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The general standard of Yuletide stories seems to improve year on year. Stories that this year disappear into the common run would in previous years have been obvious recommendations. I'm not sure I've yet come across anything that matches the stand out bests from previous years, but then those include some of the better stories I've found anywhere online, so that is hardly a criticism.
I haven't had time to read anything like everything yet, and I generally prefer not to read everything in one fandom in a row, so if I've recced one story in a given fandom but not another equally good, it may be I just haven't read the latter yet. As always, I'm trying to concentrate on stories that are worth reading even if you aren't familiar with the fandom.
(Also, guys, come on: you see that little 'Add Comment' button, bottom right? It's fun to click it! Well, I admit it's more like hard work - I'm very bad at commenting myself, and behind even on Yuletide, for which I make a special effort. But I'm still seeing good stories with maybe one comment, which, yes, I know they were written as a gift, but every extra comment will make the writer happy, so, you know, click away.)
First, of course, I'd like to point you to the two stories written for me. A Mystery Rite of Irkalla and In the Dark House. These are both Near Eastern Mythology, and in fact both writers went for the same prompt, so they are both the Descent of Inana. This is a happy coincidence, because my interest is very much in seeing what different writers choose to make of the surviving canon, so have two such different takes on the same theme was perfect. In the Dark House is, in some ways, a very fannish version (femslash! incest!), although also interesting for its emphasis on love and pity in a myth that generally involves violence and deceit. My main story, however, is remarkable: beautifully written in verse, as though the translation of an original Sumerian text, A Mystery Rite of Irkalla is convincingly Sumerian yet with an emphasis on duality and comparison that provides an original perspective. I can't recommend it highly enough; also, I shall feel rather guilty if my brilliant yulegoat has put so much effort and care into creating something like this just for my benefit. I know that's sort of the idea, but this really does deserve a wider audience.
"What is this?" Inana asked him again, and each time he said,
"Lady, do not question the laws of the land of the dead."
Little or no knowledge of canon required:
Aeschylus - The Oresteia
Last Days: Clytaemnestra and Odysseus, justice and the bonds of duty.
Arthurian Mythology
Conscience: "I have heard that you are very wise," said Galahad, speaking the honest truth, "and that is why it surprises me that you do not seek the Grail, for it is the way of wisdom."
Sirocco: Palomides, temptation and belonging. But love disdained, as he knew well, only flourished all the more. Of that, his ancestors had written screeds, transforming love into a thread of light drawn mercilessly behind the lover's needle. Had Palomides any ear for poetry--which sadly he did not--he would have poured out his heart in ink as Tristram did in music. All he had was his strength and quickness, his ability to twist a sword at just the right confluence of angles to rip another man's life from this earth and carry him forth to whichever afterlife beckoned him.
Christina Rossetti - Goblin Market
The Illusionist: Another interesting story about temptation. But then the wind lifted, and Jean breathed in the scent of apple blossoms from her own trees. That was the best, most comforting smell in the world. Her spine straightened. A moment later the breeze reached the goblins, too, and one by one they fell silent. They lifted their noses or waved their antennae, and stood there quivering at the edge of the road. Their eyes flicked back and forth between the deep, gray shadows of the orchard in the distance and Jean. Then slow, lascivious, glinting grins split their faces, and they started to hiss and murmur again.
Dracula - Stoker
Shattered Mirrors: Nightmarish and beautiful. She is barefoot, and her feet are bleeding. Jonathan wants to tell her something in response, some sort of comfort or reassurance, but he sees, as though inevitably, that the white clips in her dark hair are made from human teeth
Fairy Tales
The Queen Sent Messengers: A very good, very interesting version of Rumpelstiltskin, well worth reading. (Though it succeeded in making feel sad for Rumpelstiltskin, which I never have before.)
