with
Dr. Bashir's (Siddig El
Fadil) womanizing; Q interrupts Bashir's date with Vash, making him
irresistably sleepy, and
sending him to lie down with the comment "Hopefully by yourself for a
change."

Q initially seems even more threatening in his demeanor toward Vash in his
unsuccessful attempt to
convince her not to break off her relationship with him.  She stands up to
him, however.  When he
threatens, "You know you're going to miss me," she retorts, "Don't flatter
yourself."  Q offers to
take Vash on a "grand tour of the universe," but she demurs, insisting,
"It's over Q; I want you out
of my life.  You are arrogant, you're overbearing, and you think you know
everything."
Exhibiting his typical lack of interpersonal skills, he replies, "But I do
know everything," to which
Vash counters, "That makes it worse."  As he discovers, threats don't work
either; he snaps,
"Really Vash, this playing hard to get is growing tedious.  Let's not
forget that I'm the Q and you
the lowly human.  I'll decide when this partnership is over, understand?"
Q's demeanor toward
Vash is clearly coded as that of a potential rapist.  He pushes her onto a
bed and shows no
compunction about threatening and brutalizing her.  When she insists, "I
can take care of myself,"
he demands, "Do you remember that tiny little insect bite you had on
Erabus Prime?  If I hadn't
been there . . . " and ages her rapidly to the point of collapse to show
her the effects of that bite
before restoring her to her original state.  His m.o. is to remind her
repeatedly how helpless she is
without him, saying "The galaxy can be a dangerous place when you're on
you're own."  Vash
(unlike Picard, interestingly) never surrenders or submits or succumbs to
Q's temptations once she
has made up her mind to reject him.  But as "Tapestry" and "All Good
Things . . ." will
demonstrate, Picard is actually *better off* for surrendering, submitting,
and succumbing to Q.

The misogyny of "Q-Less"'s treatment of Vash is veiled by the *apparent*
feminism of her
declaration of independence from Q.  Yet, ultimately, it is Q who is given
sympathetic treatment by
the end of the episode.  While he does not succeed in reclaiming Vash, his
displays of his powers
make very clear that he could if he wanted to.  Thus, when he regretfully
opts to release her, he is
seen as all the more magnanimous.  He drops his macho posture and gains
the viewers' sympathy
by admitting his fallibility and pleading, "it's not going to be the same
without you.  When I look
at a gas nebula, all I see is a cloud of dust.  Seeing the universe
through your eyes I was able to
experience wonder.  I'm going to miss that."  The disadvantage of
omnipotence and immortality is
that Q can't help taking the wonders of the universe for granted; he
requires a human companion to
experience the perspective he misses.  Suddenly Q is sensitive and
vulnerable, and Vash seems
cold-hearted by comparison.  Although she acknowledges "in some ways I'm
going to miss you
too," she's already planning her next archaelogical expedition, this time
in partnership with Quark,
the embodiment of unfettered and unprincipled capitalism.  As Q's star
rises during the course of
"Q-Less," Vash's falls, and she is made to look worse and worse.  After
all we can't have
independent women roaming around the galaxy making a profit, can we?  Vash
prostitutes and
degrades herself to Quark, willingly performing oo-mox, a Ferengi
ear-rubbing sexual ritual, in
order to bargain him down, and her proficiency clearly indicates that this
is not the first time she
has done so.  Q's disgusted reaction, "How perfectly vile," is right on.
Vash accuses Q of being
"evil," of being willing to "kill all these people to get even with me,"
and he responds, "I must
admit the thought had occurred to me, but this station is in enough
trouble without me.  Although
I'd be glad to save you.  All you have to do is ask."  It turns out,
however, that Vash is ultimately
responsible for the life-threatening power drain.  She will violate any
ethical principle in her pursuit
of monetary gain.  Presumably, she thus "deserves" any abuse Q chooses to
inflict upon her.  In
both "True Q" and "Q-Less," Q's misogyny, callousness, and brutality are
ultimately irrelevant; he
represents pure power, and therein lies his appeal.  He doesn't have to
kill Amanda or rape Vash to
prove his point; it is enough that he could do so without any fear of
repercussions.  When Q allows
Amanda and Vash to choose their own fates, it is as if he is granting them
a *privilege*.  As far as
Q is concerned, humans have no unalienable *rights*.

IV
In his final two appearances, as in "True Q," de Lancie manages to portray
Q as wickedly
subversive and as tyrannically authoritarian at the same time, as Q claims
the viewers' allegiance by
repeatedly deflating Picard's pompous demeanor.  One fan remarks, that Q
"is one of the few
colorful characters in the tepid, almost soulless universe of the Next
Generation, he is painfully
real and makes life complicated in a supposedly orderly system."  Another
fan suggests "he livens
up their otherwise pathetic lives."  In his performances, de Lancie
engages the viewers into a type
of complicity with Q.  In his first two appearances, where he is clearly
the villain, Q is more often
the object of the viewers' laughter as he is defeated by Picard's liberal
and humanistic
demonstrations of his species' progress.  In Q's later appearances,
however, the audience laughs
*at* him less and *with* him more.  De Lancie seems to offer a challenge
to his audience, as if to
say, "Look, I'm going to make very clear to you that this guy is arrogant,
egotistical, tyrannical,
and sadistic, but at the same time, I'm going to make you like him, and
you're not going to be able
to help taking his side."  Thus, when Q sadistically teases and humiliates
Picard, the viewers share
in Q's derision, rather than condemning him as a bully.  Q skewers Picard
mercilessly in
"Tapestry" and "All Good Things . . . ."  Although Picard manages to get
in a few zingers in
"Tapestry," they don't hit the mark.  Picard mocks Q, saying, "I refuse to
believe the afterlife is
run by you.  The universe is *not* so badly designed," but as events play
out, it becomes patently
obvious that Picard's afterlife *is* run by Q, that Q "can take [his] life
and give back to [him] again
with a snap of a finger."  Q's sarcasm is much more accurate.  When Picard
worries that changing
his own past will irrevocably alter history, Q lands a devastatingly
precise blow:  "Please!  Spare
me your egotistical musings on your pivotal role in history.  Nothing you
do here will cause the
Federation to collapse or galaxies to explode.  To be blunt, *you're not
that important*."  Later,
after Picard relates the events that led up to his being stabbed in the
heart, Q remarks, with a
mocking catch in his voice, "That's a beautiful story.  Gets you right
here, doesn't it?" as he points
to his heart.  In "All Good Things . . . ," during the earlier courtroom
scene, Picard demands
information from Q, who taunts him, "Oh, you'd like me to connect the dots
for you, lead you
from A to B to C, so that your *puny* mind could comprehend.  How
*boring*."  The jeering
spectators in the courtroom become a stand-in for the viewers as they both
laugh at Picard's
obtuseness and discomfiture while relishing Q's clear intellectual
superiority and command of the
situation.  The two episodes I've cited are ones in which Q is clearly
operating on Picard's behalf.
The viewers are thus drawn into a type of sadistic vicarious
identification with an all-powerful and
cruel, but charismatic, authority figure.  They enjoy Q's triumphs over
Picard because de Lancie
has made the character impossible to dislike and because they have been
convinced that Q actually
knows better than the Captain and thus deserves to be obeyed.  Alara
Rogers prefers to perceive Q
as a "charismatic, strong-willed" teacher, rather than a leader, the type
of teacher she describes as
"the devil's advocates who argue with all your points, the ones who use
public humiliation and
other 'terror techniques' to get their way, then privately melt you with a
word or two of praise."
This is an accurate description of Q's demeanor toward Picard in
"Tapestry" and especially "All
Good Things . . . ," but I don't think the roles of leader and teacher are
mutually exclusive.  In
either case, as I will argue below, I don't believe Q's motivations are
those of a typical teacher.  Q
provides Picard with both leadership and an education because doing so
suits his own particular
agenda.

Fans, on the whole, seem untroubled by Picard's ineptitude in his
encounters with Q, noting either
that the tests are rigged, that Q doesn't provide sufficient information,
or that Picard is doing the
best he can given that he is dealing with a much more powerful and
advanced being.  As Chris
Davies notes, "considering that he's dealing with something that could
turn his internal organs to
jello, I think he does fairly well."  Irene Gawel speculates that Q is "a
baby demigod," and Picard's
inability to handle him stems from his "dislike of children."  Similarly,
N. K. Berg comments,
"It's not really Picard's fault.  Q is like an unruly adolescent with way
too much power to do what
he wants to do."  On the surface, these explanations make perfect sense,
yet one of the things that
distinguishes starship Captains (at least the ones who anchor Star Trek
series) is their ability to
solve apparently unsurmountable problems, to overcome apparently
impossible odds with their
quick thinking, resourcefulness, and decisiveness.  Often it is not only
action on the Captain's part
that saves the day, but also his or her humanitarianism and/or diplomatic
ability that disarms an
apparently overwhelming enemy.  Picard, like his colleagues Kirk, Sisko,
and Janeway, does this
kind of thing all the time--*except* when he encounters Q.  And he
overcomes Q as well in
"Encounter at Farpoint" and "Hide and Q."  From then on, however, he is
clearly out of his
league.  Although in "Best of Both Worlds," Part 2, Picard defeats the
Borg both through his
strength of will and presence of mind, in "Q Who," he is completely
helpless.  Although Picard
and his crew have solved any number of apparently unsolvable technological
difficulties, they are
unable to make any real progress with the Bre'el moon in "Deja Q."  The
potentially workable
solutions result from Q's superior knowledge and the suggestions he offers
La Forge and Data,
and it is Q who ultimately restores the moon's orbit.   Although Picard
has dealt with any number
of temporal anomalies successfully, as Alara Rogers reminds me, in "All
Good Things . . . ," he
clearly required Q's assistance.  Starship Captains typically either
defeat or win over "superior"
beings with their intelligence and humanistic morality; that Q so
consistently either tricks Picard or
provides him with assistance he can't do without seems to me an
uncharacteristic violation of Star
Trek's usual vision of human progress and ability.  The Captain, after
all, is simultaneously the
representative of the human species and a superior human being, the
embodiment of human
evolution and potential.  While he may be vulnerable to overwhelming
physical and psychological
pressure, as in "Best of Both Worlds" and "Chain of Command" (where Picard
is tortured by a
Cardassian inquisitor), the types of head games Q plays with Picard, *if Q
were a typical
antagonist*, really shouldn't transcend Picard's intellectual, moral, and
diplomatic ability.

