Dec. 31st, 2014

karanguni: (Default)
I am going to make a single post for a single rec for a fandom (?) that I know close to nothing about because it was just that damned good:

Αἱ ἡμεραι ὑπο κυνα ἐτελευτησαν, or: Exercise 66 (6090 words) by Anonymous
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Greek Prose Composition - M. A. North & A. E. Hillard
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

ὠ παλαι, ὠ παλαι
ἐν τινι κοσμω ἐκτοπωτατω...

(story in English. Excuse the lack of iota subscripts above.)

So, you know nothing much about the classics (or you know a lot; even better), but you want a good romp, some excellent writing, a taste of space opera, a shot of great character voice, all of it contained in less than a million words. Then you want to go read this.

--- [edit: I tell a lie; here's another]

First Steps (11207 words) by Anonymous
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: The Culture - Iain M. Banks
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: GOU Falling Outside The Normal Moral Constraints, Lededje Y'breq, Original Female Character(s), Original Male Character(s), Original Non-Human Character(s)
Additional Tags: Minds (Culture), Drones (Culture), Crimes & Criminals, Childhood, Artificial Intelligence, Surface Detail, Cameos, Meet the Family, Special Circumstances

"Did I design you a warship or a party clown, child?"

Amazingly well done piece on Demeisen and Led; great character voices; great OCs; like a little slice of Banks. It’s almost impossible to write good Culture fic without a million words, or with a million words too many: this one cuts it right down the centre with meatiness of content and economy in a world where space-operas can sprawl for untold pages. It’s poignant and smart and clever as can be, and if you’ve read Surface Detail at all you’re missing out not reading this.

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A universe of unmapped grief and love
And new master light is beyond
The pleiades and plow and southern stars.

O soaring
Icarus of outworld, burn bright
The traceries of known skymarks,
Slide the highway planets behind
Your clear waxed wings.

Go conquer the everywhere left
Beyond your sad confinement
In a predicted bonehouse,
Witch thrown riddle of flesh
And water.

O soar until nothing
remains but great glittering holes
In the black godspun shirt over your head.

- John Fairfax