Gratitudes

Oct. 23rd, 2017 01:49 pm
kass: orange aspen leaves, "zen fen" (aspen zen fen)
[personal profile] kass
1. Being able to take a personal day today when I needed one.

2. Having sufficient supplies on hand to make food without having to go to a grocery store. (Slow cooker chicken curry with potatoes and carrots; later I will make my favorite baked rice with cinnamon and curry leaves and lemon peel.)

3. Laundry, clean and folded and put away.

4. My cat, curled up on my desk beside the laptop.

5. Autumn sunshine and leaves spiraling lazily down through the air.

How are y'all?

Figure to yourselves my bogglement

Oct. 23rd, 2017 06:09 pm
oursin: Books stacked on shelves, piled up on floor, rocking chair in foreground (books)
[personal profile] oursin

A booklist which includes Tropic of Cancer and Little Women:

Goodreads' 200 Most Difficult Novels. "Novels that made you work the hardest. Let's assume that you actually finished the book and felt that it was worth the effort."

And some of those are Very Long Important Novels but some of them are quite short, and not even short in the sense of 'compressed and elliptical and dense'.

And some of them are challenging reads on account of subject matter but others, really, not so much I would have thought.

And, generically, quite a mishmash.

But a list that includes Clarissa and Coraline?

Okay, some of those books look like set texts that people had to struggle through and then found worth the journey, but others, presumably, are not the kind of books that feature in lit courses.

And some are even in the category I would have considered rattling airport reads...

Fic rec

Oct. 23rd, 2017 12:13 pm
kass: Captain America's shield. (shield)
[personal profile] kass
Deep thanks to [personal profile] shoshanna for sending this to me -- holy wow, it is gorgeous.

*

The Name in the Mouth (20796 words) by Rave
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Captain America (Movies)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers
Additional Tags: Jewish Bucky Barnes, War, Bucky Barnes in Bucharest, Non-Linear Narrative, Golems, Epistolary, Trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Summary:

He was determining his own protocols. It was an ongoing process, and kind of a mess.

Star Trek: Discovery 1.05 and 1.06

Oct. 23rd, 2017 01:06 pm
selenak: (Live long and prosper by elf of doriath)
[personal profile] selenak
1.05: In which the first TOS character other than Sarek shows up, the spotlight of the episode is shared by Saru and Lorca, and we finally get on screen canon m/m which is not limited to a few silent seconds.

Read more... )

1.06: In which it's time for another round of everyone's favourite dysfunctional Vulcan family saga. Luckily for me, since I eat this stuff up with a spoon.

Read more... )

Remembering Better Days

NSFW Oct. 23rd, 2017 09:50 am
glinda: a china cup filled with green tea and the word 'tì' (tea/tì)
[personal profile] glinda
( You're about to view content that the journal owner has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

(no subject)

Oct. 23rd, 2017 09:48 am
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin
Happy birthday, [personal profile] chalcedony_cat, [personal profile] diony, and [personal profile] em_h!

Ever-fixed mark (Part 4)

Oct. 23rd, 2017 09:17 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan

If 'twas not quite a truth universally acknowledged that when Lady Bexbury set her hand to contriving some matter, 'twould in due course come about, sure, thought Hannah, as the carriage took them from the railway station to Yeomans, it should be.

Oh, indeed, had taken a while before she and Flora might go live there. There had been the necessary work upon the house to complete: for although it had been in the finest modern style when General Yeomans had had it built, since then there had been yet further domestic improvements that one might desire.

There had been her parents to persuade, though that had been less of a difficulty than Hannah had anticipated. There had even been made over to her a nice little allowance from the proceeds of the jam factory.

But indeed, Flora’s beloved Tiger had been beforehand of any objections: had seen what straits Mrs Veriker was like to be reduced to upon her husband’s death, had taken the thought that an older and entire respectable lady in the establishment would do a deal to silence any hints of scandal in two such young ladies setting up a household, and there they were provided with a lady that would provide any necessary chaperonage, and had experience of domestic management. Julius, indeed, was quite envious that a lady of such extensive botanical knowledge would be living with them.

The gardens, said Lady Bexbury, looking out of the window, were very fine indeed when the Ulrichs were here: Mrs Ulrichs had most exceeding fine notions in gardening. But I daresay, once you are settled, you might desire advice of Julius.

Might we obtain it afore he goes to Nitherholme, said Hannah.

Indeed, said Flora, all we should require is a little advice upon how we might go on. But she looked a little – troubled? Yet after all, this was embarking upon a new enterprize for them, even Flora might well be somewhat daunted at what they went about.

But the house itself was entirely furbished and ready to inhabit, although there were still boxes of books to be unpacked in the fine room they had had made ready for a library, a task to which Hannah found herself greatly looking forward.

Is this not entirely charming a drawing-room? remarked Mrs Veriker, pouring tea. Such a splendid view of the gardens and the fountain. Sure I am sorry that we never met General Yeomans, for he seems a fellow that had excellent taste.

He was quite the finest of old fellows, said Lady Bexbury with a wistful expression. Sure one may still hear Sir Barton Wallace tell tales of the excellent bachelor parties he used to hold here; 'twould have been long ago, afore he married dear Susannah. Had two Hindoo servants that were entire devoted to him.

Was’t not, said Hannah, one of 'em, that was the cook, that taught Mama all her fine Hindoo receipts?