But Q is not a typical antagonist; he is extremely funny, dynamic, and
popular with fans, and part
of his popularity results from his ability to knock the inhumanly perfect
(most of the time) Picard
off his pedestal.  It is as if the writers can't help giving Q the upper
hand, even though doing so
contradicts Star Trek's usual humanistic message.  This actually points to
a much larger conflict
within the Star Trek series.  The Roddenberry vision of human progress
keeps coming in conflict
with the necessity for drama and action that fans want in a science
fiction series.  The solution has
been to create consistently powerful opponents, opponents whose
bloodthirstiness and
ruthlessness repeatedly remind us of human moral superiority.  Yet, these
opponents keep being
softened and humanized.  Like Q, the Klingons, the Ferengi, the
Cardassians, and the Borg all
become more and more "human."  The Klingons become part of the Federation,
and even the
"bad" Klingons, Lursa and B'Etor, are mostly there for comic effect in
Generations; the Ferengi
Quark is portrayed sympathetically and with glimmerings of a sense of
honor; we see the
Cardassians' family lives on Deep Space Nine; and we have Hugh and his
comrades ("Descent") to
show us that even the Borg hold the potential for good--given sufficient
human influence.  What's
interesting is that these opponents become less threatening and less
powerful as they become more
human; even if they do not become Federation allies, we see moments of
genuine cooperation,
communication, and understanding between sworn enemies.  Q, by contrast,
retains all of his
power and misanthropy in "All Good Things . . . ."  He is humanized and
made more appealing,
but he still holds the edge over Picard.  In short, while Picard and his
crew eventually humanize
their worst enemies, Q's function is to humanize *Picard*, as Christine M.
Faltz explains:
"Picard's ineptitude around Q is the result of our fine captain
recognizing his limits.  Regardless of
his knowledge (as seen in his discussion with Wesley in the shuttle on
their way to getting Picard's
new artificial heart) that he is capable of being a bit too arrogant, he
is a man who likes to believe
himself strong, invulnerable, and able to cope with any situation.  When
he is confronted with a
god--who appears as a man--he feels belittled, scrutinized--and we also
know that Picard tries to
keep a lot of his more potent emotions inside--this is impossible around
Q, because Q can read the
real Picard, and Picard can hide nothing from him."  Q gets under Picard's
skin for precisely this
reason; he exposes Picard to his own vulnerabilities, forces him to face
what he'd rather keep
buried.  And it is this particular function that distinguishes Q from
Picard's other antagonists and
seems to force the writers to keep giving Q the upper hand.  The only
other character who so
consistently seems to get under Picard's skin in a surprisingly similar
way is Lwaxana Troi, who,
like Q, tries to undermine Picard's repressed exterior, but he usually
manages to find a way to put
her in her place.  This is not the case with Q.



***********************************************************
Atara Stein

Picard to Q:  "To learn about you is frankly provocative, but you're next
of kin to chaos."


Path: tivoli.tivoli.com!geraldo.cc.utexas.edu!cs.utexas.edu!news.sprintlink.net!uunet!news.delphi.com!usenet
From: Alara Rogers <[e-mail]>
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: Q Rules! (An Unauthorized History) 4/6
Date: Tue, 28 Mar 95 23:06:03 -0500
Organization: Delphi ([e-mail] email, 800-695-4005 voice)
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Xref: tivoli.tivoli.com alt.startrek.creative:7445

This message has been posted to a.s.c. by Alara Rogers
([e-mail]), but she is *not* the author. All comments, e-mail,
etc, should go to the author, Atara Stein at [e-mail]. (The line
breaks are Atara's fault!) :-)


In "Tapestry" and "All Good Things . . . ," Q has clearly evolved into a
leadership role in
providing guidance to Picard, who is particularly fallible in both
episodes.  While he continues to
insist on asserting his dominance over Picard, in his later appearances, Q
operates more from a
compassionate standpoint.  He still toys with his victim, but he does so
with at least partially
benevolent intentions.  In "Tapestry," he cannot simply restore his
beloved Picard to existence after
he has been mortally wounded.  He appears as the ultimate authority
figure, intending to make the
most of this opportunity:
Q:  You're dead.  This is the afterlife.  And I'm *God*.
Picard:  You are *not* God!
Q:  Blasphemy!  You're lucky I don't cast you out or smite you or
something.
Q has come a long way from his Satanic role in "Hide and Q" and "Q Who."
At the end of the
episode, Picard is deeply grateful for Q's intervention.  Although his
intentions are benevolent, his
methods, however, are not.  Q psychologically tortures Picard by calling
up an image of his
unforgiving dead father, who berates him about what a disappointment he
is.  Q then barrages
Picard with the voices of all the "people who died through your actions or
inactions."  Having
instilled his victim with a walloping guilt complex, Q then moves in for
the kill, replaying for
Picard the fight in which he was stabbed in the heart.  Oppressed with
guilt and shame, Picard
takes Q's bait, expressing a vehement regret for his youthful behavior,
behavior that seems on the
surface to contradict and undermine his disciplined, reserved, and
self-denying self-image.  In an
apparent act of mercy, Q grants Picard an opportunity to relive his own
past differently, the idea
being that if he avoids the fight in which he was stabbed in the heart, he
can avoid getting the
artificial heart which kills him years later.  Despite his romantic
attraction to Picard, Q cannot
simply revive the Captain after he is mortally wounded.  He cannot resist
adopting the authoritarian
mode of an Old-Testament God (complete with white robes) and putting
Picard through an
elaborate test he is guaranteed to fail.  At the beginning of the episode,
Q clearly *wants* Picard to
make the wrong choice.  For all of his genuine concern for Picard's peace
of mind, he intends to
savor his triumph over Picard.  Thus, when Q asks him, "So, if you had to
do it all over again,"
and Picard replies, "Things would be different," Q smiles knowingly, as if
to say "Gotcha!"  As
soon as Picard acknowleges a desire to change his past self, he has walked
right into Q's trap and
slammed the door behind himself.

What is particularly significant is the type of trap Picard so willingly
walks into.  Q lures Picard
into violating one of his most cherished principles, the sanctity of the
time line.  Although Picard
initially refuses to "alter history," he allows himself to be persuaded by
Q's assurances:  "I will
give you my personal guarantee that nothing you do here will end up
hurting anyone or have an
adverse effect on what you know of as history.  The only thing at stake
here is *your* life and
your peace of mind.  Now, whether you believe me or not, you are *here*,
and you have a second
chance.  What you choose to do with it is entirely up to you."  Oh,
Picard, beware of gods bearing
gifts; there's almost always a catch.  Q even gives Picard a way out; he
says "What you choose to
do with it is entirely up to you."  Had Picard been possessed of his usual
common sense, he would
have relived events precisely as they originally occurred, accepted that
he would die on the
operating table, and dealt with the consequences.  After all, in "Hide and
Q," he opined that it was
better that Riker allowed the child on the planet below to die, even
though he had the power to
restore her.  Had Picard been a bit wiser than that, he might have
intuited that Q would restore him
no matter what he did.  But somehow, when Q appears, Picard's
intelligence, competence, and
incisiveness seem to go on vacation:
Q:  If you can avoid getting stabbed through the heart *this* time, which
I *doubt*, I will take you
back to what you think of as the present, and you will go on with your
life with a *real* heart.
Picard:  Then I won't die?
Q:  Of course you'll die!  It will just be at a later time.
Picard can't even grasp the obvious, much less the subtleties of the
lesson Q is trying to teach him.
Q's earlier comment, "Death has made you a little dim, Jean-Luc,"
certainly seems to apply.  I
don't know if Ron Moore had "Hide and Q" consciously in mind or not when
writing this episode,
but, in falling for Q's offer of a *real* heart (where's the Tin Man when
you need him?), Picard
accepts *precisely* the type of bargain his officers *rejected* in that
final scene with Riker.
Geordi La Forge (Levar Burton) turns down Riker's offer of restored
vision, as tempting as it is to
him (he is in awe of how "beautiful" his crewmates are) because he doesn't
trust the source of the
gift.  Data rejects being made human, saying, "I never wanted to compound
one illusion with
another."  In "Hide and Q," Picard achieves his victory because he
anticipated his officers'
reactions so precisely, but in "Tapestry," Picard screws up.  Utterly.
And Q achieves the same
kind of victory over him that Picard achieved in "Hide and Q."  Q knows
exactly how Picard will
react and lays his traps accordingly.

Picard's attempt to rewrite his former self is doomed from the start, and
he basically comes across
as a dweeb.  He is embarrassingly awkward and inarticulate in the scene
with one of his former
flames, Penny Muroc, who ends up tossing a drink in his face, and his
embarrassment is
compounded by Q's mocking presence.  Before this scene Picard had been
boasting to Q about his
amorous exploits, receiving the tribute, "I had no idea you were such a
cad.  I'm impressed."
Picard, naturally, must demonstrate to his arch-nemesis that he is a real
man, but he fails
miserably, and he is further humiliated by Q's sarcastic comment, as he
tosses Picard a towel to
wipe his face, "You never told me you were such a ladies' man."   He
alienates his best friend,
Cortin Zweller, by refusing to back him up in his dispute with the
Nausicaans, and makes a
complete fool of Corey and himself by knocking his own friend over to
avoid the fight.  Even
though his altered personality appeals to his formerly Platonic friend,
Marta Batanides, and they
end up in bed, she experiences some serious morning-after regrets, and
Picard parts from both
friends bitterly.  He does succeed in avoiding being stabbed, but it is a
painfully hollow victory.

Q is true to his word, in his own fashion, returning Picard to an
*alternative* present, where he
serves aboard the Enterprise, not as Captain, but as a dull, plodding
junior lieutenant of
astrophysics.  Stewart demonstrates his remarkable versatility as an
actor, skillfully showing us a
diminished, hesitant, and utterly emasculated Picard, the equivalent of de
Lancie's impotent and
disempowered Q in "Deja Q."  His job essentially seems to consist of
errand running, and in an
excruciatingly embarrassing scene, he sits down with Riker and Troi in
Ten-Forward, to determine
if he has any prospects for career advancement.  The most complimentary
adjectives they can find
to describe him are "reliable" and "punctual."  Later, alone in a
turbolift, Picard wearily demands,
"Are you having a good laugh now, Q?  Does it amuse you to think of me
living out the rest of my
life as dreary man in a tedious job?" and the doors open to reveal Q in
his white robes again,
saying, "I gave you something most mortals never experience.  A second
chance at life.  And now
all you can do is *complain*."  Q then proceeds to lecture Picard about
the significance of the
lesson he has taught him:
The Jean-Luc Picard *you* wanted to be, the one who did *not* fight the
Nausicaan, had quite a
different career from the one you remember.  That Picard never had a brush
with death, never came
face to face with his own mortality, never realized how fragile life is or
how important each
moment must be.  So his life never came into focus.  He drifted through
much of his career with
no plan or agenda, going from one assignment to the next, never seizing
the opportunities that
presented themselves. . . .  And no one *ever* offered him a command.  He
learned to play it safe,
and he never ever got noticed by anyone.
One might well wonder what an immortal, omnipotent entity, playing the
role of God, is doing
rhapsodizing about facing mortality, the fragility of life, and the
importance of each moment.  It is
as if in coming to comprehend the ambition and drive that made Picard a
starship captain and that
propels humans through the galaxy, he realizes that humans have valuable
qualities of character
that he himself lacks.  Now we have an immortal and omnipotent being
championing human life
and human values despite his simultaneous frustration at their lack of
perspicacity.  The irony is
that the omnipotent superbeing is teaching a human being to become more
human.  Picard is often
presented as perceiving himself as flawless, not wishing to acknowledge
his own human
limitations.  That is one reason why viewers take such delight in Q's
puncturing of Picard's
pomposity.  One of the lessons of the series, particularly in the Q
episodes, is that humans are
worthy because of their mortality and their limitations; in striving to
overcome them and to expand
their knowledge and in the ambition and drive those limitations provoke,
they, unlike Q, have the
capacity to make the most of each moment.

