There's a twisted irony to the notion that this is a story about the power and danger that comes from seeking control over all stories... that is one of the few episodes in RTD2 not written by the man himself. While it has shades of other metafictional yarns like The Rings Of Akhaten and even Class' The Metaphysical Engine, that same sentiment about the power that comes from storytelling is tempered through an extremely specific cultural context. The Barber's backstory, of creating the foundation of a wondrous technology only to have it ripped away from him by 'higher-ups', is the story of every slave worker who mined minerals used in the infrastructure of our own World Wide Web. Including the device you're likely reading this on, unfortunately.

And this is without getting into the cultural importance of this predominantly-Black story, being told within a predominantly-White space, having haircuts and Black hair specifically as a key thematic touchstone. I'm way too pale to properly dissect that here, but if you know, you know.

Even with my admitted weakness for this side of Doctor Who, when it gets deep into telling stories about telling stories, I was not expecting this to hit as hard for me as it did. The narrative itself is beautiful, dealing directly in the friction between Men and Gods that, honestly, I was hoping all of the Pantheon arc would involve because this is intensely interesting to me. I liken that particular relationship to a large-scale, cosmic version of M.C. Escher's Drawing Hands, of stories that write their own stories, and Inua Ellams' writing here illustrated that brilliantly. At a time when literal Gods are frequently showing up as the main antagonists in the show, I like how this episode in particular makes it a point to view ideas of faith and worship in a more pragmatic sense. To slightly paraphrase Belinda: "The difference between good and evil is what we do with that belief."

There's also something about the titular Engine that feels so emblematic of the entire show. This Engine that runs on the gift of storytelling, of human imagination and articulation, that is connected to a person so full of the most wonderful stories that they essentially are a story in the shape of a person. I could easily nitpick the surprise appearance of the Fugitive Doctor here (in terms of series lore, it really doesn't make much sense), but as part of the larger display of just how many stories the Doctor has lived and been, I appreciate her inclusion all the same. That core idea, of travelling beyond the boundaries of our universe, in a vessel fuelled by the stories we tell, is about as true to the ideal of Doctor Who as it gets, far as I'm concerned.

Over the course of writing this, it feels like my head is bulging because there's just so much going on here; it's kind of overwhelming. I get the feeling I'll still be thinking this over for a while after this gets posted. And that's a good thing; I like stories worth devoting that much mental bandwidth to.