'Twas so – is’t not an age since any gave a tiffin party? – and after the General’s death went open an eating house about the docks.

Flora laughed and said that sure while they were on the Grand Tour there might have been daily tiffin parties and they would not have known.

Indeed, said Hannah, His Lordship gave several, and there were a couple at least at Offgrange House.

Sure I am a foolish Clorinda! She looked around the room again. Well, my dears, I hope that you will be happy here. I confide that 'twould be prudent for you to go sit in the Yeomans pew of a Sunday, to look well with the village. While the parson is by no means so learned a fellow as Mr Lucas, that had the living before he was preferred to that fine rectory by Tony Offgrange, is give out a good conscientious shepherd to his flock, has a wife that runs a Sunday-school and does good works among the poor, a thriving family – I daresay he will call and so will she.

We should wish, said Flora, to do all that was proper and not create scandal; but I hope we will not get caught up in working-parties and mothers’ meetings and so on.

Hannah looked at her and wondered whether Flora, that ever loved to be up and doing, would entirely avoid such affairs. Was there a school? A dispensary? A reading-room? improvements to the water-supply? plans on hand for almshouses or model cottages? Flora was a Ferraby, and was there a need for any of these, Hannah was in no doubt she would turn her hand to it.

By the time it came round Sunday, and they went to church, they were already settling into a pleasing round of activity. Mrs Veriker was editing various essays of her late husband’s for publication – Lord Offgrange had promised a preface, so very kind. Hannah had begun on the rational arrangement of the library, distracted from time to time by books that she wished to put by for perusal as soon as might be. Flora had embarked upon an ambitious plan of study, that required a deal of letters being sent to ask for recommendations of what she should read and orders to booksellers. They took healthful exercize walking in the gardens and the parkland.

The Vicar had come to call and so had his wife, and cards had been left by several ladies of the locality.

Dearest Flora, 'twould look particular and cause gossip, did we not go and return calls in proper fashion. Is’t not so, Verrie?

Mrs Veriker looked up from the household books. Oh, indeed we must, country places like this. Have I not heard dear Martha Samuels complain upon the necessity a thousand times?

I wonder might we keep hens, mused Flora, for when I read her little book upon her chickens I quite longed to do so.

She sure makes them sound a deal more fascinating than one supposes, said Hannah, but I am like to think that in a place like this, might be taken ill did we not buy our eggs from the local farms.

I daresay 'tis the diplomatic course.

The post was brought in. Hannah opened her letter from Julius and said, O, 'tis entire settled that they go to Nitherholme very shortly: but he asks may he come visit, along with Lord Sallington?

Flora looked up, a little colour coming to her cheeks. Why, she said, that would be quite entire agreeable, could not be the slightest objection to a visit from your brother and his friend, could there?

Indeed that would be pleasant, said Mrs Veriker, should greatly enjoy some converse with the younger Mr Roberts.

And, went on Flora, we might ask him about the gardens – I do not think we would wish to go into any ambitious schemes, but I should like to keep 'em up. And my letter, she added, is from Josh, that considers that he has learnt all he may of veterinary science from studying at the colleges in London and Edinburgh, and purposes go to make somewhat of a Grand Tour of the continental schools, and would wish pay us a visit afore he goes. But will go about the family and come here, I surmize, at the end of those rounds.

That will be delightful, said Hannah, feeling herself blush a little. Sure, she was not in love with anyone at all, but she had ever had a fondness for Josh, that had been so exceeding kindly a boy towards the nursery-set. And more recently she had observed him with his menagerie, and the cats of the household, and indeed stray dogs in the street, and seen how gentle his touch, how soothing to fractious or nervous creatures, and wondered how those hands might feel upon her.

sovay: (Viktor & Mordecai)
[personal profile] sovay
So while I had known for some time about Dolly Wilde, Oscar's niece, I had somehow never heard of the fellow ambulance driver with whom she had an affair in WWI Paris, Joe Carstairs. I am going to be neutral about their pronouns because I don't want to get them wrong—all the sources I'm finding treat Carstairs as female, and it's pretty narrow to think that short hair, tattoos, tailored suits, and speedboats automatically make a man, or at least not a woman, but when a person renames themselves "Joe" from "Marion" and says of themselves, "I was never a little girl. I came out of the womb queer," I feel I should try to take them at their word. It's easy to see why they attract biographers and Tumblr posts. The part where they ran an all-female driving service in London—"X Garage"—is pretty great. The part where they were the only one of Marlene Dietrich's lovers to call her "babe" and live is amazing. The part where they bought an island in the Bahamas and effectively ruled it for forty years is like something out of Conrad, which is a little harder to enthuse about, but it definitely is different.

Everybody else thought so, so I thought so, too. I would have liked me. )

And twenty minutes ago I'd had no idea. I love the people that history contains.

Not much cooking

Oct. 22nd, 2017 08:18 pm
oursin: The Accomplisht Ladies' Delight  frontispiece with a red cross through it (No cooking)
[personal profile] oursin

I made a Psomi loaf during the week, and brown grated apple rolls with molasses and mixed spice for Saturday breakfast.

And then last night my innards were in upheaval, a situation that continued for a substantial part of today, and I was not feeling like food or cooking it.