That is the lesson Q teaches Picard, who, in dismissing the flaws of his
younger self, failed to
realize the way those flaws and even the experience of being stabbed in
the heart made him the
person he is.  A flawless Picard would be a passionless junior officer
with no imagination;
whereas a flawed Picard contains the seeds of his future greatness.  For
all of his authoritarian
bluster, what Q teaches Picard is to have fun.  As he tells him in the
scene in the Bonestell
Recreation Facility, "Looks like your friends know how to have fun.  You
should take lessons."
Q gives Picard the opportunity to let down his hair (so to speak), to be
self-indulgent in a way he
would never allow himself.  After having asked to be allowed to "put
things back the way they
were before," even if it kills him, and reliving the fight with the
Nausicaans a second time, Picard
is clearly enjoying every moment.  When the Nausicaan calls him a coward
for the second time,
Picard says "I thought that's what you said," in a voice filled with
satisfaction, and he gets to
indulge in some James T. Kirk-style hand-to-hand fighting and does so with
relish.  His delighted
laughter at being stabbed in the heart and his continuing laughter as he
awakes in sick bay testify to
how salutory this experience has been for him.  And Q attains yet another
triumph.  At the same
time, he confers a real benefit upon Picard, although practicing a kind of
guerrilla psychotherapy.
Q fan Sonja accurately notes that, "Q shows Picard truths about Picard,
that Picard would often not
be reminded of, that he denies to himself, but that he knows deep down are
true."  When Riker,
reflecting on Picard's experience, says, "It sounds like he put you
through hell," Picard insists,
instead, that he owes Q "a debt of gratitude" for his "compassion" in
helping him become
reconciled to his own past.  And Riker further confirms the validity of
Q's lesson with his overt
admiration of Picard's youthful recklessness, saying, "I wish I'd had the
chance to know *that*
Jean-Luc Picard."

In his fascination with individual humans (particularly Picard) and his
desire to render them
assistance, Q violates the spirit of the institutional authority of the Q
Continuum who have
imperialistically designated themselves as the judges of humankind's
evolution.  In the series
finale, "All Good Things . . . ," Q's superiors set up an elaborate test
of Picard's ability to expand
his mind and figure out an elaborate time-travel paradox; if he fails he
will cause humankind to be
"denied existence."  Despite Picard's ultimate success, they continue to
appoint themselves both
judge and jury; as Q explains, "You just don't get it, do you, Jean-Luc?
The trial never ends."
The members of the Q Continuum are described much like a faceless,
impersonal bureaucracy, and
it was their *collective* decision to put humankind on trial in the series
pilot and finale, to execute
Amanda's parents for leaving the fold (and to consider executing her), and
to strip Q himself
(temporarily) of his powers.  While Q must act as their representative, as
he assimilates more
human values, he acts as much as possible on his own, particularly in the
assistance he renders
Picard in the ultimate test in "All Good Things . . . ."  Like a parent
who will not define a word for
his child, but tells him to look it up in the dictionary, Q will not give
Picard the answers, but he
does provide indispensable hints, without which Picard would not have
succeeded in saving
humankind from destruction.

Q initially appears in his most malevolent mode, reprising his role as the
judge in the 21st century
atomic court of horrors from "Encounter at Farpoint."  He is at his most
sadistic and autocratic, but
this time he is the hero, not the villain, providing Picard with
leadership he desperately needs.  Q
viciously lays into Picard, laughing derisively at Picard's inept attempts
to solve the puzzle.  When
Picard (understandably) asks, "Did you create the anomaly?" Q responds,
with a malicious laugh,
"No no no.  You're going to be so surprised when you realize where it came
from," then adds in a
much harder tone, "If you ever figure it out."  Q's misanthropy is in full
force, as he taunts Picard,
"You're such a limited creature--perfect example of why we made our
decision.  The trial never
ended, Captain.  We never reached a verdict.  But now we have.  You're
guilty."  Q is completely
in control, and Picard's humanism will not help him here:
Picard:  We've journeyed to countless new worlds, we've contacted new
species, we have
expanded our understanding of the universe.
Q:  In your own paltry limited way.  You have no idea how far you still
have to go.  But instead of
using the last 7 years to change and to grow, you have squandered them.
Picard:  We are what we are, and we're doing the best we can.  It is not
for you to set the standards
by which we should be judged.
Q:  Oh, but it is, and we have.  Time may be eternal, Captain, but our
patience is not.  It's time to
put an end to your trek through the stars, make room for other, more
worthy species.
Picard:  You're going to deny us travel through space?
Q:  You obtuse piece of *flotsam*!  You are to be denied *existence*!
We seem to be in the same situation as "Encounter at Farpoint," where
Picard the humanist
defeated Q the misanthrope, except that it turns out that Q is really on
Picard's side.  Picard
murmurs, "Q, I do not believe even you are capable of such an act," but as
in "Q-Less," Q is
incensed at the accusation:  "I?  There you go again always blaming me for
everything.  Well, this
time I'm not your enemy, I'm not the one who causes the annihilation of
mankind.  You are."
Picard is so clueless that it is patently obvious he requires Q's
assistance.  His disorientation as he
shifts time periods and the effects of the Irumodic Syndrome on his future
self make Picard appear
unduly helpless.  He seems foolish calling a red alert during one of his
past incarnations, reacting
to the taunting spectators no one else can see, and his future self is
uncharacteristically emotional
and quick-tempered.  Through most of "All Good Things . . . ," Picard
seems genuinely out of
control, and when he finally figures out the solution, after Q gives him a
huge hint by taking him
back to the beginnings of life on Earth, his future self is both
hysterical and inarticulate as he tries
to explain his discovery to Riker and the others, as he rants
incomprehensibly about the chicken
and the egg.  Q, meanwhile, remains apparently callous; as the past and
present Enterprise blow up
and the future Enterprise is about to go, he taunts, "Good bye, Jean-Luc.
I'm going to miss you.
You had such potential.  But then all good things must come to an end."

The one thing Picard really does understand, however, is that Q was on his
side all along; he reacts
with gratitude to Q's benevolently intended if autocratically administered
guidance:
Picard:  Thank *you*.
Q:  For what?
Picard:  You had a hand helping me get out of this.
Q:  I was the one that got you into it.  A directive from the Continuum.
The part about the helping
hand, though, was my idea.
They achieve a moment of genuine communion, communication, and
understanding here, and Q's
tone of voice is uncharacteristically gentle.  De Lancie, himself, saw the
significance of his final
scene with Picard as revealing that "Q has a vested interest in this man
making it."  Describing the
attitude he wanted to project, he commented, "I have become interested
enough and attached
enough to his struggle that I'm willing, even though I'm compelled to play
the game dictated to me
by my higher ups . . . I'm willing to give him clues."  Q defines his role
as helping humankind
realize their full evolutionary potential, telling Picard, "For that one
fraction of a second you were
open to options you had never considered; that is the exploration that
awaits you.  Not mapping
stars and studying nebula but charting the unknown possibilities of
existence."  He apparently has,
as he said to Guinan in "Deja Q," gone into missionary work.  Descibing
the exchange between Q
and Picard, Alara Rogers comments, "No longer the sadist playing with
humanity, Q now shows
himself to be the teacher, pushing his students harshly with a difficult
test, giving them just enough
help that they can solve it themselves, secretly convinced that they *can*
match up to his
expectations."  This is an insightful description of Q's demeanor in his
final scene, but I would
modify it by substituting singular nouns and pronouns for plural ones.
There is only *one*
student taking the test Q has administered--Picard.  None of his crew
members has any recollection
of the experience beyond what he later tells them, so it is clear that the
test in "All Good Things . .
. " was aimed solely at Picard.

Like so many popular culture heroes, Q defines his own moral code,
independent of institutional
authority.  Several fans see him as transcending moral categories, but
Alexander Verkooijen
provides the most detailed explanation of this attitude:  "The universe
isn't like that.  There are no
'good' and 'bad' guys.  I personally think that's why Q is on the show.
On one side you have all
those Federation boys who think they know EXACTLY what is right and what
is wrong.  And the
other side you have Q who is a 'bad' guy (But only to Federation
standards), but he shows that
things like 'good' and 'bad' are just personal concepts."  Q's appeal to
his audience lies in his
simultaneously godlike and irreverent pose.  As Brett Burkholder describes
Q, "He's a demi-god
who also happens to be a jerk."  He has the power to solve all of his
proteges' problems, yet at the
same time he subverts both Picard's authority and that of the Continuum.
He is the heroic
individual who takes the law in his own hands (even suspending the laws of
nature when it suits
his purposes).  He intercedes between the humans he wishes to protect and
the impersonal
bureaucracy which oppresses them, and he is seen as an ultimately
beneficial force to humans
despite his imperious demeanor and brutal methods.  Ramji Venkateswaran,
for instance, describes
him as "a cynic with a heart of gold."  Q is the heroic leader/guardian
angel who, despite his
exasperation at his proteges' ineptitude, defends them against the evils
of institutional authority (in
"All Good Things . . . "), their own greed (in "Q-Less") and their own
self-doubt (in "Tapestry").

