That deepest, darkest part of the internet.

I have no idea what to write, my brain is dead since essays, I haven't read much recently, or at least not finished any books. And there's no way you could make me say another word on Homer and his flipping epic poetry for a long, long time So I'm going to go a bit off-kilter today and talk about the dreaded area of the internet that is Fanfiction. It’s certainly a guilty pleasure of mine: I don’t deny I would be a much better student had I never discovered the magical Archive of our Own (AO3) and all the angsty goodness it provides between actual episodes of Sherlock.

(My housemate asked to borrow my laptop while I had all my research for this up. It was the most tense 30 seconds of my time here)

Fanfiction is not a new concept, it existed before the internet did, though the internet, and sites such as AO3 and Fanfiction.net certainly helped to spread its popularity. Several large books series (James Bond, Hitchhikers, and Sherlock Holmes) have been continued following the Author’s death, when I worked in a bookshop last year one of the most popular books we were selling was William Boyd’s Solo which was a new James Bond book. Surely these can be considered a form of fanfiction? How about the novel ‘Pride and Prejudice and Zombies’ or ‘The Hound of the D’Urbervilles’ which is a retelling of the Sherlock Holmes works from Moriarty’s side? Fanfiction is not just hidden in the deep dark corners of the internet, it’s out there, in bookshops and on bookshelves. You can’t hide. Though the numbers of these in no way compare to the (literally) millions of works on the internet. If I ask AO3 for Sherlock fanfiction, there are nearly 75,000 results. It’s insane.

I have no explanation for the internet’s obsession with slash fiction. It just is. I am (unashamedly) a part of this, though I only have one pairing I really fangirl over (My beautiful Sebastian Moran and James Moriarty), if you have a pairing you think ought to be, it will exist, I promise you. And it will have a name. Try ‘Spirk’ (Spock/Kirk) or ‘Johnlock’ (Figure it out…) Heck, for the purpose of this blog post I went looking for pairings and even (Horrifyingly) found graphic fanfiction about the Fourth Doctor getting John Watson pregnant (?!!!!!). I didn't say all fanfiction was good. There are words I will never look at in the same way again. *Shudders*. There is also a weird obsession with incest. Sam and Dean Winchester, Sebastian and Severin Moran, I don’t understand this. It’s so wrong, but sometimes it just works.

Some of it, however, is amazing. And we should certainly give the author’s credit for their achievements. As I mentioned, most of the fanfiction I look for is Sherlock (MorMor stuff) and there is a fic within this fandom that is revered; Pasiphile’s ‘These Violent Delights’. At 168,000 words (considering The Hunger Games is just over 101,000) this story has everything, it’s well written, creative, and quite honestly elicited more of an emotional response from me than many published stories. It’s amazing (and probably does a much better job of smutty goodness and manipulative relationships than that infamous Fifty Shades of Grey. Seriously.)

I want to say a brief word on AU fiction, because I find it quite fun. Most of my favourite fics are set in the canon universe and I never thought I’d like anything else, but I found an author on AO3 who does some amazing Moriarty/Moran AU fics. I’ve loved them as soldiers, rock stars, even ballet dancers. Its quite interesting to see the characters in different settings.

Is it wrong and damaging to the industry? Probably not. Some authors are very much against it, George R R Martin, for example and Anne Rice of Interview with a Vampire fame, claiming that it breaks copyright laws and undermines the author ect, ect… but in reality I think it’s pretty harmless. It might even evoke more of an interest in something. The stories found on AO3 rarely claim to be canonical, and will never be a part of the original. It’s just a bit of fun. An extension of the fiction written by and for the fans. Honestly, look me in the eye and tell me that JK Rowling is ever going to write her own story of the blossoming romance between Minerva McGonagall and Draco Malfoy. (It exists on AO3). And if she did, nobody would claim it was anything other than her creation.

In conclusion. Fanfiction, while often utterly filthy, sometimes awful and nearly always plain weird, is ultimately just a bit of fun. It’s not harmful to an author’s reputation, it might actually be a compliment. And if you come from a fandom that gets just three episodes every 18 months, sometimes fanfiction is all we have. It fills the gaps, expands the fandom, explores the characters, and is often just as well written as many of the best books.

