It's funny, I find I disagree with both the assertions of this fic: one, that when Scully was fifteen she thought she might have poetry in her, and two, that when she's thirty-one she doesn't have poetry in her. If anything I see her character developing the other way around. I don't see her as having been all that interested in poetry when she was young, I don't see her as a girl who sat and tried to be poetic or worried that she wasn't. But as the series progresses I think Scully slowly gains greater access to a sense of the poetic - she opens up a little, the way she thinks changes a bit.
I don't necessarily disagree with the feeling of the fic, however; what Scully wants to say can't be said straight-forwardly, and she feels at a loss because she doesn't know how to say it the way it must be said ('poetically'). And, of course, the problem goes deeper than that - it's also that she can't accept what she feels for Mulder because it is, in a sense, 'poetic' feeling. She can't contain it within one part of herself only, compartmentalize it - it's foreign to her internal landscape and she can't let that go.
I know that there is something here, that there's something between us, and it's just too big and deep and strange for me to accept even though I know it's there.
As to Mulder, I just don't know what to make of him in this universe. I'm not sure if I like him. He's let Scully down many times, and he knows it but that doesn't prevent him from continuing to do so. Real people are like that sometimes, but his brand of selfishness is not something I find myself inclined (in this universe or canon) to be all that sympathetic to. And then there's this:
He can tell that Scully's suddenly conscious of herself and his eyes, adjusting her posture. She's doing this for him.
Mulder feels his mouth go dry and stupid.
"G-Gerson's definitely lying," he says. "We should go talk to his wife again; I think she just wants to get this all over with."
Scully's shoulders slump forward slightly. She abandons the orange, half-stripped, and looks for a T-shirt to pull on.
Coward. No wonder Scully's a mess. She's an intimacy-phobe who's in love with a commitment-phobe. Nothing like being afraid to be vulnerable and have needs while carrying on an intense affair with someone who's afraid of your vulnerability and your needs.
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winterfish
Poems - 1/2
Date: 2011-09-20 01:45 am (UTC)I don't necessarily disagree with the feeling of the fic, however; what Scully wants to say can't be said straight-forwardly, and she feels at a loss because she doesn't know how to say it the way it must be said ('poetically'). And, of course, the problem goes deeper than that - it's also that she can't accept what she feels for Mulder because it is, in a sense, 'poetic' feeling. She can't contain it within one part of herself only, compartmentalize it - it's foreign to her internal landscape and she can't let that go.
I know that there is something here, that there's something between
us, and it's just too big and deep and strange for me to accept even
though I know it's there.
As to Mulder, I just don't know what to make of him in this universe. I'm not sure if I like him. He's let Scully down many times, and he knows it but that doesn't prevent him from continuing to do so. Real people are like that sometimes, but his brand of selfishness is not something I find myself inclined (in this universe or canon) to be all that sympathetic to. And then there's this:
He can tell that Scully's suddenly conscious of herself and his
eyes, adjusting her posture. She's doing this for him.
Mulder feels his mouth go dry and stupid.
"G-Gerson's definitely lying," he says. "We should go talk to his
wife again; I think she just wants to get this all over with."
Scully's shoulders slump forward slightly. She abandons the orange,
half-stripped, and looks for a T-shirt to pull on.
Coward. No wonder Scully's a mess. She's an intimacy-phobe who's in love with a commitment-phobe. Nothing like being afraid to be vulnerable and have needs while carrying on an intense affair with someone who's afraid of your vulnerability and your needs.