He is ultimately a kind of benevolent despot, and many of his fans view
him in precisely that light.
Annie Hamilton argues that Q "is obviously not malevolent, but he does his
best to appear so upon
occasion, and anyone who is pretending to be something worse than they
really are wants to tell
you something very important."  Brian Blovett suggests that Q is "the god
figure on the show . . .
.  He observes, tests, antagonizes, and, on occasion, helps the other
characters."  Roberto Castillo
describes him as "a twisted guardian angel, teaching, testing, and when he
feels like having some
fun torturing."  Jacob Huebert comments, "What [Q] does is almost always
in the best interests of
humanity" and "I think he's a 'guide' of sorts.  I think he truly cares
for them, as is strongly
suggested in 'All Good Things.'  He wants them to realize their full
potential."  Tim Crall also
believes that Q acts in a way "not inconsistent with the good of humanity
and the crew" because
"he is fascinated by the humans, Picard particularly, and has a soft spot
for them, no matter what
he might have you believe."  Another fan insists that Q "has good
intentions toward 'mankind,'"
explaining that he is "a being that brings another point of perspective to
the limited visions of man .
. . to introduce new ideas, new concepts, new phenomena."  Providing a New
Age perspective,
Philip Brautigam declares, "For each of us to be Q, is our cosmic destiny.
 As we become masters
of ourselves, we will start to have a clue as to the true functioning of
this universe.  With this
realization we can do, create, be anything!"  Robert Langston explains, "I
think that overall, Q was
my favorite charcter in TNG for just that reason . . . that he'd push you
(or the character) to think
of life and the universe in different ways . . . not just the 'stodgy old
way,' but in respect to the
possibilities of things."  Chris Davies describes Q as a "Guide,"
explaining, "He sends the
Enterprise crew itno danger countless times, testing their mettle, their
'humanness' as it were,
because it is when they are tested to their limits that their sterling
qualities emerge the most."

Other fans take this idea of testing even farther, however, suggesting
that Q's function is to
puncture humanity's self-image, to show them their limitations, rather
than, as Davies suggests,
bring out their strengths.  Lou Chapman says, "Q's function is to 'test'
the Enterprise crew and to
show them that the human race is not the best thing since the big bang and
they still have an infinity
of places to 'boldly go where no man has gone before'!!!"  Johan Wevers
notes that Q "puts the
attention on the weak spots of humanity and he does it well."  Alexander
Verkooijen says, "Q
shows that our human standards are not the only ones.  They might even be
wrong.  In fact they
probably are wrong."  Given the humanitarian basis of the entire Star Trek
canon, I find it
fascinating that so many of TNG's fans reject it in this fashion; Q
appeals to these fans precisely in
his irreverent questioning of the humanism Picard embodies.  The
implication is that even the
heroic and resourceful Jean-Luc Picard requires the guidance of a more
powerful and
knowledgeable authority figure.  Ronald D. Moore, writer of "Tapestry" and
co-writer of "All
Good Things . . .," defines Q's role as specifically to test Picard, while
also noting how Q serves
to puncture Picard's demeanor, to bring him down to a more human level.
William Renaud
explains, "I think the human race is on the verge of surpassing the mortal
coil and Q is here to find
out whether or not we're worthy. . . .  He is there to assess humanities
claim of being the species
best suited to achieve the next level of sentience."  Such an attitude, of
course, presumes that Q is
*entitled* to evaluate humans' worthiness!  Surprisingly, given the usual
humanistic ethos of Star
Trek, the series' creators seem to think so.  In their development of a
hero for a contemporary
audience that craves powerful leaders, Q's creators seem to suggest that
people are actually better
off submitting to the despotic and arbitrary authority of a powerful
individual and that the elaborate
tests Q designs, however rigged they are, are somehow beneficial to his
"subjects."  As a leader, Q
proves extremely tempting; the pure power that he wields offers the
promise of solving all our
problems for us . . . as long as we submit to his authority.  He has no
respect for humans' civil
rights or democratic traditions; like any imperialist he feels entitled to
impose his dominion on an
inferior species.  He wins us over completely, however, with his wicked
and subversive sense of
humor, with his charisma, and with his promise to cut through the crap and
get right to the truth.
We excuse his brutality because, after all, he has good intentions and
he's right.  One fan states
simply, "He uses whatever means to get the message across."  Another
casually remarks, "If he
has to rough you up a little to get you to see the light, so be it."
Might apparently makes right; in
response to a question about Q's disregard of the Prime Directive and his
feeling entitled to
interfere with inferior species, Tim Crall retorts, "Are YOU going to tell
him he's not entitled?"



***********************************************************
Atara Stein

Picard to Q:  "To learn about you is frankly provocative, but you're next
of kin to chaos."


Path: tivoli.tivoli.com!geraldo.cc.utexas.edu!cs.utexas.edu!news.sprintlink.net!uunet!news.delphi.com!usenet
From: Alara Rogers <[e-mail]>
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: Q Rules! (An Unauthorized History) 5/6
Date: Tue, 28 Mar 95 23:06:22 -0500
Organization: Delphi ([e-mail] email, 800-695-4005 voice)
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This message has been posted to a.s.c. by Alara Rogers
([e-mail]), but she is *not* the author. All comments, e-mail,
etc, should go to the author, Atara Stein at [e-mail]. (The line
breaks are Atara's fault!) :-)


Q is the galactic equivalent of the outsider political candidate who
promises to eliminate crime,
clean up Congress, and restore our nation to peace and harmony as long as
we agree to surrender
our Constitutional guarantees and civil liberties.  Would we make that
bargain?  In "Tapestry" and
"All Good Things . . . ," Picard does.  Boasting about his youthful
exploits to Riker at the end of
"Tapestry," and joining his officers for a game of poker in "All Good
Things . . . ," Picard seems
confident that order and harmony have been restored and that he himself
has benefitted from Q's
harsh, but well-intentioned, interference.  What of Q's next appearance,
however?  After all, "the
trial never ends."  Alara Rogers asks, "what right do they have to make
our entire species' *lives*
predicated on the actions of one man?  The Continuum seems to have a
really bad habit of making
single individual humans answer for the crimes and concerns of all
humanity."  Humans remain
the colonial subjects of the Q Continuum; despite its utter disregard of
Star Trek's most sacred
precept, the Prime Directive, we have not yet shaken off our colonial
masters and declared our
independence.  On the whole, Q's fans are not troubled by this; in
response to a question about Q's
disregard of the Prime Directive, most of the fans surveyed responded that
Q isn't bound by
Federation rules.  Brian Blovett accurately summarizes Q's attitude:  "He
just plain doesn't give a
shit about the Prime Directive (omnipotence will do that to you)."  Sonja
provides a representative
comment:  "You can't judge an alien species by the Federation's rules.
And there are many
Federation citizens that don't themselves believe in the Prime Directive."
 Lou Chapman asserts,
"The Prime Directive is for Feddies only.  With power like Q's, there's no
need for rules and
regulations."  Another fan describes the function of the Prime Directive
as "to cover the asses of
the Federation."  Johan Wevers bluntly states, "I find the prime directive
stupid anyway, and the Q
continuum seems not to have such a thing."  Alexander Verkooijen similarly
declares, "The PD is a
stupid thing."  The Prime Directive is, however, central to Star Trek's
vision; it is the idea that
more advanced species do not have the right to interfere, in an
imperialistic fashion, with the
development of less-advanced species, yet this type of interference is
precisely Q's MO, and his
fans seem to feel that he is entitled to interfere with an "inferior"
species as he does because he
knows better.  No doubt the Europeans who colonized Africa felt the same
way.

While my own interpretation of Q's role is overtly political, as I see Q's
methods as precisely those
of a well-intentioned but totaltitarian and imperialistic dictator, Q also
can be seen as a teacher who
views Picard, as Josh "Borg" Burroughs notes, "as an advanced student."
Sybil Grieco suggests,
"He points out the foolishness of humanity, trying to make us grow and
evolve."  And Sonja says,
"Q's mischief though, usually has a point to it.  He's teaching humanity
about itself, sometimes
pretty painfully."  Kathryn Anderson describes Q as a teacher who has
"more important things to
do than be popular.  Like teach people who don't want to be taught."  I
don't really buy this
argument though, as I hope to make clear.  As a teacher myself, I can
hardly approve of his
methods or motivations, but in the interests of fairness, I will briefly
consider the other side.
Annie Hamilton, a Q fan in Australia, is writing a series of articles
entitled "Q:  More Maligned
than Malignant" published in the fanzine, Quisine.  I have read the first
three, covering Q's first
three appearances.  Hamilton argues, "He's a teacher. An old-fashioned,
crusty, overbearing
pedagogue in the grand manner, willing to be hated for the sake of
imparting the lesson more
effectively.  He has my deepest sympathy, because he's saddled with an
entire class of naive,
sheltered adolescents who don't for a moment suspect that there's a big,
nasty universe out there"
(Quisine #1).  Describing Q's pedagogical methods, Hamilton states,
"Pretend dictators bluff
outrageously and frequently have no intention of carrying through their
threats.  On the other hand,
they don't make threats that they aren't ultimately prepared to carry out"
(Quisine #2).  Yes, Q does
in fact bluff, without ever directly causing permanent damage.  And yes,
Picard and his crew in the
Q episodes reveal that they have a good deal to learn, although it is not
always what Q intends.  I
like Janet Coleman's comment that Q "doesn't like being a good guy . . .
or at least is embarrassed
by it--but can't help it."  My principal dispute with Hamilton's
characterization of Q as a teacher is
that I simply don't believe he *ever* demonstrates a genuine concern for
the human species, for
Picard, yes, a narcissistic concern that I will discuss below, but not for
Picard's species as a
whole.  The lesson learned is always a byproduct of Q's real intentions;
to paraphrase Picard in
"QWho," Q does the right things for the wrong reasons.  Q is either
obeying the orders of his
superiors (enthusiastically and brutally in "Farpoint" and "Hide and Q,"
reluctantly and brutally in
"True Q" and "All Good Things . . ."), or he is pursuing a personal agenda
(to relieve his own
boredom in "QWho," to get protection from his enemies in "Deja Q," or to
pursue his object of
desire, Picard, in "Qpid" and "Tapestry").

Q *does* eventually become Picard's teacher, but in a rather perverse and
twisted fashion, and the
"lessons," such as they are, do not extend to the rest of the crew (only
Picard has any memory of
the events in "Tapestry" and "All Good Things . . .").  And even there Q
has his own reasons for
teaching Picard as I will discuss in detail below.  It might be more
accurate to describe Q as a
private tutor, rather than a teacher, since, from the second season on Q's
"lessons" are directed at
only one student.  Ron Moore suggests that Q would really like Picard to
become a Q.  Put another
way, Picard needs to be both elevated and educated to become *worthy* of
Q's affections, but
transforming one's student into a more suitable romantic partner is hardly
an ethical stance for a
teacher to take.  It is a common romantic trope, but the teacher-student
relationship usually
*precedes* the romantic one, while in Q and Picard's case, Q takes on the
teacher's role precisely
as a means to further the romantic relationship.  While I agree with
Hamilton's assessment of
Picard's arrogance in "QWho," and I find her discussion of Guinan's
dangerous withholding of
information to be very intriguing and well thought-out, I have to disagree
with her claim that Q is
"intent on a higher goal," that he is operating out of "concern for the
species' survival,
technologically unprepared as they were for the foes awaiting them"
(Quisine #3).  Q's motivations
in "QWho" are purely self-indulgent, and he *does*, despite Hamilton's
claim otherwise, gloat
repeatedly until the moment of Picard's surrender.  His stance is not that
of the disinterested
teacher who is concerned for his students' progress.  He is, rather, hurt
and angry at Picard's
rejection and distrust; his demeanor essentially conveys the sentiment,
"You don't want me?  I'll
show *you*!  So *there*!"  It is true that, as Hamilton suggests, Q's mask
drops after Picard's
surrender.  He does display "sympathy and compassion," but it is from the
perspective of a
triumphant conqueror who suddenly notices some worthwhile quality about
his victim.  He can
afford to be compassionate because the victory he has won has been so
overwhelming, and his
victim's surrender has been so complete.  The dignity of that surrender
intrigues Q; Picard has
revealed that he *does* have some potential, but as a love object, not a
student.