Frankfurt Book Fair 2017

Oct. 22nd, 2017 05:38 pm
selenak: (Claudius by Pixelbee)
[personal profile] selenak
Buchmesse 2017 photo 2017_1015Buchmesse0070_zpsvqqgdgqu.jpg



Two thoroughly exhausting (but mostly in a good way) weeks are behind me; first the Frankfurt Book Fair, then a workshop (in a splendid environment, but still, it was work from morning till night). Hence no posts; I could only get online very briefly.

Macron, Merkel, Rushdie, Atwood et all under the cut )

Phoning it in

Oct. 22nd, 2017 12:27 pm
oursin: Cod with aghast expression (kepler codfish)
[personal profile] oursin

Oh dear, another blooper from David Mitchell in this week's Observer New Review.

Or, at least, a classic case of writing about something before reading it properly.

The first was that Cambridge University lecture timetables are being labelled with “trigger warnings” about the plots of various literary works, including The Bacchae and Titus Andronicus. So English literature undergraduates are being protected from the knowledge of, among other things, what one of Shakespeare’s plays is about, in case it upsets them.
That is so not what the furore about this that I saw across my bits of social media was: what I saw was the push-back against the elitist assumption that eny fule already no that Titus Andronicus contains murder, rape, mutilation, and involuntary cannibalism (not to mention massive amount of racism).

And trigger-warnings aren't about protecting people from the knowledge that works of art contain disturbing material: they're precisely about letting people who haven't yet encountered them know that they contain material some people may find upsetting. Like the warnings you see at the beginning of a movie, just so you know what you're letting yourself in for.

And I'm really not sure that one can assume general cultural familiarity with one of the less-produced of Shakespeare's plays (the one that suggests that, had he been writing in the 1960s, he'd have been working for Hammer Horror - while some of the early comedies suggest also possibly moonlighting for the Carry On films, but I digress). Okay, there has been a movie version of the play itself, and Theatre of Blood alludes to it in one of the vengeances taken against the critics of the protag. But I doubt it's all that well-known to the individual on the Clapham omnibus.

(no subject)

Oct. 22nd, 2017 12:02 pm
oursin: Brush the Wandering Hedgehog by the fire (Default)
[personal profile] oursin
Happy birthday, [personal profile] gryphynshadow!

Ever-fixed mark (Part 3)

Oct. 22nd, 2017 10:44 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan

Next morning Hannah went into the hothouses to cut some flowers to replace a bloom here and there in the vases that went droop, and discovered her brother Julius about some matter of tending pots.

He smiled at her. What, not up and about with Miss Flora?

I daresay she sleeps in, to recover from her journey.

Indeed the Channel crossing will knock one up! But – he turned around with a serious expression upon his face – has she said aught about Beauf – Sallington’s – suit to her?

Not yet.

Only – he sighed – there is some notion of the Duke’s that Beauf might set up his own establishment at Nitherholme, and he was saying, did he do so, might I not go with him and do somewhat about the gardens, that were never particular tended to, save for the herb garden when Lady Jane resided there, and have been much neglected since then, one could have a free hand in doing the thing, 'tis not like Qualling or the grounds of Mulcaster House, so there would not be established gardeners jealous of their place and saying, has always been done thus and so –

Oh, Julius, surely you would love that!

Also, Julius went on with a longing look, 'tis moorland country thereabouts, and I confide would be an almost untrodden field for the botanist –

Sure all sounds entire ideal –

- but one must suppose that his plans would be different did he intend to go marry.

One had to know Julius extreme well to know that he was most extreme concerned about this matter. Indeed it would be a considerable advancement for him, and Hannah knew how great a friendship there had ever been 'twixt him and Lord Sallington. Certainly he might fear that marriage would cause a breach – but was it Flora, that had been part of the same nursery-set? how could that create a gulph?

And then she looked at her brother and wondered. Had she not had particular opportunity to observe the very fine manly affection that existed 'twixt His Lordship and Mr MacDonald?

Why, she said, I daresay Flora will tell me soon enough.

In the afternoon she climbed once more to their meeting place, where Flora was already sitting, clasping her arms about her knees in her old way. Hannah went to squeeze in beside her.

Dearest Hannah Clorinda, said Flora, sure there is a thing I am almost frighted to ask you: but has there been with you any matter of falling in love?

Hannah laughed. Fie, who should I go fall in love with?

Why, how should I know, being away so long?

Hannah looked sideways at Flora. Well, she said, resisting the desire to teaze, I will confess that I have the greatest admiration and, 'tis true to say, affection, towards His Lordship and Mr MacDonald, that are both always so very kind to me. But they are quite out of my sphere, and naught that I would go pine for – and indeed, sure I take the entire apprehension that 'twould be a very foolish thing to set my girlish hopes upon 'em.

You were ever a sensible creature, sighed Flora. For I find myself – found myself, mayhap I will discover that matters are different when we are no longer under the Italian sun, or strolling in balmy moonlight and a little smoky glow from the burning mountain – somewhat unexpected smitten.

She sighed once more. We encountered Quintus and his friends in Venice and it perchanced I saw a good deal of Beauf, and then we went our ways, and then we met once more in Naples, and I found myself in a considerable liking to him, and indeed he to me, and there was a mention of marriage, but I said that perchance we were beguiled by the exceeding romantic setting –

- but 'twas not just that concern that halted me from saying yes to his offer.

