After this shocking beginning, which could have stood alone, and still felt complete and richly so, Penumbra goes on to tell the story of what it is like for this family, living with the woman who was given this gift (or this burden, depending on your point of view). The story's tone and structure changes to show us not only what Scully dreads losing but what she shut herself off from because of fear. Her relationships with Mulder and William, her nephew Matthew's visits, William's friend Arable as she's hanging about. Her dog who adores her, even as she rejects him. Her home. Her work. Her life, in the present moment. The language is more lyrical, the pace is leisurely, there are episodic moments of humor and of sadness. We get to see what it's like for Mulder to have a wife who doesn't age and tries not to feel pain, what it's like for William to take on the burden of trying to help his mother die.
One of the things I love about this story is how intellectual Penumbra's Mulder and Scully both seem, full of arcane knowledge and random factoids. They bicker and they make love. They eat breakfast and they go to sleep. They sound exactly like themselves, only middle-aged, and living in Southern California. They feel like much more believable renditions of later day Mulder and Scully than what was given to us in that travesty IWTB.
Not everyone would find the prospect of immortality daunting. Some might even see it, at least for the first few hundreds years, as an opportunity, bringing countless lifetimes in which to learn, to create, to experience new things. But if you are like Scully, like me, like most human beings I suspect, the prospect of a life apart, alone, separated forever from those who matter most, is unimaginable. If given the choice between an eternity in heaven without my husband and my son, and a death that leads to nothingness, I'd choose death.
But we don't get to choose our fate, to a great extent, we just have to accept what is, play the hand we are dealt. Maybe I'll outlive my husband, maybe I'll be killed in a automobile accident on the way to work in the morning. Reading this story, measuring my current sorrow and eventual losses against the enormity of Scully facing eternity without her loved ones, somehow brought my life back into focus, gave it some perspective.
Fathom's Five is most assuredly fanfiction: its storyline and characters are derived from another person's creation. It emphatically isn't just a woman who happens to be named Scully and a man who happens to be named Mulder, starring in a story about life and death. But I would argue Fathoms's Five transcends its genre, because of the complexity and universality of its themes and the quality of its writing, to become Art. I for one, see no reason we can't, at least occasionally, have them both together, Art and Fanart, in one glorious creation, should we be so fortunate. I welcome it. I celebrate it. Thank you, Penumbra.
Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong. Hark! now I hear them — Ding-dong, bell
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winterfish
and all we need of hell
Date: 2010-05-15 05:13 am (UTC)One of the things I love about this story is how intellectual Penumbra's Mulder and Scully both seem, full of arcane knowledge and random factoids. They bicker and they make love. They eat breakfast and they go to sleep. They sound exactly like themselves, only middle-aged, and living in Southern California. They feel like much more believable renditions of later day Mulder and Scully than what was given to us in that travesty IWTB.
Not everyone would find the prospect of immortality daunting. Some might even see it, at least for the first few hundreds years, as an opportunity, bringing countless lifetimes in which to learn, to create, to experience new things. But if you are like Scully, like me, like most human beings I suspect, the prospect of a life apart, alone, separated forever from those who matter most, is unimaginable. If given the choice between an eternity in heaven without my husband and my son, and a death that leads to nothingness, I'd choose death.
But we don't get to choose our fate, to a great extent, we just have to accept what is, play the hand we are dealt. Maybe I'll outlive my husband, maybe I'll be killed in a automobile accident on the way to work in the morning. Reading this story, measuring my current sorrow and eventual losses against the enormity of Scully facing eternity without her loved ones, somehow brought my life back into focus, gave it some perspective.
Fathom's Five is most assuredly fanfiction: its storyline and characters are derived from another person's creation. It emphatically isn't just a woman who happens to be named Scully and a man who happens to be named Mulder, starring in a story about life and death. But I would argue Fathoms's Five transcends its genre, because of the complexity and universality of its themes and the quality of its writing, to become Art. I for one, see no reason we can't, at least occasionally, have them both together, Art and Fanart, in one glorious creation, should we be so fortunate. I welcome it. I celebrate it. Thank you, Penumbra.
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them — Ding-dong, bell
William Shakespeare, The Tempest