To prove my point, watch this (Very amusing) video of the cast of X-Men on Graham Norton talking about fanart and Fanfiction. 

I cannot believe I just wrote so much on fanfiction. Please don’t judge me. 

Emily

Links:
Pasiphile – These Violent Delights

AU Author: Bakerstreetashtray
The Barre (Ballet AU)

Rust Red Skies (Military AU)

After The High (Rockstar AU)

How do I define History? It's just one F***ing thing after another.

So, my first post of the year. I had essays, I have an excuse for being absent, but I’m quite excited about today’s post.

Today I want to discuss one of my favourite films.

Yes, I know this is supposed to be a literature post, but hear me out. Because this film reminds me exactly what it is I adore about books and history, and how they intertwine. And this film is the stage-screen adaptation of Alan Bennett’s The History Boys. I’ll tell you that if I ever got around to writing up a bucket list, being in a production of The History Boys would be somewhere near the top. I don’t care about the all-male casting, this is the twenty-first century, I want to play one of the boys – they’re fascinating characters. Dakin and Posner and Akhtar and Scripps and Lockwood and Rudge and Crowther and Timms are brilliant. If my limited history in theatre has told me anything, it's that I'm not afraid to play a male character.

If anything, watch it for the cast, loads of whom you will recognise! James Corden, Dominic Cooper), the Late Richard Griffiths, Samuel Anderson, Francis De La Tour, Penelope Wilton, Russell Tovey, Steven Campbell-Moore and loads of other faces you’ll recognise.

I think The History Boys struck a chord with me when I saw it, because at the time when I discovered it I was writing my personal statement, just like the boys I was fighting for a place to study History at university, and this play told me exactly what it was I was feeling this innate love of books and history and learning that was what I wanted to describe but never had the words;

"The best moments in reading are when you come across something - a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things - that you'd thought special, particular to you. And here it is, set down by someone else, a person you've never met, maybe even someone long dead. And it's as if a hand has come out, and taken yours." – Hector

And to apply it to history it’s all about having those ‘gobbets’ (Quotes) ready, even if you don’t understand the quotes (As our dear Scripps says in the play ‘Most of the stuff poetry’s about hasn’t happened to us yet’), When you do finally come to understand the feelings, you’ll have the gobbets ready. Mr Hector teaches us in the play that he “would hate to turn out boys who, in later life, would claim to have a love of literature, or speak of the lure of language, and their love of words.” is rather eccentric General Studies classes are to make the boys more rounded individuals, he calls it ‘Sheer, calculated silliness.’

One of the things I love about this play is the idea of knowledge for knowledge’s sake. I pride myself in ‘useless’ knowledge, quotes and poems and random information that will never come up in exams or tests or probably even a pub quiz but it’s there and I can use it where I want, drop it into conversation or make doodles from it in my notebook. I can tell you the opening lines of dozens of books, I can name the horses of great military leaders throughout the years and I can tell you the name of the man who was Trotsky’s bodyguard during a failed assassination. This film teaches me that this sort of knowledge isn't entirely without purpose. I’m full of gobbets, prepared for anything the world throws at me. Some of them even come from this film, it’s rather quotable, and with Samuel Barnett’s stunning renditions of Bye Bye Blackbird, Bewitched Bothered and Bewildered and L’Accordiniste. But also the rather jolly chant;

Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye!
Cheerio; Here I go! One my way!
Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye!
Not a tear, but a cheer, make it gay!

(I’ll admit I've been singing this all week)

But the play is more than just about books or history, it’s about a clash of modern and old education, when the young Mr Irwin is brought in to polish the boys up for Oxbridge he is taken aback by their ability to sprout facts and poetry and having learned the endings to different films, knowledge to them is a game and they always have a gobbet ready to throw at everything he says, the boys are very different students under Irwin and Hector and when they share a class the boys freeze ‘We don’t know whose class we are, sir, Yours, or Mister Hector’s’.