She looked down at her hands pressing together. O, dear, Hannah, I like him most extremely, but I greatly dislike the thought of being a duchess. For one sees his stepmother, a most excellent learned lady, that I daresay would greatly prefer to spend a deal more time in her study than her duties of rank permit, and does not complain, but will sometimes let little things drop – will come in from some occasion and say she has been about duchessing, with a twist of her mouth.

And then, my dearest Tiger - she looked sideways at Hannah, who kept her face entirely straight – why, what may I call her? She would not have me call her mama, says 'tis a title she would not steal from Mama, so 'tis a pet name ‘twixt the two of us. But she says, that one should ever think when contemplating marriage that the duties of marriage will include matters to do with one’s husband’s station or profession, if only by behaving proper to that – that is, does one marry a clergyman there is a deal of proper behaviour expected in the matter of church attendance and parish duties &C, almost to act the ancillary curate, and if one marries a doctor one does not gossip upon his patients any more than he would, and must not complain is he called out at all hours to some urgent case.

She leant her head upon Hannah’s shoulder. And said, sure one may see married couples that are entire partners, like unto Mama and Papa, or the Wallaces, or the Samuels, or as 'twas with the Verikers – oh, that was sad news – but indeed, she says, a woman does not always realize in advance what will come to her, but must adapt to circumstances.

And however fond and kind a husband may be, 'tis quite out of the common that he will go encourage her ambitions as Mr Lucas does, that insists that Mrs Lucas has her own study in the rectory. That she confides he would do even was there not the matter of her fortune in the balance.

She fell silent.

Also, she said at length, I like Beauf most extremely, but I have found that I am also given to finding other fellows agreeable, if only for a while. I daresay, she went on, you have read, or mayhap heard, the marriage service? That I confide is not in particular different among Methodists from what pertains in the Established Church – sure one hears that the Quakers do the matter differently –

Dearest Flora, 'tis unlike you to babble.

- and while there is a deal of matter in’t that one could mostly happily swear to, there are some things… even more than the forsaking all others, there is that dread word obey. And Tiger says I should mind what a deal of rights the law and custom assign to husbands, and how little to wives. Sure, she said, a woman – or her prudent advisors – may tie up any fortune she has, but there has to be that forethought took, and even then, there are husbands will endeavour come around their wives by persuasion or even violence.

Hannah sighed. Indeed 'tis so.

But the thing that I always come at, Flora continued, squeezing Hannah, is that I would not wish to be parted from you. And sure I find it hard to come at any way one might marry and still have one’s dearest friend about one. I suppose you might come be my companion, but – she planted a kiss upon Hannah’s head – I should dislike to put you in that position of dependency -

Oh, she cried, but I am a selfish fool! Doubtless you have your own plans and ambitions –

Why, said Hannah, I confide that although I lead a most exceeding pleasant existence here, undertaking the flowers for the house and tending to the library, 'tis not a course I may continue entirely indefinitely. And latterly I was discoursing of the matter to Mr MacDonald, and he advanced the thought that I might go make a living by my pen -

Why, my darling, indeed you might. For Mr MacDonald had most thoughtful laid by for us copies of The Intelligencer, marked up with matters of particular interest, and Tiger was most prepossessed by those pieces of yours on historical ladies.

Hannah felt herself blushing all over. But sure I did not see quite how I might come at that.

Flora clasped her knees again and rocked a little in the old wonted fashion when she was thinking something over.

At length she said, hesitantly, you know that Tiger has a fine property in Surrey -

O yes, Yeomans, 'twas where Mama met Papa –

Say you so! – 'twas let for many years to the Ulrichs, very fine people, some connexion of the Samuels, but at present stands empty, and she does not go seek new tenants until certain repairs and refurbishments are made. And it comes to me, might we not ask her could we go live there, and devote our lives to study and writing and doing somewhat about the parlous condition of womanhood - for I apprehend that 'tis not an entire out of the common thing, for two ladies to live together and pursue their interests, like Lady Emily Merrett and Miss Fenster at Attervale –

- but are they not somewhat older ladies, past their marriageable years?

O, now, but I have heard that Lady Emily was one of the belles of the Season when they first went there, her suitors were entire desolated.

O, said Hannah, longingly, surely that would be excellent fine, but I confide that there would be objections -

O, poo, to objections! said Flora. Do I go convoke with Tiger upon the business I daresay she will come at some way it might be contrived.

Hannah clutched Flora’s hand. O, Flora! I should like it of all things.

Dark femslash week : récapitulatif

Oct. 22nd, 2017 10:46 am
flo_nelja: (Default)
[personal profile] flo_nelja
Tout d'abord, j'ai reçu une bannière pour la comm ! Merci beaucoup ! Et merci à tous les participants ! Dites-moi si j'ai oublié un post en récapitulant !