Fiddler in the Mountain: I'm not sure that the ending had quite the weight it should have done, especially compared to the excellence of the earlier parts, but all the same, this is very good. Fairy tales already come in many variants, and there's no need only to use the most familiar for Yuletide. This version of Beauty and the Beast has the Mountain King in place of the Beast, allowing for a fascinating story with an older, more practical and knowledgeable woman, and more at stake than the shape of the man.
If you like this, you may also like: Gretel and the Forest: Gretel before and after.
Four Weddings and a Funeral
nor no man ever loved: Later, when they're dancing, when his cheek is on Anthony's shoulder, he doesn't think the one thing he never thinks, because it isn't fair to anybody. He doesn't think that if Gareth was alive, if Gareth was here and not twelve years underground, that they'd be dancing like this, that after so many years of other people's weddings it would finally be their turn. He doesn't think this.
Greek and Roman Mythology
Five Ways Medea Lost Herself (to/with Jason): A good character study of Medea.
Malay Literature
To The Death/The Rambutan Tree: Long and gripping. Gone was the casual, almost insouciant insolence… and there stands a fragile boy, holding on to a bunch of rambutans like it was the most precious thing in the world. Jebat has seen this trick on younger cousins — look at me, I am at your mercy. Look at me, you are about to do a great injustice. Look at me, me, not what I have done!
Philip Marlowe - Chandler
The Shadow Line: The bartender hadn’t given me an address and it wouldn’t have helped any if he had, since none of the houses had numbers. What he’d given me was a description of the building at whose door he’d deposited Mr. Marston the night Mr. Marston had had too many gimlets to manage to stagger home unaided. I found it without any difficulty, the only three-story house on a block otherwise devoted to one-story buildings and fenced-in empty lots. In the States, there would have been a panel showing the tenants’ names together with a buzzer for each, to activate the house phone. And in the States you would have needed it, because the front door would have been closed and locked. Here it was helpfully propped open with a broken cinderblock.
If you liked this, you may also like: The Woman in the Picture, which also has a good Marlowe voice (though no slash).
Primeval
Watermarked: H/c isn't particularly my thing, but if you like intelligent, understated h/c, I should think this would be to your taste.
Some knowledge of canon required: (but give them a go anyway, they're good enough to be worth the effort)
Arcadia - Stoppard
All That's Best of Dark and Bright: Witty and clever and happy, and therefore of course, by implication, sad.
Lord Peter Wimsey - Sayers
All Our Scattered Leaves: cannot seem to make her understand that at present, Peter can't bring himself to make decisions about anything, much less give orders -- and not to fret him with questions, nor to walk around his bed on tip-toe looking glum as an owl, which would be enough to depress anybody, though may be doing an injustice to owls; somehow one always thinks of them as looking either glum or peevish, rather than wise.
The Sceptre at the Feast: Helen straightened the baby’s bedclothes a little aimlessly. Peter thought that motherhood suited her. The baby was only six weeks old, and the lines of her face were still a little softer than usual, the thick yellow hair less well disciplined. She had lifted the baby with a tenderness that he had never thought could belong to her.
If you're a Sayers fan, I'm sure you'll have read these already. If you're not, go read them anyway.
Neverwhere - Gaiman
A comb, a coat, a pie: A passing acquaintance with Perrault's Puss in Boots and the Italian The Mangy One (Calvino's version is readily available if you can access Google Books) will improve this story, because of how cleverly the author has incorporated details, blending them so that the old elements appear in a new way. There are genuine touches of horror here, too: both the goblin tailors and the clear but unspecified nature of Old Scratch's 'fostering'.
The Master Cat: A fine and convincing backstory for the Marquis. Shrewd dark eyes moved from the ratty old tabby cat to the box in his palm. Certainly the silver was worth more than some flea-ridden stray. And what did it matter to him if the cat decided to move in with a new owner? They were heartless, cats, and the least loyal of any pet and really, he didn't need to be responsible for it any longer. It would be a relief to have it gone, now that she mentioned it. As his fingers closed around the trinket, he smiled and nodded feeling that he'd got the better part of the whole deal entirely.