Rather than teacher-student, it might be more accurate to view Q and
Picard's relationship as that of
a father and son, as several fans have suggested.  The question is, who is
the father and who is the
son?  What makes this aspect of their relationship so interesting is that
the dynamics continually
shift.  Q far supercedes Picard in chronological age and sheer knowledge,
but Picard far
supercedes Q in emotional maturity and accumulated wisdom.  At their best
moments they realize
they both have much to learn from each other, but more commonly they fall
into a traditional
father-son power struggle, one in which the roles have become blurred.
Yet both the teacher-
student and father-son paradigms are ultimately smokescreens designed
simultaneously to hint at
and veil what is really going on, a type of relationship Star Trek:  TNG
dares not portray explicitly.
The ambiguity allows the series' creators to have their cake and eat it
too; the fans who are likely to
be intrigued by the real nature of Q's interest in Picard will pick up on
it (one fan remarks, "Q
wants him bad!"), while the fans who would be most offended by it remain
happily in the dark.
The question, "What do you think is going on with Picard and Q anyway?"
brought a variety of
responses.  Kathryn Anderson states, "Q challenges Picard in ways which
expose Picard's
hypocrisy."  William Renaud says, "I think Q sees Picard as one of
humanity's finest specimens,
the one he can best work with to point out the possibilities and dangers
that are out there that we're
bound to encounter."  Lou Chapman notes, "Q sees Picard differently from
the rest of the human
race and may even have some strange form of affection for him."  Alexander
Verkooijen says, "Q
(for some reason) likes Picard.  Picard likes Q because he knows Q is
superior to him (In physical
and moral perspective).  Only Picard doesn't want to admit this."  Brett
Burkholder says, "Q
enjoys playing with people and Picard just happens to be one of his
favorite targets."  Anthony
Guzzi speculates that "Q is fascinated with Picard; he's curious about
what makes him tick
mentally."  Bernhard Rosenkraenzer describes Q and Picard as "like
opponents in a game."  Tim
Crall thinks "Q really admires Picard, because Picard is honourable in a
way that Q can never be."
Chris Morley suggests that Picard and Q "respect each other" and "given
time, they could come to
be true friends."  These perceptions are all accurate of course, but they
don't tell the whole story.
Rachel Loss-Cutler, for instance, asserts, "I think they are attracted to
each other:  Q loves to
annoy Picard, and deep down inside him Picard likes to be annoyed."  Sonja
explains, "Picard is
stuffy, Q is zany.  Picard is responsible, Q is irresponsible.  Picard is
pompous, Q is irreverent.  I
think in a way Picard wants to be those other things."  She also suggests,
"Q enjoys playing on
Picard's suppressed homosexual tendencies."  Janet Coleman notes the
"sexual tension" between
the two.  Ramji Venkateswaran describes Q and Picard as "Gay Lovers!"
noting that "Picard is
only person Q finds remotely interesting for more than 30 seconds."
Christine M. Faltz notes that
"Q admires, respects and genuinely likes Picard, but Q hates to admit to
softer feelings and
certainly hates the idea of becoming 'attached' or a 'friend' to any
inferior being, hence his
particularly obnoxious behavior around Picard.  Picard . . . feels
threatened and exposed around
Q, which is why he finds it hard to admit it when Q is right, in whole or
part, and why he finds it
hard to thank him."  Roberto Castillo thinks "that Q is attracted to
Picard as a potential recruit for
the continuum."  While one fan specifically went out of his way to *deny*
a homoerotic attraction
between the two characters, the evidence is there, and it's actually quite
a bit more explicit than one
might expect from this series, as the rest of this essay will detail.

V
Questioner.  Teacher.  Truth-teller.  Three terms that John de Lancie and
others have used to
describe Q's role.  But has Q really developed a new appreciation of
humanity?  Is he truly
concerned with helping humankind realize their full evolutionary potential
in charting "the
unknown possibilities of existence"?  In my humble opinion, he is not.  Q
is interested in Picard.
Period.  Ultimately Q's role as a benevolent despot, guiding humankind to
a better and brighter
future, is incidental to his principal concern.  I would venture to
suggest that Q is always following
his own agenda rather than acting out of a selfless concern for the human
race, and that agenda
usually concerns Picard.  Q can act in a fashion that produces ethical
and/or beneficial results, but
his interest is in particular individuals (Picard, Data, Vash), not the
species as a whole.  Q's
misanthropy has not abated one iota in his seven years of human contact.
In "All Good Things . .
." Q is just as incensed at Picard's humanism as he was in "Encounter at
Farpoint"; humans, in Q's
eyes, remain an "ape-like race."  But despite their limitations, or
perhaps because of them, humans
do have a few valuable qualities.  To Q, Picard embodies all of
humankind's potential concentrated
in one person; at the same time in failing to achieve that potential in
the time Q had allotted him,
Picard is a continuous source of frustration to our omnipotent friend.
Ron Moore explains that the
writers of TNG thought of Q as being in love with Picard, although he
would never admit to being
in love with a human.  John de Lancie describes Q and Picard as
alter-egos.  I wish to take this
further, however, and look at the particular way Q is in love with Picard,
his alter-ego.  Q thinks
he sees a great deal of himself in Picard, and he likes what he sees.  At
the same time, he would
like to see even more of himself reflected in the mirror he has selected.
In his egotism and self-
absorption, Q can only love someone who can serve to reflect his glory
back to him.  At the same
time, he has begun to learn the limits of his omnipotence, the
purposelessness of his long
existence.  Thus Picard can not only serve as a mirror for Q, but can
complete him as well, provide
him with the human qualities he lacks, the ambition and drive and
determination and "passion and
imagination" that are fundamental to Picard's character.  Q's adoption of
Picard's Starfleet uniform
continuously emphasizes the way the characters serve as doubles for each
other.  Q has three goals
then, in his pursuit of Picard:  1) to prove to Picard how similar the two
of them really are, 2) to
show Picard that the ways in which he resembles Q, his dark side, as it
were, are essential parts of
him and cannot be separated from the whole, and 3) to bring Picard up to
his own level of
knowledge and awareness in order to make him an appropriate object of
desire to such an exalted
being.  This love story progresses principally through three episodes,
"Qpid," "Tapestry," and "All
Good Things . . .," but, oddly enough, it begins with "Q Who," with the
intense but unspoken
erotic tension that the episode creates between Q and Picard.

Q's demeanor toward Picard in this episode is like that of the dominating
and charismatic hero of
romance novels who tries to seduce the independent and assertive heroine.
When his attempts at
seduction fail, he frequently resorts to force, and she eventually
"learns" that her true role is to
submit and surrender, relinquishing her proud independence.  In this
particular romance, Q casts
Picard as the unwilling heroine, who resists his attempts at seduction.
Like many romance heroes,
he takes his love object captive, threatening to keep Picard in the
shuttlecraft until he agrees to hear
Q's proposal.  The issue here is power, pure and simple.  Q has taken on
the most challenging
potential conquest on the Enterprise, and he will stop at nothing until he
has his way with the
reluctant object of his desire.  The confined space of the shuttlecraft is
the perfect locale for Q to
execute his dishonorable intentions; he leans over Picard seductively and
menacingly, emphasizing
the helplessness of his captive's situation.  The threat of rape is
unstated, but implicit, as Picard
has no choice but to tolerate Q's violation of his personal space, and the
frame fills with their two
heads as Q's lips touch Picard's ear.
Q does occasionally drop his menacing pose, allowing himself to display
some endearingly
defensive vulnerability.  He offers himself as a crew member who is "ready
and willing, able to
serve" and is so eager, in fact, that he says, "if necessary, although I
can't imagine why, I will
renounce my powers and become as weak and as incompetent as the rest of
you."  A touching, if
ungraciously delivered, proof of devotion.  Despite his reluctance to
allow himself to be seduced,
Picard is not immune to Q's charms.  Picard is actually tempted by Q's
offer to join the Enterprise
crew, saying, in a noticeably throaty voice, "To learn about you is
frankly provocative, but you're
next of kin to chaos."  Frankly *provocative*?  Captain, captain, what
were you thinking about?
True to his role as the reluctant heroine, Picard declines Q's proposal,
setting himself up to being
forced to surrender.  Although the principal plot of the episode concerns
the first contact with the
Borg, Q keeps reminding us of his own agenda.  While the Enterprise flees
the Borg vessel, Q lies
draped languorously along the bridge railing, one leg crossed over the
other, his head propped on
his fist, in a seductive, come-hither pose.  He's in no hurry.  He knows
his victim has to surrender
eventually.  Realizing he is completely outmatched by the Borg, Picard
willingly abases himself in
order to save the lives of the crew.  He demands, "Q, end this," and Q, in
his usual flippant tone,
replies, "Moi?  What makes you think I'm either inclined or capable to
terminate this encounter?"
Picard then appeals directly to his tormenter's sadistic streak: "If we
all die here, now, you will not
be able to gloat.  You wanted to frighten us, we're frightened.  You
wanted to show us that we're
inadequate for the moment, I grant that.  You wanted me to say I need you,
I NEED YOU!"  Q's
satisfied smile in reaction to this speech reveals that his triumph has
been complete, and he has
gotten exactly what he wanted.  At the same time there is a charged,
unspoken erotic undercurrent
to this scene.  Stewart delivers his speech of surrender by beginning
quietly, building up the
tension in his voice, and then releasing it with a passionately-uttered
climax:  "I NEED YOU!"
After rescuing the ship, Q tells Picard, "That was a difficult admission.
Another man would have
been humiliated to say those words.  Another man would have rather died
than ask for help."  Q is
actually moved by Picard's willingness to submit to him; he is gratified
by Picard's surrender, but
de Lancie's delivery of those lines, without a hint of mockery, suggests
that Q is suddenly viewing
Picard in a new light.  Picard has just demonstrated himself to be an
intriguing challenge, an object
of desire worth conquering.

