A Tale of Two Brothers
By Maria Clara Santana | Culture | October 14, 2025
Cover Illustration: The Culture Cut, 2025 / Maria Clara Santana
Dear readers,
It’s here, the very first column of The Amsterdammer by Maria Clara Santana! In her new column, “The Culture Cut,” you’ll find cultural commentary, criticism, and maybe even a few hot takes. We live in a world full of “hear me outs” and passionate opinions — and in journalism, it’s more important than ever to preserve the power of opinion, debate and critique.
We’re thrilled to begin this new chapter. The column will appear every month, bringing fresh perspectives and thoughtful insights on culture and media. If you have ideas or topics you’d love to see explored, we’d be excited to hear from you! Reach out through our social media channels and join the conversation.
The only question left: Team Conrad or Jeremiah?
With much love,
Natalie, Editor-in-Chief
The top-most point of a love triangle has historically been a man’s spot. Many consider the Biblical story of Jacob, Rachel and Leah the first written love triangle. In love with Rachel but tricked into marrying Leah, Jacob served as a reminder of the importance of faith. His story highlighted the most traditional of Christian values and is a staple religious text.
How, then, has God’s creation been twisted so far out of shape? Modern love triangles, especially as seen in young adult media, see women at their heads. Women who, unabashedly, want more. Nothing of the God-fearing figure of Leah, the fiercely loyal Rachel. Ironically, the only hint that remains of their Biblical predecessors is in the story’s most controversial twist: Rachel and Leah were sisters.
The modern YA heroine is, like Jacob, torn between siblings. But is her love Biblical, her sacrifice Godly? This summer’s smash hit, The Summer I Turned Pretty, released its final episode on PrimeVideo on September 16th – and had its own answer. Protagonist Isabel “Belly” Conklin made her final choice, picking brooding older brother Conrad over the younger, ever-cool Jeremiah. Her decision, though epic in its own right, was far from Godly. In fact, I’d argue most fans saw her fate as nearly sinful.
Belly follows a recurring pattern for teen drama leading ladies: picking the older brother. Netflix’s own hit, My Life With the Walter Boys, and The CW’s supernatural classic, The Vampire Diaries, both trace a similar path. And – though the former is still running – in both cases, book converts or alert viewers are quick to notice the foreshadowing. It seems certain, even from the first brushes with the brothers, who our heroine will end up with, like a path towards certain fate, a Godly calling.
So, why do we condemn their sins? If Belly, Jackie and Elena are simply following a predestined path – of the heart, of a higher power – can we hold them accountable? I definitely could. If Belly were our real life friend, I think most of us would need to have a sit-down talk with her about messing with brothers deep in grief. Perhaps we would judge Jackie and Elena less harshly, considering their own brushes with familial loss, but I doubt we would excuse them. Predestined or not, they hurt people on their path. That to me is reason enough to, at the very least, inquire.
Most of these stories, to me, reflect the desire to be wanted. In a society that so commonly views women from a place of male desire, it is only natural to want to be wanted. And while I would hope most of us have the sense to keep inner fantasies of brothers fighting for our love to ourselves, many girls just need an escape. To fancy yourself so wanted as to break up friendships, brotherhoods, is to feel completely visible, seen.
It is, after all, all about being seen. Producers, writers and media execs don’t care if we would be friends with our female protagonists, so long as we talk about them enough to keep watching. The ratings stay up, even if our respect is at an all-time low. A love triangle, especially one absurd enough to border on incest, hooks viewers. It ups the ante of the ship wars of regular love triangles, and ups the viewers, too: the final season of TSITP drew in 25 million viewers within its first 7 days of release, while TVD remained a CW top performer for much of its 8-season run.
“Most of these stories, to me, reflect the desire to be wanted. In a society that so commonly views women from a place of male desire, it is only natural to want to be wanted.”
Like in the seminal novel whose title I’ve twisted, The Summer I Turned Pretty spends half its final chapters in Paris. But trading A Tale of Two Cities’s classic Dickensian London gloom for warm, sunny Cousins proves crucial. In the sparkling sunlight, Belly’s betrayal is clearer than ever: even the most adamant #TeamConrad supporters feel a twinge of guilt seeing distraught Jeremiah. Because unlike in the Biblical story, modern media gives voice to all.
I feel for Leah and Rachel. I wish we could have heard their stories, their heartbreak, as we do that of our Conrad and Jeremiah. Today’s writers try their hand at balance: writing complex (often, hateable) characters who still get to tell their stories. Because sometimes it can be just that: a story. While I certainly won’t be making friends with Belly, Elena or Jackie any time soon, maybe, if Gods above cannot forgive them, I can choose to. And I can choose not to, just as easily. Maybe that is the modern viewer’s greatest privilege – seeing characters more fully than ever before, and getting the choice to love them, hate them and everything in between. The ability of fiction to move us so starkly is, to me, far more interesting than #Bonrad or #Bellyfish could ever be.
Maria Clara Santana is a university student in Amsterdam. The views expressed here are not necessarily those of The Amsterdammer.