The Matter of London Below: This could almost be from a sequel. "To collect my favor, of course." The bright grin suddenly flashed out of the darkness, revealing the glint of sharp, white teeth and Duggard's heart went cold.
"But that was years ago!"
"Yes," agreed the marquis. "Tell me, do you think it's grown with time?"
If you liked this, you may also like: Devil and the Deep Black Sea
Norse Mythology
just a trick of the light: This is a sea that goes on forever, even when it stops. There is a snake – no, no, the sea is the snake, a roiling mass of slick coils of scales, sliding against each other, the hissing filling the water like waves large enough to kill any ship. They have. The sea is full of the bones of the dead.
Or possibly: There were two men sitting at the table by the window. Now there is one. He seems smaller now, when before you were suffocated by his very presence. You can bear the sight of him now, though that feels wrong too. His half-empty coffee cup rest by his still hand, and his eyes are closed.
You never saw the other man leave. (You never saw a great many things.)
His shoulder feels strange under your hand – insubstantial, as if you were shaking a cloud awake, or grasping at mist. But he rouses, and when he looks at you, there's something like fear in his single eye.
(He had two eyes. You remember this, you know this. But now he doesn't.)
Why don't you just go and read this before I quote the whole thing at you.
If you liked this, you may also like: High Tide. Inuit Mythology.
The Liar - Fry
Once, Twice, Three Times an Agent: I fear familiarity with the source is required here. An observer would have seen the Waterhouse Fellow in Old English Verse grow a couple of inches taller and infinitely more radiant upon reading this.
Watership Down - Adams
In Friendship: El-ahrairah and the rabbit in the moon. Written with something of the lyrical simplicity of Adams, it deals with both its mythological source and its theme of loneliness in perceptive and unexpected ways.
Crossovers
Fragments from a Novel: Nero Wolfe (Stout) and Psmith (Wodehouse). Sadly, I think you may need to be familiar with both sources to appreciate this. The cry goes forth: Comrade Wolfe is the hero of the people! If you are in trouble he is the man of the hour!
I haven't had time to read anything like everything yet, and I generally prefer not to read everything in one fandom in a row, so if I've recced one story in a given fandom but not another equally good, it may be I just haven't read the latter yet. As always, I'm trying to concentrate on stories that are worth reading even if you aren't familiar with the fandom.
(Also, guys, come on: you see that little 'Add Comment' button, bottom right? It's fun to click it! Well, I admit it's more like hard work - I'm very bad at commenting myself, and behind even on Yuletide, for which I make a special effort. But I'm still seeing good stories with maybe one comment, which, yes, I know they were written as a gift, but every extra comment will make the writer happy, so, you know, click away.)
First, of course, I'd like to point you to the two stories written for me. A Mystery Rite of Irkalla and In the Dark House. These are both Near Eastern Mythology, and in fact both writers went for the same prompt, so they are both the Descent of Inana. This is a happy coincidence, because my interest is very much in seeing what different writers choose to make of the surviving canon, so have two such different takes on the same theme was perfect. In the Dark House is, in some ways, a very fannish version (femslash! incest!), although also interesting for its emphasis on love and pity in a myth that generally involves violence and deceit. My main story, however, is remarkable: beautifully written in verse, as though the translation of an original Sumerian text, A Mystery Rite of Irkalla is convincingly Sumerian yet with an emphasis on duality and comparison that provides an original perspective. I can't recommend it highly enough; also, I shall feel rather guilty if my brilliant yulegoat has put so much effort and care into creating something like this just for my benefit. I know that's sort of the idea, but this really does deserve a wider audience.
"What is this?" Inana asked him again, and each time he said,
"Lady, do not question the laws of the land of the dead."
Little or no knowledge of canon required:
Aeschylus - The Oresteia
Last Days: Clytaemnestra and Odysseus, justice and the bonds of duty.
