ext_14387 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
hafren.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
crack_van2004-04-12 06:21 am
hafren.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2004-04-12 06:21 am
CORA Has Two Daddies and Her Father by Executrix (PG-13)
Fandom: Blakes 7
Pairing: Blake/Avon in the past, Blake/Vila
Author on LJ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
executrix
Author Website: No
Why this must be read:
These two linked stories (story and sequel so it isn't really two for the price of one) are probably my favourite E'trix stories ever, because they're among the few that have some admixture of angst. Executrix claims not to like angst. But even when writing about serious themes, she is unlikely to do so in a completely sombre vein. These two, in which the rebels survive and the revolution goes on, are angstier than most Executrix stories. The first is narrated by a computer, the acronymic CORA, which Avon presents by proxy to Blake as a sort of apology for trying to kill him. In the second Avon, though still involved with the revolution, has become a priest. This is in keeping with a long-running Executrix thread about him having been brought up a Catholic. There is no canonical basis for that; in fact the position of religion in the Federation is uncertain, but it fits quite well with his penchant for guilt and remorse. These fics are very much about guilt, about relationships that don't work but can't be laid aside, and the irrevocable nature of the past, the problem being that you can neither go back and change it nor ignore what it has done to you. Yet, autumnal and brooding as it often is, this is the opening of Her Father:
All of the delegates to the Contrafederation Information Technology Conference were required to check their weapons at the door. Quite apart from the predictable presence of Central Security plants and double, triple, and higher-power agents, the mere fact of opposition to the Federation didn't lead to harmony. That was evident from the glares being exchanged between the Jihad of Blood Women's Auxiliary (huddled behind a hedge of lesbian separatists) and the Intergalactic Zionist Verein and their picket fence of Young Spartacists. But it seemed that every day a new rebellion sprang up, and together - if they could stop trying to kill each other for a minute - they were more and more likely to achieve final victory (and then fall to squabbling over the results).
Later, with Avon now living according to rules of chastity, the fic flashes back to earlier times in his life:
Over a fairly good run, approximately two decades, Avon usually found sex to be a delightful demonstration of the Magic of the Free Market. An Invisible Hand Job, as it were. It was like going on holiday in some picture-postcard country, where you'd turn over a handful of coppers and receive fragrant, crusty fresh bread or exotic orchids or hand-painted pottery. Both participants wouldn't just accept it, they'd be delighted by the exchange.
However, the marketplace was located on a road bracketed by a casino at each end. By the time he met Blake, Avon already knew what happened when you crossed the threshold. There would be a few minor coups, just to keep you interested, and then, gradually or suddenly, you'd lose everything. But then, like any real gambler, Avon knew that whatever money you might win was only the cellophane wrapping. The sweet inside was the catastrophic loss.
Perhaps when she says she dislikes angst, she means she dislikes the wallowing in emotion which angst at its worst can be. She is more likely to undercut emotion with humour or colour it with figurative language, as here. Nor will she let her characters brood for long; the characters in this fic, as in most of hers, are not entirely happy with their lives but they get on and live them anyway, as most of us have to in real life. It's arguable, in fact, that for a writer in an SF fanfic universe she is more rooted in real life than most. Her stories are more conscious of the senses, and of sensual pleasures, than many SF-based fanfic stories. The food references in the extract above are typical: such sensual references to foods or materials are a signature in her fics.
By the way, re ratings. I go by what I'd have been happy for my kids to read at 13, but since I'm anti-censorship that's just about anything.
CORA Has Two Daddies
Her Father
Pairing: Blake/Avon in the past, Blake/Vila
Author on LJ
executrixAuthor Website: No
Why this must be read:
These two linked stories (story and sequel so it isn't really two for the price of one) are probably my favourite E'trix stories ever, because they're among the few that have some admixture of angst. Executrix claims not to like angst. But even when writing about serious themes, she is unlikely to do so in a completely sombre vein. These two, in which the rebels survive and the revolution goes on, are angstier than most Executrix stories. The first is narrated by a computer, the acronymic CORA, which Avon presents by proxy to Blake as a sort of apology for trying to kill him. In the second Avon, though still involved with the revolution, has become a priest. This is in keeping with a long-running Executrix thread about him having been brought up a Catholic. There is no canonical basis for that; in fact the position of religion in the Federation is uncertain, but it fits quite well with his penchant for guilt and remorse. These fics are very much about guilt, about relationships that don't work but can't be laid aside, and the irrevocable nature of the past, the problem being that you can neither go back and change it nor ignore what it has done to you. Yet, autumnal and brooding as it often is, this is the opening of Her Father:
All of the delegates to the Contrafederation Information Technology Conference were required to check their weapons at the door. Quite apart from the predictable presence of Central Security plants and double, triple, and higher-power agents, the mere fact of opposition to the Federation didn't lead to harmony. That was evident from the glares being exchanged between the Jihad of Blood Women's Auxiliary (huddled behind a hedge of lesbian separatists) and the Intergalactic Zionist Verein and their picket fence of Young Spartacists. But it seemed that every day a new rebellion sprang up, and together - if they could stop trying to kill each other for a minute - they were more and more likely to achieve final victory (and then fall to squabbling over the results).
Later, with Avon now living according to rules of chastity, the fic flashes back to earlier times in his life:
Over a fairly good run, approximately two decades, Avon usually found sex to be a delightful demonstration of the Magic of the Free Market. An Invisible Hand Job, as it were. It was like going on holiday in some picture-postcard country, where you'd turn over a handful of coppers and receive fragrant, crusty fresh bread or exotic orchids or hand-painted pottery. Both participants wouldn't just accept it, they'd be delighted by the exchange.
However, the marketplace was located on a road bracketed by a casino at each end. By the time he met Blake, Avon already knew what happened when you crossed the threshold. There would be a few minor coups, just to keep you interested, and then, gradually or suddenly, you'd lose everything. But then, like any real gambler, Avon knew that whatever money you might win was only the cellophane wrapping. The sweet inside was the catastrophic loss.
Perhaps when she says she dislikes angst, she means she dislikes the wallowing in emotion which angst at its worst can be. She is more likely to undercut emotion with humour or colour it with figurative language, as here. Nor will she let her characters brood for long; the characters in this fic, as in most of hers, are not entirely happy with their lives but they get on and live them anyway, as most of us have to in real life. It's arguable, in fact, that for a writer in an SF fanfic universe she is more rooted in real life than most. Her stories are more conscious of the senses, and of sensual pleasures, than many SF-based fanfic stories. The food references in the extract above are typical: such sensual references to foods or materials are a signature in her fics.
By the way, re ratings. I go by what I'd have been happy for my kids to read at 13, but since I'm anti-censorship that's just about anything.
CORA Has Two Daddies
Her Father