"Qpid" is the next installment in this tale of romance, setting up a love
triangle between Picard, Q,
and Vash.  Although on the surface Picard and Q seem to be competing over
Vash, Q's real goal is
not to secure Vash for himself but to get her away from Picard.
Throughout his appearances on
the series, Q treats Beverly Crusher (Gates McFadden) with particular
derision; for instance in
"Tapestry," he makes a point of informing Picard that he died "under the
inept ministrations of Dr.
Beverly Crusher."  Q does not want any competition, and he will get rid of
Vash by any means
possible, even if he has to take her away himself.  This episode would
seem to embody one of
Picard's worst nightmares; he is due to deliver a keynote speech to an
archaelogy symposium
being held aboard the Enterprise, and he ends up having two potential
romantic partners throwing
themselves at him just when he doesn't need the distraction.  Q arrives in
the most openly
flirtatious mode he has yet displayed, waiting in Picard's ready room
while the beleaguered
Captain walks in, intending to work on his speech:
Q:  Jean-Luc, it's wonderful to see you again.  How about a big hug? . . .
Well, don't just stand
there, say something.
Picard:  Get out of my chair!
Q:  And I was hoping for something more along the lines of 'welcome back,
Q--it's a pleasure to
see you again, my old friend.'
Picard:  We're not friends!
Q:  You wound me, mon Capitaine.
Q professes to "have a debt to repay," referring, of course, to his
previous appearance in "Deja Q":
Q:  Without your assistance in our last encounter, I would never have
survived.  I would have
taken my own life if but for you.
Picard:  We all make mistakes.
Q:  Your good deed made possible my reinstatement in the Continuum.  And I
resent owing you
anything.  So I'm here to pay up.  Tell me what it is you wish, and I'll
be gone.
Picard:  Just be gone.  That'll do nicely.
Picard is perfectly willing to flirt back, but it is in the junior high
mode of trading insults with
someone you really care about because admitting your feelings would be the
height of
embarrassment.  Q quickly falls into this mode as well, perusing Picard's
speech and opining, "It's
dull, plodding, and pedantic, much like yourself."  Q offers to take
Picard to the forbidden ruins of
Tagus III (the subject of Picard's speech) or even back in time 2 billion
years to the height of the
Taguan Civilization.  When Picard refuses, Q declares in exasperation,
"You are simply the most
impossible person to buy a gift for!"--the eternal lament of lovers and
spouses in regard to their
partners.  Picard is understandably wary about Q's intentions.  He tells
Riker, "He wants to do
something nice for me," and Riker responds, "I'll alert the crew."

Q makes his most overt declaration of his feelings in a scene in Picard's
bedroom, visiting the
Captain who is seductively clothed in very short pjs with a v-neck open to
the waist.  The scene
absolutely crackles with erotic tension; de Lancie generates considerably
more fireworks here and
in other scenes with Stewart than he ever does with Jennifer Hetrick in
her role as Vash.  As if he
himself is offering to rectify the problem he perceives, Q peeks under
Picard's covers and asks,
"Sleeping alone?" before hopping in bed with the Captain and striking a
coy pose, with arms
folded and legs demurely crossed at the ankles.  Q is obviously jealous of
Picard's feelings for
Vash, but he is even more disappointed in the way Picard has allowed love
to diminish him;
according to Q, he is "tense, preoccupied, somewhat . . . smaller" (here Q
pauses and raises he
eyebrows to accentuate the word "smaller").  Q explains:  "I had high
hopes for you, Picard; I
thought you were a bit more evolved than the rest of your species, but now
I realize you're just as
weak as all the others.  Still it pains me to see the great Jean-Luc
Picard brought down by a
woman."  Q derides Picard for not being "more evolved" than the rest of
his species, for Q can
only justify his own attraction to a mere human by convincing himself of
Picard's superiority.  If
Picard is to be a worthy object of desire to such an exalted being, he
must at least have Q-like
qualities that are just waiting to be revealed.  Instead he is behaving in
(from Q's point of view) an
alarmingly conventional manner.  While leaning over Picard in bed, Q notes
that he witnessed
Picard's "little spat with Vash," and remarks, in his most condescending
tone "Nor will I soon
forget the look of anguish on your face, the pain, the misery," and he
continues in a malevolent
whisper, "If I didn't know better, I would have thought you were already
*married*."  At this
point, Picard leaps out of bed and strides into the other room, and Q
confesses, in his usual
seductive stance behind Picard's shoulder, "This human emotion, love, it's
a dangerous thing,
Picard, and obviously you're ill-equipped to handle it.  *She's found a
vulnerability in you, a
vulnerability I've been looking for for years.  If I'd known sooner, I
would have appeared as a
female*" (emphasis mine).  Q would have no objections to Picard's
"vulnerability" if he could
exploit it for his own purposes.  This is a pretty damned explicit
confession of feelings from one
male to another, particularly for Star Trek:  TNG (an AIDS-themed episode
which matter-of-factly
included a gay couple was once proposed but shot down), but the homoerotic
implications are
supposedly mitigated by Q's apparent genderlessness.  I don't buy it,
though.  Even within the
world of the series, assuming one suspends one's disbelief and disregards
the casting of a male
actor, Q simply acts too much like a guy to convince me that his gender
appearance is arbitrary.  As
Janet Coleman states, his personality seems "anachronistically 'male'" in
the stereotypical "view of
men as embarrassed by and therefore hostile with sentimentality . . .
aggressive, domineering,
arrogant."  Q's gay fans have their own theory about what "Q" stands for,
but he is neither
effeminate nor androgynous.  He is, rather, as Alara Rogers describes him,
a "hyper-male," "a
queer with power," who has "the potential to rape other men."  He is, as
she notes, "younger,
taller, and more dominating than Picard," and de Lancie repeatedly
emphasizes Q's height
advantage over the Captain, using physical intimidation to heighten the
threat he represents.
Rachel Loss-Cutler similarly points out that Q "has assumed a form that is
specifically designed to
put Picard on edge:  younger, a bit taller, and with hair."  And Sonja
notes, "he's taller, has more
hair, and is younger."  Q's sexuality may be polymorphous, but de Lancie
plays him as undeniably
*male*.  It's worth noting that de Lancie describes Q as not merely
"bisexual," but "bi*spe*cial."
Presumably Q's species has evolved *beyond* the point where gender or
species would limit
one's choice of romantic partners.  One can only hope.  Picard,
unfortunately for Q, has not
"evolved" beyond his species' conceptions of gender.  Vash is, in effect,
a female and less
interesting version of Q; she shares his deviousness, ruthlessness, and
selfishness, but lacks his
knowledge, awareness, and power.  Q is undoubtedly frustrated that Picard
has fallen for a lesser
version of himself, merely because she is female, but that Picard has done
so provides Q with
useful information.  Picard does have it in him to be attracted to what Q
represents, which is, after
all, his own dark side, as he will learn in "Tapestry."





***********************************************************
Atara Stein

Picard to Q:  "To learn about you is frankly provocative, but you're next
of kin to chaos."


Path: tivoli.tivoli.com!geraldo.cc.utexas.edu!cs.utexas.edu!news.sprintlink.net!uunet!news.delphi.com!usenet
From: Alara Rogers <[e-mail]>
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: Q Rules! (An Unauthorized History) 6/6
Date: Tue, 28 Mar 95 23:06:43 -0500
Organization: Delphi ([e-mail] email, 800-695-4005 voice)
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Xref: tivoli.tivoli.com alt.startrek.creative:7447

This message has been posted to a.s.c. by Alara Rogers
([e-mail]), but she is *not* the author. All comments, e-mail,
etc, should go to the author, Atara Stein at [e-mail]. (The line
breaks are Atara's fault!) :-)


Picard, once again, makes the mistake of not taking Q at his word; Picard
*would* be "far better
off" if Q turned Vash "into a Klabnian eel."  Although his motives are
entirely selfish, Q is
completely accurate in his assessment that Vash is "many things, none of
them innocent."  After
all, it takes one to know one.  Unable to express his own feelings for
Picard more openly, Q can
only resort to another gratuitous (if silly) display of his
power--throwing the crew into an absurd
Robin Hood scenario, with Picard as you-know-who and Vash (incongruously)
as Maid Marian, a
Maid Marian who wants no part of her rescuer, fully intending to take care
of herself.  As usual
with its portrayal of independent, free-spirited women, Star Trek:  TNG
misogynistically implies
that such women either control others *with* or are controlled *by* their
sexuality (don't get me
started on the topic of Lwaxana Troi with her hyperactive sex drive and
her excessively heavy and
abundant luggage--she is a caricature of men's worst fears about women).
As she will later do in
"Q-Less," Vash prostitutes herself, attempting to seduce Sir Guy rather
than allow Picard to rescue
her.  Although he is trying to teach a lesson to Picard, Q finds himself
interested in Vash despite
himself, bestowing such compliments (for him) upon her as "I had no idea
you were so ruthless"
and remarking, "I think you're worth further study."  Since he can't
actually get Picard, Picard's
woman will have to do--nothing like competition over a woman to cement
some male bonding.
Although Picard and Vash are on the verge of being executed, thanks partly
to Q's meddling,
Picard's crew arrives (of course) in the nick of time, and Picard gets to
show off his sword-
fighting prowess.  Although Picard acquits himself bravely, Q has proved
his point.  When Picard
worries about his crew, Q responds, "Sadly enough, they're all fine.  But
my point is they could
have been killed and so might have you all for the love of a maid.  My
debt to you, Picard, is paid
if you have learned how weak and vulnerable you really are, if you finally
see how love has
brought out the worst in you."  Q is trying so very hard to bring Picard
up to his own level, to get
him to transcend his human frailties.  In the long run, however, all he
can do is punish Picard for
being "such a limited creature" by taking Vash away from him.  Q can't
help being attracted to
Vash because she also serves him as a mirror, although a mirror that
reflects different aspects of
his personality than Picard does.  Both Q and Vash are "devious and amoral
and unreliable and
irresponsible and definitely not to be trusted."  Yet ultimately she is a
substitute.  Q asks Picard,
"Well, are you going to kiss her good bye?" as that is the closest he's
going to get to being kissed
by Picard himself.  In the final scene between Picard, Q, and Vash, Q puts
his arm around Vash,
but both sit as if posing, merely putting on a show for Picard's benefit.
Although the overt context
of the scene is that Q has won Vash from Picard in an exhibit of masculine
competition over a
prized object of desire, Vash is simply a medium of exchange between the
two men, and de Lancie
seems to go out of his way to subvert the heterosexual context of this
scene.  Q's eyes never leave
Picard during the scene; de Lancie thus suggests that Q's interest is
really in Picard, not Vash.  He
clearly has a voyeuristic interest in Picard and Vash's parting kiss; he
settles back as if to watch.
When both Picard and Vash give him pointed looks, he sighs, "All right,"
and disappears.  A
moment later, as Picard and Vash are about to kiss, Q returns, leans back
comfortably, and waits.
When it is clear they won't kiss until he leaves, Q explains in an
endearingly awkward manner,
"Oh, . . . um . . . I'm sorry.  I forgot my hat," puts on his hat, and
disappears with an obvious
reluctance.