Arthurian Mythology
Conscience: "I have heard that you are very wise," said Galahad, speaking the honest truth, "and that is why it surprises me that you do not seek the Grail, for it is the way of wisdom."
Sirocco: Palomides, temptation and belonging. But love disdained, as he knew well, only flourished all the more. Of that, his ancestors had written screeds, transforming love into a thread of light drawn mercilessly behind the lover's needle. Had Palomides any ear for poetry--which sadly he did not--he would have poured out his heart in ink as Tristram did in music. All he had was his strength and quickness, his ability to twist a sword at just the right confluence of angles to rip another man's life from this earth and carry him forth to whichever afterlife beckoned him.
Christina Rossetti - Goblin Market
The Illusionist: Another interesting story about temptation. But then the wind lifted, and Jean breathed in the scent of apple blossoms from her own trees. That was the best, most comforting smell in the world. Her spine straightened. A moment later the breeze reached the goblins, too, and one by one they fell silent. They lifted their noses or waved their antennae, and stood there quivering at the edge of the road. Their eyes flicked back and forth between the deep, gray shadows of the orchard in the distance and Jean. Then slow, lascivious, glinting grins split their faces, and they started to hiss and murmur again.
Dracula - Stoker
Shattered Mirrors: Nightmarish and beautiful. She is barefoot, and her feet are bleeding. Jonathan wants to tell her something in response, some sort of comfort or reassurance, but he sees, as though inevitably, that the white clips in her dark hair are made from human teeth
Fairy Tales
The Queen Sent Messengers: A very good, very interesting version of Rumpelstiltskin, well worth reading. (Though it succeeded in making feel sad for Rumpelstiltskin, which I never have before.)
Fiddler in the Mountain: I'm not sure that the ending had quite the weight it should have done, especially compared to the excellence of the earlier parts, but all the same, this is very good. Fairy tales already come in many variants, and there's no need only to use the most familiar for Yuletide. This version of Beauty and the Beast has the Mountain King in place of the Beast, allowing for a fascinating story with an older, more practical and knowledgeable woman, and more at stake than the shape of the man.
If you like this, you may also like: Gretel and the Forest: Gretel before and after.
Four Weddings and a Funeral
nor no man ever loved: Later, when they're dancing, when his cheek is on Anthony's shoulder, he doesn't think the one thing he never thinks, because it isn't fair to anybody. He doesn't think that if Gareth was alive, if Gareth was here and not twelve years underground, that they'd be dancing like this, that after so many years of other people's weddings it would finally be their turn. He doesn't think this.
Greek and Roman Mythology
Five Ways Medea Lost Herself (to/with Jason): A good character study of Medea.
Malay Literature
To The Death/The Rambutan Tree: Long and gripping. Gone was the casual, almost insouciant insolence… and there stands a fragile boy, holding on to a bunch of rambutans like it was the most precious thing in the world. Jebat has seen this trick on younger cousins — look at me, I am at your mercy. Look at me, you are about to do a great injustice. Look at me, me, not what I have done!
Philip Marlowe - Chandler
The Shadow Line: The bartender hadn’t given me an address and it wouldn’t have helped any if he had, since none of the houses had numbers. What he’d given me was a description of the building at whose door he’d deposited Mr. Marston the night Mr. Marston had had too many gimlets to manage to stagger home unaided. I found it without any difficulty, the only three-story house on a block otherwise devoted to one-story buildings and fenced-in empty lots. In the States, there would have been a panel showing the tenants’ names together with a buzzer for each, to activate the house phone. And in the States you would have needed it, because the front door would have been closed and locked. Here it was helpfully propped open with a broken cinderblock.
If you liked this, you may also like: The Woman in the Picture, which also has a good Marlowe voice (though no slash).
Primeval
Watermarked: H/c isn't particularly my thing, but if you like intelligent, understated h/c, I should think this would be to your taste.