Jour 1 : Non-con/Dubcon

Fics
[français, drabble] Cette femme en noir par malurette (Fullmetal Alchemist, Lust/Riza, M)
[français] Une fleur pour un amour perdu par Nelja (Namesake, Renge/Anlise, M)
[english] Picking Order by anysin (Star Wars Legends: Thrawn Trilogy, Mara Jade/Leia, E)
[français] La petite robe noire par Kandai (Supernatural, Jo/Meg, E)
[english] Turn A Blind Eye by Perlumi (Tokyo Ghoul, Kanae/Eto, M)
[english] It crept up on her by TreeFrogSoup (Zero no Tsukaima, Louise/Kirche, E)

Recs
[english] Fic recs (Torchwood, Greek Mythology, Heroes)


Jour 2 : Inceste

Fics
[français, drabble] Les attentes et la réalité par malurette (Fullmetal Alchemist, Olivia/Catherine, T)
[français] Pas de la bonne façon par Nelja (Souvenirs de Marnie, Anna/Marnie, PG-13)
[english] For Future Reference by anysin (Tekken, Anna/Nina, E)

Recs
[english] Fic recs (Naruto, Oniisama e, Harry Potter)
[english] Manga/anime rec: Oniisama e


Jour 3 : Relations abusives et différence de pouvoir

Fics
[français, drabble] Meilleure qu'elle n'était par malurette (Fullmetal Alchemist, Dante/Layla, T)
[français] Le soin de ses propriétés par Nelja (Fullmetal Alchemist, Dante/Roze, M)
[english] Feel Anything at All by Val_Creative (Harry Potter, Narcissa/Lily, T)
[english] Sweet Pretense by anysin (The Odyssey, Penelope/Servant girls, E)
[français] Les souvenirs derrière le voile par Nelja (Read or Die, Yomiko/Nancy, T)
[english] Untitled ficlet by Skyriazeth (Steven Universe, Jasper/Lapis)
[english] Moon Shines Red by Alexandria (Xena: Warrior Princess, Cyane/Xena, E)

Art
Untitled fanart by Perlumi (Steven Universe, Jasper/Lapis, PG)

Recs
[english] Fic recs (Doctor Who, Serial Experiments Lain, Shoujo Kakumei Utena)
[english] Webcomic rec: Lady of the Shard


Jour 4 : Personnages très jeunes ou grande différence d'âge

Fics
[français] Affolements nocturnes par Nelja (Card Captor Sakura, Tomoyo/Sakura, M)
[français, drabble] Ces enfants qui se prennent pour des adultes par malurette (Fullmetal Alchemist, Paninya/Izumi, T)
[english] Question of Standards by anysin (Kill Bill, O-ren Ishii/Gogo Yubari, M)
[français] La confusion des sentiments par Nelja (Steven Universe, Pearl/Connie, PG)

Recs
[français] Fic recs (Buffy contre les vampires, Contes)
[english] Book rec: Claudine à l'école (Colette)
[english] Anime/manga rec: Alien Nine


Jour 5 : Mort de personnage

Fics
[english] Dead Girl's Memory by anysin (Final Fantasy 7, Tifa/Aerith, T)
[français, drabble] Un sort injuste par malurette (Fullmetal Alchemist, Winry/Rose, K+)
[français] Le monde des vivants par Nelja (Mythologie hawaiienne, Hi'iaka/Hopoe, T)

Recs
[english] Fic recs (Noir, Greek mythology, Fullmetal Alchemist)
[english] Manga rec: Rg Veda


Jour 6 : Amour/haine

Fics
[français, drabble] Déceptions par malurette (Fullmetal Alchemist, Mei/Lan Fan, K+)
[français] Expiations par Nelja (Kushiel's Legacy, Phèdre/Mélisande, M)
[english] Dreams and fantasies by anysin (Smallville, Tess/Lois, M)

Recs
[english] Fic recs (Silmarillion, Penny Dreadful)
[english] Anime rec: Michiko e Hatchin
[english] Book rec: Kushiel's Legacy (Jacqueline Carey)


Jour 7 : Au choix

Fics
[français, drabble] Le malheur des uns par malurette (Fullmetal Alchemist, Maria/Gracia, K+)
[english] Like a Queen by Alexandria (Marco Polo, Chabi/Mei Lin, M)
[français] D'en bas on croit que c'est une aube qui point par Nelja (Oniisama e, Rei/Nanako, T)
[english] Welcoming Committee by anysin (Original fic, M)
[english] The Closest/Thing by Val_Creative (Tomie, Tomie/Ann, M)

Art
Untitled fanart by Skyriazeth (Steven Universe, Jasper/Lapis, PG)

Recs
[english] Fic recs (Naru Taru, Silmarillion, Lain)
[english] Anime rec: Noir
lilacsigil: 12 Apostles rocks, text "Rock On" (12 Apostles)
[personal profile] lilacsigil
Title: Movement and Stillness

Characters/Pairing: Breq/Seivarden unrequited

Fandom/Universe: Imperial Radch

Rating and Content Notes: Teen

Word count: 1760

Notes: Thanks to [personal profile] st_aurafina 2017.

Summary: Seivarden feels like she is still in stasis while Breq rushes onward, but there are two sides to every coin.

Movement and Stillness )

Also at AO3
sovay: (PJ Harvey: crow)
[personal profile] sovay
Today was very pleasant but very tiring. It has been a sleepless week, most of yesterday was a migraine, and I feel exhausted to the point of stupidity. In lieu of a movie I really need my brain for, here's one I can talk about while wanting to pass out.

