The problem I have with this is that you can play the same trick with any writer. If Kafka were writing it there’d be unexplained transformations and occasional grossness; if Peake were writing it there’d be crazy manipulated duchesses and big honking castles; if Wilder were writing there’d be faded stars and faithful (man)servants. And if Whedon were writing it there’d be crazy shifts of register and mythology making the kind of sense that doesn’t and flawed heroes constantly re-discovering that in the end we all are who we are no matter how much we may appear to have changed. Plus all the stuff about connection and strong women and everything having consequences.

And Warren is dead at least in the sense of not being alive in any recognizably human way.