Some knowledge of canon required: (but give them a go anyway, they're good enough to be worth the effort)
Arcadia - Stoppard
All That's Best of Dark and Bright: Witty and clever and happy, and therefore of course, by implication, sad.
Lord Peter Wimsey - Sayers
All Our Scattered Leaves: cannot seem to make her understand that at present, Peter can't bring himself to make decisions about anything, much less give orders -- and not to fret him with questions, nor to walk around his bed on tip-toe looking glum as an owl, which would be enough to depress anybody, though may be doing an injustice to owls; somehow one always thinks of them as looking either glum or peevish, rather than wise.
The Sceptre at the Feast: Helen straightened the baby’s bedclothes a little aimlessly. Peter thought that motherhood suited her. The baby was only six weeks old, and the lines of her face were still a little softer than usual, the thick yellow hair less well disciplined. She had lifted the baby with a tenderness that he had never thought could belong to her.
If you're a Sayers fan, I'm sure you'll have read these already. If you're not, go read them anyway.
Neverwhere - Gaiman
A comb, a coat, a pie: A passing acquaintance with Perrault's Puss in Boots and the Italian The Mangy One (Calvino's version is readily available if you can access Google Books) will improve this story, because of how cleverly the author has incorporated details, blending them so that the old elements appear in a new way. There are genuine touches of horror here, too: both the goblin tailors and the clear but unspecified nature of Old Scratch's 'fostering'.
The Master Cat: A fine and convincing backstory for the Marquis. Shrewd dark eyes moved from the ratty old tabby cat to the box in his palm. Certainly the silver was worth more than some flea-ridden stray. And what did it matter to him if the cat decided to move in with a new owner? They were heartless, cats, and the least loyal of any pet and really, he didn't need to be responsible for it any longer. It would be a relief to have it gone, now that she mentioned it. As his fingers closed around the trinket, he smiled and nodded feeling that he'd got the better part of the whole deal entirely.
The Matter of London Below: This could almost be from a sequel. "To collect my favor, of course." The bright grin suddenly flashed out of the darkness, revealing the glint of sharp, white teeth and Duggard's heart went cold.
"But that was years ago!"
"Yes," agreed the marquis. "Tell me, do you think it's grown with time?"
If you liked this, you may also like: Devil and the Deep Black Sea
Norse Mythology
just a trick of the light: This is a sea that goes on forever, even when it stops. There is a snake – no, no, the sea is the snake, a roiling mass of slick coils of scales, sliding against each other, the hissing filling the water like waves large enough to kill any ship. They have. The sea is full of the bones of the dead.
Or possibly: There were two men sitting at the table by the window. Now there is one. He seems smaller now, when before you were suffocated by his very presence. You can bear the sight of him now, though that feels wrong too. His half-empty coffee cup rest by his still hand, and his eyes are closed.
You never saw the other man leave. (You never saw a great many things.)
His shoulder feels strange under your hand – insubstantial, as if you were shaking a cloud awake, or grasping at mist. But he rouses, and when he looks at you, there's something like fear in his single eye.
(He had two eyes. You remember this, you know this. But now he doesn't.)
Why don't you just go and read this before I quote the whole thing at you.
If you liked this, you may also like: High Tide. Inuit Mythology.
The Liar - Fry
Once, Twice, Three Times an Agent: I fear familiarity with the source is required here. An observer would have seen the Waterhouse Fellow in Old English Verse grow a couple of inches taller and infinitely more radiant upon reading this.
Watership Down - Adams
In Friendship: El-ahrairah and the rabbit in the moon. Written with something of the lyrical simplicity of Adams, it deals with both its mythological source and its theme of loneliness in perceptive and unexpected ways.
Crossovers
Fragments from a Novel: Nero Wolfe (Stout) and Psmith (Wodehouse). Sadly, I think you may need to be familiar with both sources to appreciate this. The cry goes forth: Comrade Wolfe is the hero of the people! If you are in trouble he is the man of the hour!
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