Last October I watched but never wrote about Norman Foster's Woman on the Run (1950), a famously near-lost noir painstakingly restored by the UCLA Film & Television Archive and the Film Noir Foundation and released last year onto home media as a double bill with Byron Haskin's Too Late for Tears (1949). Part of the delay is that I liked but did not love the former film as I did the latter with its stone cold antiheroine and uncompromising final shot; this one suffers more from the congealing sexism of the nascent Fifties and as a result its emotional resolution leaves a tacky taste on my teeth and an inchoate longing for the advent of no-fault divorce. If you can bear with its limitations, however, Woman on the Run is worth checking out as a thoughtfully layered mystery and a fantastic showcase for Ann Sheridan as an unapologetically bitchy, unsentimentally sympathetic protagonist, a rare combination in Hollywood even now.

The 1948 source short story by Sylvia Tate was titled "Man on the Run" and the film begins with one: late-night dog-walker Frank Johnson (Ross Elliott) who takes a powder on learning that the murder he conscientiously reported—and witnessed at close enough range to know the killer again—was connected to a high-profile mob trial. A failed artist with a bad heart and a marriage that's been on the rocks almost since it launched, he looks tailor-made for the dark city, a loser coming up on his final throw. The camera doesn't follow him into the night-maze of San Francisco, though, to face or keep running from his demons in the kind of psychomachia at which an expressionist genre like noir so excels; instead the point of view switches almost at once to his estranged wife Eleanor (Sheridan), wearily deflecting the inquiries of the hard-nosed Inspector Ferris (Robert Keith, who will always look like Lieutenant Brannigan to me) with flat sarcastic cracks and an indifference so apparently genuine and total, it can take the audience a beat to recognize the depths of anger and resignation that underlie lines like "No, sometimes he goes to sleep and I walk the dog." Ever since Max Ophüls' The Reckless Moment (1949), I have been wary of assuming the limits of women in noir, but Eleanor still stands out for me in her flippant, abrasive intelligence and her willingness to look bad—she knows it shocks the conservative inspector that she isn't all housewifely concern for her man and she needles him with it, referring to the dog as their "only mutual friend" and dismissing the bare kitchen with "He's not particular and I'm lazy, so we eat out." Faced with the possibility that Frank has taken his brush with the underworld as an excuse to run out on his marriage, she's more than half inclined to let him. But she's not inclined to let him get killed, especially not playing star witness for a police force whose last star witness got whacked while Frank was watching, and so in the best traditions of amateur detecting, complete with dubious Watson in the form of "Legget of the Graphic" (Dennis O'Keefe), the flirty tabloid reporter who offered his services plus a thousand-dollar sweetener in exchange for exclusive rights to Frank's story, Eleanor sets out to find her missing husband before either the killer or a duty-bound Ferris can. He's left her a clue to his whereabouts, a cryptic note promising to wait for her "in a place like the one where I first lost you." In a relationship full of quarrels and frustrations, that could be anywhere, from their favorite Chinese hangout to the wharves of his "social protest period" to the tower viewers at the top of Telegraph Hill. Let the investigations begin.

I like this setup, which gives us the city as memory palace after all: Eleanor's memories of her relationship with Frank, what it was like when it was good and where it failed and how it might be reclaimed again, if she can only find him alive. She is almost being asked to perform a spell. And while I suppose she could have done it on the sympathetic magic of a Hollywood backlot, it is much more satisfying to watch her revisit real statues and sidewalks, real crowds unaware of the private earthquake taking place in their midst. Hal Mohr's cinematography is a street-level document of San Francisco in 1950, with a cameo by our old friend Bunker Hill; he can organize shadows and angles as effectively as the next Oscar-winning DP when he needs to, but he keeps the majority of the action on the daylit side of noir, the lived-in, working-class city with Navy stores and department stores and parks and piers and diners and lots of California sun, which only looks like it shows you everything. The literal roller-coaster climax was filmed at Ocean Park Pier/Pacific Ocean Park, last seen on this blog in Curtis Harrington's Night Tide (1960). Back at the Johnsons' bleak, hotel-like apartment, Eleanor mocked Ferris for "snoop[ing] into the remains of our marriage," but increasingly it seems not to be as cold a case as she thought. Going back over old ground, she discovers new angles on her missing person; nondescript in his introductory scenes and ghostly in his own life, Frank Johnson becomes vivid in absence, hovering over the narrative like Harry Lime in Carol Reed's The Third Man (1949) or the title character of Otto Preminger's Laura (1944) until his wife begins to see a curiously attractive stranger in the place of a man whose familiarity had long since bred hopelessness. To fall in love with someone who might already be dead, to find someone in the process of losing them, these are the kinds of irony that noir thrives on and Woman on the Run derives as much tension from the audience's fear that irony will carry the day as it does from the actual unknowns of the plot, the killer's identity, Frank's status, Eleanor's own safety as her sleuthing calls for ever more active deception of the police and reliance on Legget, who keeps saying things like "I'm sorry I was so rude a moment ago, but it's always discouraging to hear a wife say that her husband loves her." He is another unexpected element, not without precedent but nicely handled. In most genres, his pushy charm and his genial stalking of Eleanor would mark him as the romantic hero, or at least an appealing alternative to a husband so avoidant he couldn't even tell his own wife when he was diagnosed with a serious heart condition. Here, with a triangle already established between Eleanor and the husband she knows and the husband she doesn't, the reporter is a fourth wheel at best and the audience hopes he accepts it. Without a reciprocating spark, it's not as cute as he thinks when he encourages Eleanor to call him "Danny Boy" ("People who like me call me Danny Boy") or leads her casually under the same wooden coaster where he used to bring dates, his contribution perhaps to the film's romantic psychogeography.