It’s about learning about oneself, growing up, the boys are all very different: from Sporty Rudge who, when asked to define history, comes up with the marvelous quote I used for the title this week; to the outrageous Dakin who quickly manages to understand the game Mr Irwin is playing with them, he’s the leader of the group, smart and probably dangerous. They all come from different religious backgrounds too. Though, the fact they are grammar school candidates trying for Oxbridge does suggest an upper middle class background. All of them, despite this shared education, lead very different lives, shown to us in a horribly touching scene at the end, the boys become everything from tax lawyers to launderette owners, young Lockwood was killed by friendly fire just 28. 

A rather lovely line comes from young Posner, the most naïve of the group as he talks with the closeted Irwin;

Posner: Do you ever look at your life, Sir?
Irwin; I thought everyone did.
Posner: I'm a Jew, I'm small, I'm homosexual, and I live in Sheffield. I'm fucked.

Finally, the play is about failure, to a certain extent, and betrayal. Things don’t turn out the way they’re meant to, and the boys, though they adore Mr Hector, are having to hide the fact that he’s a sexual predator. Right at the end, all the boys get into Oxbridge but then, after giving Irwin a ride on his motorbike, Mr Hector is killed, at his funeral we listen to the headmaster telling them about Hector’s love of Literature and words, which we already know he would have hated. We learn then about the fates of the boys, Lockwood is dead, Scripps takes drugs…  I believe in the book poor Posner has a breakdown (in the film he becomes a teacher) that’s not how it was meant to end. And we are left with another of Hector’s gobbets to consider, about the purpose of education;

"Pass the parcel. That's sometimes all you can do. Take it, feel it and pass it on. Not for me, not for you, but for someone, somewhere, one day. Pass it on, boys. That's the game I want you to learn. Pass it on."

Oh, like all books I could write so much more on this, I absolutely adore this film, I could go into the ideas on homosexuality and the ideas of the mistelling of history and so much more. But no, I’ll leave it here. I may revisit the play once I have read it and seen the differences from the film.

Emily.

On the Ning Nang Nong, where the cows go Bong!

It is Christmas eve, so I doubt anybody is going to read this, but Happy Christmas, one and all! I hope Santa is kind to you.

(Also, I found out this week that my final grade in A Level Literature was an 'A', so I feel officially awesome enough to talk about literature on Wednesdays!)

I am writing this issue whilst listening to the Comedy genius of John Finnemore in the final episode of the Radio 4 sitcom Cabin Pressure. So in honour of the occasion, I want to talk about another comedy genius, the fantastic Spike Milligan.

If you've heard the name before, it was probably in reference to his gravestone, the immortal words 'I told you I was ill' inscribed in Celtic upon the stone. A brilliant man, a bizarre and yet wonderful sense of humour and with a cynical wit that was totally unparralelled, he wrote comedy in the form f poetry, plays, doodles, and several years of TV and radio comedy including the famous 'Goon Show'. Recently some clips of his comedy show 'Q' have been played on the BBC, so if you want to look on iPlayer, they'll be there.

Born 1918, Milligan grew up in India to a military family, and moved to London some time later, he fought in WW2 and after suffering a severe blow to the head was later invalided out of the army for mental health reasons. He suffered severe bouts of depression all the rest of his life although he claimed that the two were not related. He often referenced the war in his works, especially his poetry;

There was a young soldier
who went off to the war
which is the thing
that soldiers are made for
But then that little soldier
was blown to bits, was he.
All for his king
he did this thing:
how silly can you be?

Milligan's mental health was a very pblic affair, at a time when such things were only just starting to be treated correctly he was one of the first men willing to discuss his mental health in interviews and in the media, he even tried to explan it in his poems (See: Manic Depression Writting during his stay in hospital). And he was unafraid to make a statement and be outrageous in his works, whether it be political or environmental or whatever. His sketch 'Pakistani Dalek' is only a fine example of this, or this poem;

Said prince Charles
when they placed
the crown on his head
I suppose this means
that Mummy's dead.

