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You like the twinks and the bears and the girls and the boys
1. A text-exchange this afternoon between me and ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rushthatspeaks, who is hopefully no longer on the bus through infinite Connecticut:
There are oak leaves on my floor, trailing out the door of my bedroom. I feel as though I have been left by a demon lover.
The leaves should turn back to Chanukah gelt in 3 days, don't worry about it.
I love this person. You see why.
2. My Yuletide reading this year has been somewhat scattershot, but there were still a few pieces that got my attention. Recommendations as follows.
"Að fara til Íslands." If this story was not written by the same person who lit up my December last year by crossing Mary Renault's The Charioteer (1953) with Benjamin Britten's Peter Grimes (1945) in "Those voices that will not be drowned," I can only hope they have been pointed in its direction. This time it's Ralph Lanyon and W.H. Auden, journeying to Iceland. Beautifully realized, very nearly a secret history. Now it feels like the obvious next step should be a crossover with Alan Bennett's The Habit of Art (2010), but that's probably just me.
(As long as we're in this fandom, I would also mention "Quite a Party," a brief, promising encounter between two characters who never do meet in the novel. The writing is lovely. Alec was always my favorite. I wouldn't object if there were more in this line.)
"Journeys End (In Lovers Meeting)." Strictly speaking, Jim Prideaux and Bill Haydon are canonical, so this story reads most like an outtake from Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (1974), set between Jim's repatriation and the novel's denouement. Brief as it is, it plays on the same double level as le Carré's best work: poignant as it stands, heartbreaking if you know what lies beneath. It tells you nothing that you cannot derive from between the lines. Everything important happens there anyway.
(I can't actually believe in the coupling of Peter Guillam and Ricki Tarr, but if I were going to make the effort, "The Spy Who Got What He Deserved, If Not What He Wanted" would be a good place to start.)
"Noisy Night, Holy Night." Gefreiter Udo Schmidt of the 469th Halftrack, Gravedigging and Support Unit of the Afrika Korps, né Isador Gulphstein of Berlin, has to organize a Christmas party. In the middle of a desert, in the middle of a war. The usual bedlam and profanity ensue. My sole complaint about this story is that it's not actually an issue of The Desert Peach, because while the look on Winzig's face following Udo's Christmas present to himself doesn't need to be seen to be believed, it would be really entertaining. Maybe Donna Barr takes requests.
"All in a (Sexy) Day's Work." Whereas this one works best on the page, where the parentheses are vital. A day in the life of Hark! A Vagrant's Strong Female Characters, plus Wonder Woman; what more do you need to know? Don't ever put an assless jumpsuit through the wash.
"Look and Listen." You'll recognize these characters if you've seen Rear Window (1954), but only from the outside; you're more used to Mr. Shutterbug and the Socialite. This could be original fiction, one kaleidoscope-turn over from the classic mystery. Anyone want to edit an anthology reinterpreting classic film?
"Pulling the Possibilities." This one is just adorable: a stray remark by Christopher Chant leads to a long-obvious engagement (or at least obvious once the rest of Chrestomanci Castle catches on). I find I can't really disagree with it.
"The Division of Labor in the Creation of 'The Dog Beneath the Skin': Exploring the Individual Authorship of Words, Lines, and Scenes in an Auden and Isherwood Collaboration." Two poets write a play. I don't even know how someone decides to write fic about this. I'm very, very glad they did.
3. Is it true that the time between Christmas and New Year's can be referred to as "the dead days," or did I just import that from the Mayan calendar?
rushthatspeaks, who is hopefully no longer on the bus through infinite Connecticut:There are oak leaves on my floor, trailing out the door of my bedroom. I feel as though I have been left by a demon lover.
The leaves should turn back to Chanukah gelt in 3 days, don't worry about it.
I love this person. You see why.
2. My Yuletide reading this year has been somewhat scattershot, but there were still a few pieces that got my attention. Recommendations as follows.
"Að fara til Íslands." If this story was not written by the same person who lit up my December last year by crossing Mary Renault's The Charioteer (1953) with Benjamin Britten's Peter Grimes (1945) in "Those voices that will not be drowned," I can only hope they have been pointed in its direction. This time it's Ralph Lanyon and W.H. Auden, journeying to Iceland. Beautifully realized, very nearly a secret history. Now it feels like the obvious next step should be a crossover with Alan Bennett's The Habit of Art (2010), but that's probably just me.
(As long as we're in this fandom, I would also mention "Quite a Party," a brief, promising encounter between two characters who never do meet in the novel. The writing is lovely. Alec was always my favorite. I wouldn't object if there were more in this line.)
"Journeys End (In Lovers Meeting)." Strictly speaking, Jim Prideaux and Bill Haydon are canonical, so this story reads most like an outtake from Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy (1974), set between Jim's repatriation and the novel's denouement. Brief as it is, it plays on the same double level as le Carré's best work: poignant as it stands, heartbreaking if you know what lies beneath. It tells you nothing that you cannot derive from between the lines. Everything important happens there anyway.
(I can't actually believe in the coupling of Peter Guillam and Ricki Tarr, but if I were going to make the effort, "The Spy Who Got What He Deserved, If Not What He Wanted" would be a good place to start.)
"Noisy Night, Holy Night." Gefreiter Udo Schmidt of the 469th Halftrack, Gravedigging and Support Unit of the Afrika Korps, né Isador Gulphstein of Berlin, has to organize a Christmas party. In the middle of a desert, in the middle of a war. The usual bedlam and profanity ensue. My sole complaint about this story is that it's not actually an issue of The Desert Peach, because while the look on Winzig's face following Udo's Christmas present to himself doesn't need to be seen to be believed, it would be really entertaining. Maybe Donna Barr takes requests.
"All in a (Sexy) Day's Work." Whereas this one works best on the page, where the parentheses are vital. A day in the life of Hark! A Vagrant's Strong Female Characters, plus Wonder Woman; what more do you need to know? Don't ever put an assless jumpsuit through the wash.
"Look and Listen." You'll recognize these characters if you've seen Rear Window (1954), but only from the outside; you're more used to Mr. Shutterbug and the Socialite. This could be original fiction, one kaleidoscope-turn over from the classic mystery. Anyone want to edit an anthology reinterpreting classic film?
"Pulling the Possibilities." This one is just adorable: a stray remark by Christopher Chant leads to a long-obvious engagement (or at least obvious once the rest of Chrestomanci Castle catches on). I find I can't really disagree with it.
"The Division of Labor in the Creation of 'The Dog Beneath the Skin': Exploring the Individual Authorship of Words, Lines, and Scenes in an Auden and Isherwood Collaboration." Two poets write a play. I don't even know how someone decides to write fic about this. I'm very, very glad they did.
3. Is it true that the time between Christmas and New Year's can be referred to as "the dead days," or did I just import that from the Mayan calendar?
no subject
. . . I read that when it came out. Maybe I can cut out the Mayan middleman.