Honestly, I don't even dislike the resolution on the strict level of plot. By the time Eleanor realizes that the place where I first lost you isn't a bitter dig at a bad memory but a hopeful allusion to a good one, the audience is sufficiently invested in the reunion of these long-fractured lovers—despite the fact that we've never once seen them together, even in photographs or Frank's sketches and paintings—that to frustrate it would feel deliberately unfair, although of course in noir that never rules anything out. They're both taking chances, not just with their lives but their hearts. Frank who always runs away is standing his ground, risking being found by a gunman and a partner he's disappointed. Eleanor who has built such prickly defenses is lowering them, making herself reach out rather than preemptively rebuff. You want to see that kind of bravery rewarded, even when heart conditions and prowling killers aren't involved. What I dislike in the extreme is the film's attitude toward this conclusion. In its examination of the Johnsons' marriage, the facts of the script assign plenty of blame to Frank, an artist too scared of failure to try for success, a husband who retreated from his wife as soon as he felt that he'd let her down, a man who could talk about his feelings to everyone but the woman he was living with. The dialogue, however, insists repeatedly that the ultimate success or collapse of a marriage is the woman's responsibility—that it must be Eleanor's fault that her marriage went south, that she wasn't patient or understanding or supportive enough, that she has to be the one to change. It's implied in some of her encounters; in others it's stated outright. Inspector Ferris constantly judges her as a wife and a woman, even once asking "Didn't your husband ever beat you?" when she tells him to back off. He's the dry voice of authority, the hard-boiled but honest cop; I want to believe that Eleanor is decoying him when she apologizes for not believing his criticism sooner ("I guess I was the one who was mixed up—a lot of it's my fault anyway—I haven't been much of a wife"), but I fear we're meant to take her at face value. He's too active in the film's ending not to be right. Hence my wistful feelings toward California's Family Law Act of 1969. Sheridan's acting carries her change of heart from resolutely not caring to clear-eyed second chance, but I almost wish it didn't have to. At least she has a good rejoinder when Frank queries their future together, wry as any of her defensive cracks: "If this excitement hasn't killed you, I'm sure I can't."

The movies with which Woman on the Run links itself up in my head are Robert Siodmak's Phantom Lady (1944) and Roy William Neill's Black Angel (1946), both stories of investigating women with ambiguous allies and ghostly romantic patterns; Sheridan's Eleanor is a harder, less conventionally likeable protagonist than either Ella Raines' Kansas or June Vincent's Cathy, which may account for why the patriarchy comes down on her with such personified, decisive disapproval, or it may be the distance from wartime, or it may be some other idiosyncratic factor that still annoys me. The fact that I can read the ending as happy rather than rubber-stamped heteronormativity is due almost entirely to Sheridan, who never loses all of Eleanor's edges any more than she slips out of her angular plaid overcoat into something more comfortable, plus the final cutaway to the Laughing Sal on the lit-up midway, rocking back and forth as if a husband and wife embracing is some great joke. Maybe it is. What makes this couple, so fervently clinging to one another, so special? He writes a nice love-note. She climbs out a skylight like nobody's business. They named their dog Rembrandt. This reunion brought you by my particular backers at Patreon.

Woman on the Run
oursin: Cod with aghast expression (kepler codfish)
[personal profile] oursin

Okay, this guy is clearly in a state of confusion: I’m in a kind of love triangle and am so confused about what to do.

But, really:

It has got to a point now that I have told my girlfriend that we need to have a break so I can sort myself out. She has moved out and I do miss her a lot.... The space away from my girlfriend, I hope, would make me realise that she is the one for me and come back to her in a happier place where I feel I can be happy and give 100%.

Whereas she is probably busily blocking his number and any contact they have on social media and telling her friends not to pass any details on.

I mean, I think Annalisa Barbieri is right that probably neither of these women is The One and he is just trying to make one of them The One because he wants to Settle Down, but I do wonder if at least the girlfriend, if not the ex, is going to wait around for him to get his head together, and it's not so much a question of he should break up with both of them, but that he is likely to find himself broken up with.

Let him go, let him tarry:

Ever-fixed mark (Part 2)

Oct. 21st, 2017 10:17 am
the_comfortable_courtesan: image of a fan c. 1810 (Default)
[personal profile] the_comfortable_courtesan

So, much later, Hannah climbed up to the deserted attic of the west wing of Raxdell House, and out onto the flat part of the roof 'twixt chimney-stacks, to find Flora already there, changed out of her finery into one of her old schoolroom dresses.

O, Hannah, she said a little tearfully, I thought you might not come.

Why should I not come?

Sure I am a foolish creature, but I have been hearing so much about how you go take care of the library, and are quite entire Mr MacDonald’s pupil in philosophy and a deal of other matters, sure you become the blue-stocking, while I have been about the frivolity of travel.

'Tis not what your letters led me to apprehend, said Hannah, sitting down upon a ledge and patting the place beside her. Was a deal of good thinking about what you saw and society and politics and history, 'twas no account of balls and flirtations and parties of pleasure.

Why, will not deny that there were plenty of those as well, said Flora, sitting down beside Hannah and putting her arm around her as she had ever been wont. But sure I should have liked to have you there, though indeed I now apprehend why there was such a to-do when I proposed you should come.