But, mostly, it is Milligans randomness that makes him so wonderful, the strange little ditties and wordplay that came out of a desire to connect with his children after his divorce. And so I shall leave you with such a poem; thos is one of my favourite poems, and was shown to me by my dad, who picked up a random book in a shop in Swansea thirty years ago and also found it brilliant. The book was 'The Essential Spike Milligan' and I have it next to me as I write this having stolen it from his shelf and adored it. And the poem was 'Silly Old Baboon'. It's daft, random and witty, quite refreshing after a lot of heavy poetry being studied this year, and I hope it puts you all in a good mood for Christmas!

There was a baboon
Who one afternoon
Said I think I will fly to the sun
So with great palms
strapped to his arms
he started he takeoff run

Mile after mile
He galloped in style
But never once left the ground
You’re going too slow said a passing crow
Try reaching the speed ofsound

SO
he put on a spurt
My God how it hurt
both the soles of his feet caught on fire
As he went through a stream
There were great clouds of steam
Buthe never got any higher

On and on through the night
both his knees caught alight
clouds of smoke billowed out of his rear!!!
Quick to his aid
Were the fire brigade
They chased him for over a year

Many moons passed by
Did Baboon ever fly
Did he ever get to the sun
I’ve just heard today,
he’s well on his way
He’ll be passing through Acton at one.

PS – well, what do you expect from a baboon?

Merry Christmas! I know this was short and vague again, I'll try and be a bit more up to scratch in the new year once I'm back in Cardiff and Christmas is out the way.

Emily.

Words on Wednesdays - TFIOS!

Today I am writing my post with blistered hands after my first proper riding lesson in near six years. Good fun, but I am going to ache tomorrow!
This week's challenge is to be positive, to talk about things you are passionate about. Books are a big passion of mine, I'll move on to discuss The Fault in our Stars in just a moment, but first I want to say a little bit about my main passion; DOCTOR WHO.

I have no idea who any of the other people in this picture are,
they were very keen we should have a picture together...

This is quite a good week for it, the finale of Series 8 will be airing this Saturday, and on the same day I shall be joining forces with my friends here in beautiful Cardiff for Cardiff Comic-Con; we have cosplays ready as the eleventh Doctor, Clara and the TARDIS - I can't wait! Look at my fabulous 11th Dr Costume which I wore first in 2013:
50 years on, Sci-Fi's longest running show is just as fabulous as ever.

Right, onwards to TFIOS.
(NB - SPOILER ALERT)

What is important to remember about this book, and John Green's wonderful characters Hazel Grace Lancaster and Augustus Waters, is that they are in no way special. And especially not just because because they are sick, this is not a book about sickness, it is a book about love, and living the life you want to despite illness, not defined by it. Hazel and Gus are NOT special in the grand scheme of things, they are not going to be remembered because they are just an ordinary boy and girl who by pot luck got the short end of the stick and their lives end prematurely. Augustus Waters' acutely aware of his insignificance in the grand scheme of things, puts this very nicely;

"Anyone can name fourteen dead people. But we're disorganized mourners, so a lot of people end up remembering Shakespeare, and no one ends up remembering the person he wrote Sonnet Fifty-five about.” 

Or, of course, you need only to look at the title to see where I am coming from - the original quote from Julius Ceasar (Shakespeare) reads;

"The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, But in ourselves, that we are underlings."

I.e - There is no grand scheme that has screwed them over, it's just dumb luck and we would be fools to treat it any differently.
Now that we have moved very far away from the idea that Hazel and Augustus are what I would refer to as 'Special little snowflakes' we can look at the novel on a podium somewhere among the great Love stories. Hazel and Gus are special to each other, ('you gave me an infinity within the numbered days' - what a romantic line!) and that is what matters. It is a dysfunctional romance, yes. not ideal in every way, namely Hazel's very present and literal baggage in the form of her gas canister and Gus's premature death, but if you list all the great novels commonly associated with love, you might notice that serious flaws is a recurring theme...