Although Picard does not appear in the next chapter of Q's interlude with
Vash, "Q-Less," he
hovers over the episode like a ghost, the unseen third side of the love
triangle established in
"Qpid."  Q complains "Really, Vash, I can't believe you're still pining
for Jean-Luc, that self-
righteous do-gooder," but it is Q who is pining for Picard, not Vash.
Vash serves as a medium of
exchange between Picard and Q; if Q can reclaim Vash, then he has a means
of getting Picard's
attention.  Q's interactions with Vash are laden with spoken and unspoken
references to Picard,
and Q is disappointed that Sisko (Avery Brooks) cannot serve as an
adequate substitute for the
Captain.  Sisko says, "If you're looking for sympathy, you've come to the
wrong place," and Q
retorts, "Actually what I was hoping for was a little witty repartee, but
I can see I'm not going to
get any of that either."  And to Vash he adds, "At least your beloved
Jean-Luc knew how to turn a
phrase."  For Q, his sparring matches with Picard are a form of
flirtation, and Sisko won't flirt.
Picard, however, *will* and *does*, intentionally or not, but Sisko simply
doesn't have Picard's
style.  When Q, in a whimsical mood, sets up a boxing match between
himself and Sisko (another
attempt at male bonding), he's aghast when Sisko floors him:
Q:  You hit me!  Picard never hit me.
Sisko:  I'm not Picard.
Q:  Indeed not, you're much easier to provoke.  How fortunate for me.
They can't seem to get rid of the ghost of Picard on this episode.  When
Sisko and his crew are
unable to solve the puzzle of the energy drain, Q remarks, "Picard and his
lackeys would have
solved all this technobabble hours ago.  No wonder you're not commanding a
starship."  It's
Picard Q is really after, but he needs an excuse to drop in, an excuse
that will be provided in
"Tapestry."  In the meanwhile, Vash and Sisko will have to suffice.  In my
opinion, a romantic
connection between Q and Vash doesn't work particularly well, because Vash
simply doesn't have
as much to offer as Picard.  While she does resemble Q himself in certain
respects, it is in a very
limited way, and she isn't unique, energetic, intelligent, and intriguing
enough to sustain Q's
interest for very long.  Summarizing his attitude toward "Q-Less," de
Lancie stated, "It's Q come
back to pine about Vash leaving him and again I say--who cares?  Why would
I be interested in the
first place?" ("Q&A with John de Lancie," Quisine #3).  Precisely.

In "Qpid," Picard clearly demonstrated that he is not yet up to Q's level,
so Q has to try a different
tactic in his effort to remake Picard in his own image.  Despite Q's
apparent compassion and
charity in allowing Picard to relive his past in "Tapestry," there is more
to this exercise.  The
subtext is Q's narcissistic desire to prove to Picard how similar the two
of them really are.  When
Picard relates some of his romantic misdemeanors, Q responds in an
unmistakably affectionate
tone, "I had no idea you were such a cad.  I'm impressed."  Describing
himself in his youth,
Picard remarks, "I was a different person in those days.  Arrogant,
undisciplined, with far too
much ego and far too little wisdom.  I was more like *you*," to which Q
replies, "Then you must
have been far more interesting.  Pity you had to change."  After his stint
as a junior lieutenant of
astrophysics, Picard demands that Q put things back the way they were.  He
insists "I can't live
out my days as that person.  That man is bereft of passion and
imagination.  That is not who I am!"
Q replies:  "Au contraire.  He's the person you wanted to be.  One who was
less arrogant and
undisciplined in his youth, one who was less like *me*."  Picard
confesses, "You're right, Q.
You gave me the chance to change, and I took the opportunity.  But I admit
now it was a mistake."
Q thus triumphantly proves to the Captain that it was Picard's very
resemblance to *himself* that
made him the person he is, that Picard's arrogant, undisciplined, and
Q-like qualities were essential
to his development.

Q is even more overtly flirtatious in this episode than he is in "Qpid,"
and Picard, interestingly
enough, shows an intangible ease in Q's company.  Instead of his usual
hyperalertness and rigid
stance when Q draws close to him, Picard remains relaxed, confiding in Q,
seriously and
intimately, about the circumstances that led up to his being stabbed.  His
irritation with Q is more
flirtatious than convincing, and he smiles conspiratorially while relating
his stellar career as a two-
timing ladies' man.  When Q "compliments" him for being a "cad," Picard
nods slightly in a show
of unspoken but understood male complicity.  Q's body language and tone of
voice are seductive
throughout Picard's interlude in the past.  Significantly enough, after
Picard's friends Marta and
Corey depart, laughing that "Johnny" probably has another date, Q
instantly appears.  He is not
only Picard's date, but he is a superior officer using his power to seduce
a subordinate.  He arrives
in Picard's quarters, brandishing a baton and announcing, "Attention on
deck, Ensign Picard!"
When Picard exclaims "Q!" Q admonishes him, in a bedroom voice, "That's
Captain Q to you,
*young man*."  Q explains to Picard, "You're twenty-one years old again, a
brash young man,
fresh out of the academy," and Picard walks over to the mirror, remarking,
"I certainly don't look
it," and Q comes right up to him, looks him up and down appraisingly, then
drawls, "Well, to
everyone else you do."  Picard simply nods in acknowledgment as the two
counterparts look at
themselves and each other in the mirror, but it is a nod that communicates
an unspoken sense of
shared understanding.  When Q flirts, Picard flirts back:
Picard:  What if I don't make the changes?  What if I won't avoid the
fight?
Q:  Then you die on the table, and we spend eternity together.
Picard:  Wonderful.
Q:  I'm glad you think so.
Q's demeanor here isn't particularly menacing despite the threat he makes;
it's more a form of
affectionate teasing, an affection that is clearly evident in his tone of
voice, and Picard reacts
accordingly.  Despite the life-or-death nature of Picard's visit to his
past, he seems remarkably
comfortable with his erstwhile oppressor.  Q continues to tease and taunt
Picard for his egotism
and obtuseness, but Picard responds as if this is all scripted, a kind of
banter he has long since
gotten used to.  When Picard is not out mishandling his relationships with
women and destroying
his friendship with Corey, he and Q seem to be in continuous physical
proximity.  As they watch
the dom-jot game together in the recreation facility, Q sits immediately
next to Picard, leaning back,
his hands wrapped coyly around one knee, and Picard stands leaning in
toward him, as he tells his
story.  Q later interrupts an intimate tete-a-tete between Picard and
Marta, bringing the object of his
affections an extravagant and lavish bouquet of roses (omnipotence has
some advantages,
apparently).

The most explicitly homoerotic scene occurs after the show's creators have
made a point of
demonstrating Picard's heterosexuality.  We wouldn't want anybody to get
any ideas, now, would
we?  The morning after Picard has gone to bed with Marta, the camera pans
over his clothes strewn
on the floor to reveal Picard lying in bed on his side, obviously naked.
A hand reaches over to
stroke his ear, Picard chuckles happily in response, then rolls over to
discover Q lying next to him
(fully clothed, alas) and greeting him with a sultry-voiced, "Morning,
Darling."  Picard's initial
reaction is to yank the covers up to his neck and to react defensively
when Q teases him, with a
dead-on imitation of Stewart's accent, about his amorous evening:  "We're
just friends, Q, nothing
more."  As the scene progresses, however, the two chat easily and
intimately, and Picard even
spontaneously pulls down his covers to his waist, no doubt for the benefit
of his many fans of
both sexes.  Q asks Picard, conversationally, "So, what next?"  When
Picard replies thoughtfully,
"I don't know, but what I do know is this time things will be different,"
Q responds "I'm *sure*"
in a simultaneously affectionate and seductive tone.  This particular
scene was intended to be
filmed with the actors *sitting* on the bed, but they decided to take
matters into their own hands
(or rather, onto their own backs), thereby resembling nothing so much as a
comfortably married
couple discussing their plans for the day.  Another scene in which de
Lancie kissed Stewart on the
forehead didn't make it past the guardians of morality, however, and was
cut.  Q's desire for
Picard is fine as long as it is *implied*, not overt; or if it is overt,
as in "Qpid," it can only be
expressed under the cover of Q's supposed (but implausible) lack of
gender.  (The creators of Star
Trek:  TNG, like the creators of the Lethal Weapon series, have apparently
concluded that
audiences find unstated and tacit homoeroticism titillating, as long as it
isn't taken seriously; you
just can't treat it explicitly.  Star Trek fans aren't readily fooled,
however--just read some of the fan
fiction on the Internet involving DS9's Garak and Bashir.)  Despite Q's
seductive and flirtatious
demeanor, Picard, of course, still doesn't get it.  He tells Riker,
"There's still part of me that
cannot accept that Q would give me a second chance.  Or that he would
demonstrate so much
compassion.  And if it was Q, I owe him a debt of gratitude."  He explains
further, "There are
many parts of my youth that I'm not proud of.  There were loose threads,
untidy parts of me that I
would like to remove.  But when I pulled on one of those threads it
unravelled the tapestry of my
life."  That loose thread he pulled, of course, was his resemblance to Q,
the egotism and arrogance
they both share, but that Picard tries to deny.  Interestingly, Picard can
be most himself with Q,
can act on those impulses his disciplined exterior usually represses.  In
"Tapestry," Q holds up a
mirror to Picard, and that mirror is Q himself.  Picard learns his lesson,
learns to accept and
embrace that mirror image as an inextricable part of who he is.  Annie
Hamilton similarly argues,
"if Picard were to look honestly in the mirror, and to strip away all
pretence, he would find that he
resembled Q uncannily.  Underneath Picard's calm tolerant facade and Q's
arrogant posturing
mask, they are fundamentally the same."  "Tapestry" is, IMHO, the most
successful Q episode
(although "All Good Things . . . " comes close) because it explores the
dynamics of Q and
Picard's relationship in such a thorough and multi-faceted way.  The
writing and acting really come
together in a manner that reveals two individuals who are fascinated and
intrigued with each other,
who are beginning to feel some genuine ease in each other's presence and
affection for each other,
but who continually have to wrestle to gain the upper hand, each afraid of
revealing his
vulnerabilities to the other.