She looked down at her feet and sighed. I have learnt a deal of matters about things that concern me and those close to me. She fell silent.

Some considerable while later she said, but I would desire disclose 'em to you, my other self, 'tis why I wished come here where we may be quite private and none may overhear.

You need not, said Hannah, is't some matter of family secrets (had she not once heard some spiteful gossip that Flora was a cuckoo in the nest, no child of Josiah Ferraby’s but of some adventure of his wife’s? She did not believe it – was there not the finest fondness 'twixt the pair of 'em, did not Flora greatly resemble her father – but mayhap she was mistook.)

No, indeed I must - 'tis a very beautiful thing – indeed I feel myself proud - She stood up and looked about her. Sure I am foolish – none ever comes into those attics save to spring-clean once a year, and 'tis not the time for the chimneys to be swept.

Why, said Hannah, one may see through the skylight, grimy though 'tis, that the attic is quite entire deserted - there is no reason for any to come nigh -

I know, I am foolish, but the secret is not all mine to disclose.

Come sit down, then, and whisper in my ear as we were wont.

Flora gave a little smile and came to sit down again. She put her arm back around Hannah and leant towards her. I am Aunty Clorinda’s child, she whispered.

Hannah turned her head. Why, now one had heard it, one saw that Flora was very much of Lady Bexbury’s colouring, and none of the other Ferrabys was so fair. And sure Lady Bexbury had always manifested the very greatest fondness for her god-daughter –

But – she began in a low voice – who –

Oh, indeed Papa is my father. 'Tis somewhat of a long story, but it came about that poor Mama was very poorly indeed after being brought to bed with Quintus – and was advised that she should have no more – and very greatly yearned even so – and when it happened that Aunty Clorinda, that was not at that time Marchioness of Bexbury, went with child, she loved Mama so much, and thought that she would make a much better mother than she would, and I should be in a family with loving brothers and sisters, that she gave me to her –

Hannah frowned a little. But one could see that Lady Bexbury and the elder Ferrabys had quite the finest affection between them, that Lady Bexbury and Lady Ferraby were an entire model of fine female friendship –

- but indeed, part of the plan for this Grand Tour was that so she and I might spend some time alone together, and that she might tell me all this – though sure she had some hesitation, 'twas not until we were come unto Naples that she brought herself to come out with it. And – o, I do not know, mayhap 'tis possible your own mama has told you somewhat of how matters were before Aunty Clorinda married the Marquess? – but indeed I could see why she might suppose it the better course.

I was a deal put about at first, Flora went on, but then I thought what a fine upbringing I had, how much I love Mama and Papa, and how loving Aunty Clorinda always showed to me and to the others, would come romp in the nursery when we were little &C.

Hannah smiled. Would come be your tiger, and your wombatt. She squeezed Flora and Flora squeezed back.

But – o, there is more that happened, and things I should wish talk over with you, but sure I do not wish to drown you. Might we convoke here again in a day or so?

One did not often hear Flora so hesitant in making a request. Hannah kissed her friend, her other self, and said, tomorrow, do you wish.

And, said Flora, I should wish to hear all that you have been about.

Hannah smiled and said, sure ‘twas arranging flowers, and keeping the library in order, and a deal of reading. Little enough to tell.

'Tis not what I hear! – that Mr MacDonald goes lecture at the college in Gower Street, and that he practises over what he will say with you, sure, my darling, you are entirely acquiring a university education.

Hannah felt herself blushing. Why, I do not think the matter is beyond the feminine intellect; and indeed we have much fine talk of history and philosophy and the progress of the natural sciences.

We must speak further of this, said Flora in her old downright manner, but indeed I must go dress, for the entire family comes dine, save of course for Josh

Do I not know it! Mama is entirely about seeing that everyone’s favourite dish is served.

Hannah watched Flora scamper away, climbing down entirely in her old hoyden-girl fashion and not as if she was a fine young lady of fashion that had travelled and was being (was Julius right in so thinking) being wooed by a duke’s son.

She sighed, and more slowly made the descent herself.

flo_nelja: (Default)
[personal profile] flo_nelja
Titre : D'en bas on croit que c'est une aube qui point
Auteur : [personal profile] flo_nelja
Fandom : Oniisama e
Couple : Rei/Nanako, mention de Rei/Fukiko
Genre : Angst
Résumé : Rei est malade, et Nanako est venue prendre soin d'elle ; Rei pense à la mort.
Rating : PG-13
Disclaimer : Tout appartient à Riyoko Ikeda
Nombre de mots : ~600
Notes : Ecrit pour la dark femslash week, et aussi pour le thème "Abandonment" de ladiesbingo. Avertissements pour mention de suicide.

Read more... )

[MA, gastronomy] Moar Ghoti?

Oct. 20th, 2017 08:51 pm
siderea: (Default)
[personal profile] siderea
Locals,

I have a friend coming from out-of-town – from one of those more landlocked places – who would like to go out for seafood. I'm abashed to admit, my answer to the question of where I go for seafood around here is "New Hampshire", which is not compatable with our plans. I am nursing a grudge against Legal, and just about all the places I used to go are out of business.

They're a foodie, will be staying in Somerville, and will be getting around on the T.

Where should we go?

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kindkit

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