And I would never talk to anyone the way I talk to myself
I write so little fanfiction, it is all the more of an honor to find a story of mine cited in this beautiful essay by Nasim Mansuri: "Our Country: C.S. Lewis, Calormen, and How Fans Are Reclaiming the Fictionalized East." It does make me want to read all the rest, the author's included.
I went to bed far too late last night because I had discovered a cache of British quota quickies on one of the junkier free channels of the Roku, where everything looks like it was hastily ripped from a cassette in an independent video store right before they sold all their stock and closed in the late 2000's. There are also a number on the Internet Archive. I have never studied these fast, cheap, second features in the same way as American B-movies and I don't know if that's about to change, but I have finally seen some early Michael Powell and I hope to describe it if nothing else.
I missed Ladaniva's "Vay Aman" when it was released in 2020, but it's really lovely: a core of Armenian folk with exuberant fusions like a jazz trumpet breakdown.
I am not in great physical or mental shape right now, but I appreciate the existence of art.
P.S. Latest example, courtesy of
shewhomust: Emperor Hadrian's 1900 Birthday Bubble Bath. "As it is his 1900th birthday, it is rumoured that Sulis, the Romano-Celtic Goddess of thermal springs and healing waters more usually associated with Bath, will be attending to ensure Hadrian's water is suitably warm . . . The Emperor Hadrian will be supported by a small retinue of Romans plus local barbarian onlookers and even the Fool of Muncaster, amazed at the sophistication and civilizing influence of the Roman Empire." I assume someone will be filming it for posterity, but they should be either Andrew Kötting and Iain Sinclair or the ghost of Derek Jarman.
I went to bed far too late last night because I had discovered a cache of British quota quickies on one of the junkier free channels of the Roku, where everything looks like it was hastily ripped from a cassette in an independent video store right before they sold all their stock and closed in the late 2000's. There are also a number on the Internet Archive. I have never studied these fast, cheap, second features in the same way as American B-movies and I don't know if that's about to change, but I have finally seen some early Michael Powell and I hope to describe it if nothing else.
I missed Ladaniva's "Vay Aman" when it was released in 2020, but it's really lovely: a core of Armenian folk with exuberant fusions like a jazz trumpet breakdown.
I am not in great physical or mental shape right now, but I appreciate the existence of art.
P.S. Latest example, courtesy of

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And the Tash you created for us, and just, the kaleidoscope of human order-making. And the details of scent and touch. Just lovely.
The essay your story was mentioned in--I really like the way it ends.
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And he doesn't look a day over 1899!
What a lovely essay on reclaiming Calormen— I love the idea of fanfiction as a way to explore an aspect of canon that resonates with you in ways that the original creator didn't necessarily intend.
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Thank you! It was one of the stories where the conceit snapped everything else into place and I just had to write through all of it to find out. Which I appreciate; that can never be relied on.
And the Tash you created for us, and just, the kaleidoscope of human order-making. And the details of scent and touch. Just lovely.
I'm so glad. Allowing for the extra arms and the fact that the narrative is repulsed by him, I have always thought of Tash as looking like one of the bird-headed apkallû of Assyrian reliefs. So once there were lion hunts, of course his four arms were the cardinal directions of the four quarters of the world, kibrat 'arbaim. Even if it's horrible, his apparition in The Last Battle (1956) is one of two scenes I actually like in that book.
The essay your story was mentioned in--I really like the way it ends.
So do I. I love the image of Lewis as misapprehending traveler. It makes me want the story which is the interplay between the Baedeker and the real thing.
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It makes sense! Thank you! I am extremely glad the article was written. (The author actually contacted me through AO3 in 2019 and I missed it somehow, I assume because something terrible was happening with my health at the time. I feel bad about that.)
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Hee.
What a lovely essay on reclaiming Calormen— I love the idea of fanfiction as a way to explore an aspect of canon that resonates with you in ways that the original creator didn't necessarily intend.
That's definitely how my engagement with Lovecraft works, too.
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...and someday I will learn which little dog is British Museum. I'm certain everyone thinks it's a joke based on a meme, but what could be more spine-tingling, more Molossus-name-worthy than colonialism? Surely some seer for whom the little clay dogs were grave-goods had looked ahead and seen which was the real mean dog, the real bite force to be reckoned with, and the phonetics may not have been right, but the name was inscribed.
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We should do the projects ahead of it which don't require asking anyone except one another, and then we should eat some people who need eating and do the rest.
Surely some seer for whom the little clay dogs were grave-goods had looked ahead and seen which was the real mean dog, the real bite force to be reckoned with, and the phonetics may not have been right, but the name was inscribed.
You just want to see me render the phonetics in cuneiform.
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(I could probably plonk through on my own. I thought by our age I’d have seen Naqsh-e Rostam.)
[My rakes don’t punch Champollion for just nothin’.]
Yes yes projects in order nice nice.
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I expected to be in Greece in 2020! And thus the whirligig of time can go blow itself.