Q renews his efforts at reshaping the Captain in "All Good Things . . . ."
 Having forced his alter-
ego and object of desire to acknowledge the ways in which they resemble
each other, Q returns to
the project he initiated in "Qpid."  Q's principal concern here is that
Picard live up to the image he
(Q) has of him, to conform to his expectations.  When Q derides Picard as
"You obtuse piece of
*flotsam*!" he is not merely expressing the frustration of a teacher with
a slow and stubborn
student or that of a mentor with a protege who has failed to live up to
expectations.  He is also
expressing the rage and disappointment of a lover who is becoming
increasingly convinced that he
has bestowed his affections on an unworthy object; trying to cover for his
own chagrin, he lashes
out:  "He doesn't understand!  I have only myself to blame I suppose.  I
believed in you.  I thought
you had potential.  But apparently I was wrong."  Not happy at having to
admit he may have made
a poor choice, he vents his anger on Picard, who genuinely has no clue
what is going on.  He
dimly realizes that *something* is going on; he just doesn't know what it
is.  He understands that
this is *not* the usual scripted banter between two familiar sparring
partners, telling his crew, in
conference, "There was a deadly earnestness about him [Q].  I think he's
serious."  Picard realizes
further, "he's always had a certain fascination with humanity, with myself
in particular.  I think he
has more than a passing interest in what happens to me."  "More than a
passing interest" is an
understatement, and Picard hasn't begun to understand what that interest
consists of.  Ironically,
Data has a better understanding than anyone else, noting "Q's interest in
you has always been very
similar to that of a master and his beloved pet."  Q desperately wants
Picard to succeed, to prove
himself worthy of Q's attention and affection for once and for all.  Since
Q's attraction to Picard is
so proprietary, Picard's performance in this test will reflect directly on
Q himself, and his
colleagues in the Continuum would undoubtedly give him a hard time if his
pet screwed up.  When
Picard does succeed, the relief and affection in Q's voice is tangible, as
he states, "The Continuum
didn't think you had it in you, Jean-Luc, but I knew you did."  But when
Picard asks Q, "Are you
saying that it worked?  We collapsed the anomaly?" Q responds irritably
with the petulance of an
unappreciated lover, "Is that all this meant to you, just another spatial
anomaly, just another day at
the office?"  Mocking his recalcitrant pupil's limited ability to
comprehend what was at stake, Q
sighs, "The anomaly.  My ship.  My crew.  I suppose you're worried about
your fish, too.  Well,
if it puts your mind at ease you've saved humanity.  Once again."  His
tone during this final scene
is one of both indulgence and irritation.  On the one hand, he is proud
that Picard was able to make
a leap in understanding, but on the other hand, he seems overly frustrated
at Picard's lack of
comprehension.  The two seem to achieve a moment of genuine communication
which is
reinforced by their physical proximity, but it is quickly obvious that
Picard is not ready to
understand what he is being offered.  He demands, "Q, what is it that
you're trying to tell me?"
and Q, about to whisper a reply in his ear (a reply that, if my
lip-reading doesn't fail me, seems to
begin with the word "I"--you fill in the blanks), changes his mind and
says only "You'll find out."
Q's frustration seems to lie in the fact that Picard remains almost
exclusively focused on the
salvation of humankind, which for Q is a minor concern.  *His* priority
has been an effort to
jumpstart Picard's development, to bring the Captain up to his own level
of knowledge and
awareness.  I believe that is why he insists on helping Picard solve the
puzzle his superiors had
mandated.  For Q the whole significance of the test was whether Picard
"had the ability to expand
your mind and your horizons," to become the mirror of himself that he
desires.  Although Picard
has made a step in the right direction, has perhaps shown himself to be a
*bit* more evolved than
the rest of his species, as far as Q is concerned he still has a long way
to go.  All Q can do is keep
trying to transform Picard into a worthy object of his affections.
Anticipating his future
involvement in overseeing Picard's development, he says "I'll be watching.
 And if you're very
lucky I'll drop by to say hello from time to time.  See you *out there*."


Conclusion
Like the rock star in concert who may advance a liberal political agenda
but who holds absolute
sway over his fans, galvanizing them into singing in unison with a single
thrust of his microphone,
Q seems to represent a rebellious defiance of institutional authority, an
authority embodied both by
Picard and by the Q Continuum, but is actually an oppressor himself.  He
compels the submission
of his "subjects" with the traditional tactics of totalitarian regimes:
rigged trials, kidnapping, forced
detention, and terror.  To Q, the ends, however brutal, justify the means.
 What I find fascinating
is how the producers, directors, writers, and performers of a show with
such idealistic, liberal,
and humanistic intentions as Star Trek:  TNG nevertheless fall
(unconsciously, I suspect) into the
potentially fascist paradigm of promoting a charismatic and extremely
powerful authority figure as
the solution to our most pressing problems, whether they involve one
individual's growth (in
"Qpid," "True Q," and "Tapestry") or our survival (in "Q Who," "Q-Less,"
and "All Good Things
. . . ").  Q represents brute power, and his sway over humankind is
absolute.  At this point you
may think that I am being unduly critical, that I have it in for this show
and Q's portrayal in
particular.  That is not my intention, however.  I am a very devoted and
increasingly obsessive Star
Trek fan (if it's good enough for Stephen Hawking, it's good enough for
me), and I confess that I
have been utterly captivated by Q's charms.  De Lancie and Stewart are,
IMHO, dynamic,
compelling, and sexy performers, and the two of them together on a single
screen, with that
remarkable chemistry they've managed to generate between them, create an
irrestistible
combination.  I admit it; like so many of their fans, I'm smitten.  So why
all this analysis into the
nature of Q's appeal?  When I try to engage my six-year old daughter in
discussions about the
violence and gender stereotypes in the stories she reads and TV shows and
movies she watches,
she inevitably cuts off the discussion by declaring, in a weary, bored
tone only a six-year old can
muster, "It's *only* a story, Mom."  Quite so.  Star Trek:  TNG is, after
all, *only* a story, but as
a story (and an overwhelmingly popular story at that) it is, nonetheless,
a mirror of and potentially
an influence on our society.  If we take the time to analyze why a
character like Q appeals to us so
strongly, we gain an insight into our own dreams, desires, and fantasies,
and the extent to which
those dreams, desires, and fantasies have been culturally conditioned by
years of exposure to
popular books, movies, TV shows, and music.  In my own tactless and Q-like
way, I am trying to
fulfill a Q-like function--to raise questions.  Doing so should not
detract from the experience of
enjoying Star Trek; rather, it should enrich the experience.  If our
emotional responses and our
critical judgment contradict each other, leading to a state of cognitive
dissonance, then that is all to
the better.  That dissonance is worth exploring.  If we understand why we
are so taken with Q, we
begin to understand more about ourselves.

We want a hero who is larger than life, who can give us a vicarious
experience of self-sufficiency
and power, but we also want that hero to be human after all, to share our
values and emotions.  Q
simultaneously satisfies two of our most cherished fantasies:  he can do
whatever he wants and get
away with it, and he is the godlike protector who solves our problems for
us.  Q initially appeals to
us in his omnipotence.  Who among us hasn't fantasized about eliminating
the moron who cut us
off on the freeway with a wave of the hand, or much more seriously, about
bringing a loved one
back to life "with a snap of a finger"?  As the fan I quoted at the
opening rhapsodizes, "Q is the end
all be all of all my aspirations."  Lou Chapman is intrigued by "the sheer
mindboggledom of his
power," exclaiming, "What a guy!!"  Robert Savoie asks, "Omnipotence is
the ultimate desire of
anyone, wouldn't you say?"  A fan who identifies himself as Kahless the
Unforgettable says "the
reason I am intrigued by Q is that he can do anything he wants, and what
he does usually turns out
funny."  We may be tempted and intrigued by his ability to get away with
self-indulgently doing
whatever he wants and tactlessly saying whatever is on his mind, but Q
does not serve as a role
model.  Q is very much the parent who says, "Do as I say, not as I do."
And ultimately we cannot
attain even a fraction of a *fraction* of Q's power and self-sufficiency.
He is an impossibly
remote and unattainable ideal, and if he were to remain invulnerable,
without diluting his
misanthropy, he would cease to charm us.  It is in acknowledging our
worth, despite (or because
of) our frailties and limitations, that Q gains our allegiance, it is in
acknowledging his own
vulnerabilities.  He particularly validates our feelings by sharing our
fascination with our stalwart
and sexy starship Captain (it's not only women and gays who are entranced
by Picard; I've heard
several *straight* men acknowledge Stewart's sex appeal).  Q had to be
humanized to retain his
fans' allegiance, he had to provide us with a reason to identify *with*
him, he had to be rendered
accessible and sympathetic, and it is in his love for Picard that we see
him at his most human,
revealing his vulnerabilities in the very process of trying to conceal
them with an assertion of his
own superiority.  With Q we can have our cake and eat it too; he
represents the allure of absolute
power, while at the same time affirming the advantages of our own
powerless*ness*.  He may be
a brutal and authoritarian leader, but he is, after all, a reluctant one.
Q's discontent with his
omnipotent and immortal state tells us plainly that humans are really
better off than he is.  As
Anthony Guzzi notes, "I am intrigued by Q because he has the power to do
anything imaginable,
and yet he still chooses to interfere with mortals; it's like he has
nothing better to do."  Ultimately I
believe it is Q's contradictory nature which fascinates us so; in his
inconsistency, he represents
infinite possibilities.  He is the ruthless despot who uses totalitarian
methods to teach an ultimately
liberal and humanistic message of human progress; he is the omnipotent and
immortal superbeing
who teaches the humanistic Picard to embrace his own humanity, warts and
all.  Q also offers
infinite possibilities of interpretation, from Annie Hamilton's "More
Maligned than Malignant," a
spirited and lively defense of Q as a teacher in her Australian fanzine
Quisines, to Alara Rogers'
stories which define Q's role as questioner and devil's advocate.  He can
be, as she notes,
"benevolent or malevolent, an adversary who helps you grow, a champion who
stultifies you, the
village idiot or the boy who says the Emperor has no clothes."  He is, as
Janet Coleman remarks,
both "Lucifer" and "deus ex machina," with  "more than the U.S. RDA of sex
appeal!"  Q "gets to
do all the stuff we can't," yet he pays us the ultimate tribute of
revealing that he would rather be
like us with our capacity for wonder and our awareness of "how important
each moment must be."
We should be grateful that Q is willing to serve as our protector and
guide and even more grateful
that we do *not* share his powers and immortality.  Q ironically serves to
teach us to appreciate
our own flawed humanity, showing us, in effect, that omnipotence isn't
everything it's cracked up
to be.




***********************************************************
Atara Stein

Picard to Q:  "To learn about you is frankly provocative, but you're next
of kin to chaos."