My life scarcely seems my own anymore, and I'm so behind on reading, reccing, commenting, answering comments, having fannish conversations. So before I stumble out the door again (possibly after ripping the phone from the wall and burying it in a nearby field), I want to throw a handful of recs out to my flist. Some of these have been recced before, but oh well. I'm here to rec them again. Because, God. So much love. I must share while I can.
First, because I finished reading it at 2 o'clock this morning, which I shouldn't have done but couldn't help:
The Sin in Your Grin (and the Shape of Your Mouth) by Anonymous, posted last night for the
dysfuncentine challenge, totally knocked me down and ate me up. Let's get two small nits out of the way, because they hardly matter: for me, the title doesn't match the tone of the fic, and I'm not known for my taste in Snack. Never mind. This story has shot up into my permanent pantheon on a single delirious reading. Writing like this turns me into an infatuated idiot. It's a marvel, vivid, as darkly beautiful and cynical as film
noir, smoky and swift and unsentimental. The characterizations in every case are pitch-perfect, but Sirius and Snape will take your breath away. They're everything you see in canon, but their different versions of darkness and obsession and self-destructiveness blossom here, the way flowers grow in ash heaps. The fic zigzags through past and present, narrowing upon tragedy by way of the relentless cost of war and rootlessness and lost youth. The author doesn't sweeten these boys, these shameless arseholes; the sexual collisions and compulsions between Snape and Sirius are complex and damning and they help nothing and no one, and they compound error with cruelty, but they make perfect sense. And the dialogue? Oh my God. I wish I could write like this.
The first entry posted for
dysfuncentine also pressed all my buttons (as an aside, this fest has been chock full of fabulous fanworks). It's an amazing, psychologically acute, elliptical, devastating piece of art, and it mirrors (literally) many of my feelings about the Snape/Dumbledore connection. The perspectives here are like cinematic jump-cuts, the contrast of color panels enclosing a crucial moment from canon rendered in stormy black-and-white, which, combined with the reticence of the artist, allows the viewer to decide what s/he thinks it all means. Their faces are suggestive of more than one interpretation: Snape's unreadable mask on his side of the mirror (and oh, that grotty bog!) in contrast with his abject groveling in the past; Dumbledore's juxtaposed expressions of disgust, and the question, posed by his blackened hand, of precisely who and what disgusts him. It's intense and elusive, and the sexual implications make for an even more complicated, disquieting knot.
You Disgust Me
snapecase has concluded this year's run, and I haven't had time to read and rec much, but I did want to single out
verdeckt/
caecelia's fic
The Azote Principle, because it cast a spell that still haunts and preoccupies me. The author possesses an alchemical ability with language; she conjures a poetics of decay and renewal, a scientific metaphysics (if I may risk an oxymoron) of unstable combinations (Snape and Dumbledore, Snape and the ghost of Lily, Snape and the promise of Harry -- in short, Snape and everyone and everything) and the Frankensteinian obsession with life raised from death, the emotional consequences of premature burial, the grotesque sensuality of passion driven inward and burning itself out. Caecelia makes Snape's ugliness the paradoxical source of his fascination, layering suggestion upon mystery and endowing him with a bitter, experimentally-informed philosophy that is exactly right, a kind of essence of Snape. She places him at the intersection of magic and science, self-sacrifice and autonomy, and creates a lyric portrait of this brilliant, acidic, half-mad, self-loathing, contradictory character that is dark with power and strangely heartbreaking. The portrayals of Dumbledore and Sprout are equally persuasive. This fic starts amid disintegration and then dips lower, but by the end the upward arc has begun, and by sheer happenstance a spark has caught in Snape's heart and begun to flare again. Whether this is good or bad is left up to the reader to decide. *g*
Enough words. Oh good God, I'm late again. As usual.