Jane Eyre - He's still married, the ex lives in the attic.
Romeo and Juliet - Lasts five days, six people die including the double suicide of the titular lovers.
Lolita - Thirty-something stepfather becomes sexually obsessed with twelve year old girl. 
Paris and Helen of Troy - She runs off with him and her husband starts a ten year war.
The Great Gatsby - Gatsby is living in a dream world where he and (Now married) Daisy can follow the (metaphorical) American Dream. Ends in, again, double murder

You get my point. Despite their... issues... these, and TFIOS, are still counted as the worlds greatest love stories. I'm certain Gus would have something to say about the metaphorical resonance here. Flaws are overlooked and The Fault in our Stars succeeds in John Green's aim to 'argue for [sick people's] humanity by giving them a love story to rival the greats. And with a stunningly beautiful love quote modeled by Bryony on Monday:

'I fell in love the way you fall asleep - slowly, and then all at once...'

A sub theme of the story is the idea that we have a (albeit limited) choice on the impact we have within our own little part of the world. Gus and Hazel take very different approaaches to this, with Hazel trying to 'minimise the casualties' that will be caused by her inevitable death and Augustus desperate to 'leave [his] mark on the world', ensuring that he has a pre-funeral to ensure he has done this (by affecting his friends). His posthumous letter to Hazel suggests he is pleased with the way he has shaped his life, his own little part of the world. 

“You don't get to choose if you get hurt in this world...but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices.”

I hope you liked my short and sweet piece on this marvelous book, remember you don't have to agree with my opinion, this is one nineteen year old's view on the novel, not the definite answer!

Ooh, also, Today is the Fifth November, so I shall leave you with the following parting words, and I hope you all go out and enjoy the annual celebration of the defeat of insolent and violent Catholicism! ((Please don't take this as my religious view, but that is literally what Bonfire night is; the Protestants showing off that they are better than the Catholics))

- Emily

Remember, Remember the Fifth of November
Gunpowder, Treason and Plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder, treason
Should ever be forgot.

Walking in the footsteps of a Stranger

This weeks quote is a commonly replicated theme throughout literature. And since We had a bit of History last week I think some book talk is due.
Of course the most famous versions of this quote is Atticus Finch in Haper Lee's much loved and socially important novel To Kill a Mockingbird. When he tells his young daughter Scout not to judge the cruel, racist and bad tempered Bob Ewell: 

"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.' - Atticus Finch, TKAM

This is the advice by which Atticus tries to live his whole life, in pursuit of the truth and justice, it is a difficult concept for a young child to grasp despite her best efforts. The story ends, and the reader finally comprehends what Scout has learned over the course of the novel, once she takes a look at the world from the position of the mysterious Boo Radley. She imagines many of the key events in the book (her father shooting the rabid dog, the children finding Boo's presents) and she is at last able to understand the protection this stranger has offered her through the horrible time she has suffered in the book.

On a reader's level, Atticus' advice is of some comfort to us in the face of the prejudice and hardships faced by the characters of the novel. For example, we come to sympathise with Mayella Ewell, who lied about being raped by Tom Robinson to protect her young siblings/children and avoid the wrath of her father. (The relationship is somewhat blurry).

Moving away from the novel, being able to see thing's from another's viewpoint, to understand why another person might act as he does, is a very important feature of literature itself. Anyone who enjoys reading has at some point had an emotional outburst (whether sadness, anger, happiness) at a character we have never met and don't really know. Because for the time we are engrossed into that book, we are walking in their footsteps, seeing their world as they see it. We even come to love very dislikable characters, because by walking in their footsteps we might understand their actions.

It doesn't fit with the rest of my post, but since it is the challenge, I must talk about my favourite film:
Without a doubt, hands down, my favourite film is The Lord of The Rings. Ever since I was very young I have adored the idea of mythical races and in particular the elves, when I was seven I took up horse riding because I desperately wanted to be just like Legolas and even today I ride because of the thrill I feel when I can imagine I am a part of that world. Every day I wear my Leaf of Lorien as a reminder. Beautiful films, very fantastically made, they deserve every credit.

I'm afraid it's a rather short post this week due to time restraints, but I hope you understood the message.
Emily