Operative: "That girl will rain destruction down on you and your ship.
She is an albatross, Captain."
Mal: "Way I remember it, albatross was a ship's good luck, 'til some idiot killed it."
(to Inara) "Yes, I've read a poem, try not to faint."
--Serenity (2005)
The above exchange is one of my favorite moments from Serenity (which is expected from an English major, I suppose). The poem they're referring to is "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. I think the Operative's literary reference (and Mal's reaction) is a really smart way to talk about River since there are varying opinions among Serenity's crew about whether keeping River on board is a good idea or a completely terrible idea. When the Operative suggest she's nothing but bad news, Mal quickly points out that River has become a problem mostly because of guys like him. In this case, The Operative would be the "some idiot" who "killed it" (or at least really, really wants to).
Though the exchange is quick--and still packed with Whedon-esque humor--there is a lot happening within the dialogue. The Operative deems River capable of destruction, and Mal is in a tough spot where he could easily agree since he's been struggling with Simon and River's involvement on the ship for a while. In this moment, however, I feel like he realizes River may not be at fault and there is a much deeper darkness out of her control. Mal uses his famous humor to not only snap back at The Operative but also defend River and claim (or perhaps reclaim) her as a part of the crew--for better or for worse. (Also, I think it's a pretty funny moment for Mal to try to point out to Inara that he is well read.)
Here's an excerpt from Coleridge's poem (it's pretty long, so if Mal did in fact read it, good for him!):
And I had done a hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred, I had killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.
Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay,
That made the breeze to blow!
Nor dim nor red, like God's own head
The glorious Sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist. . . .
