November 11th, 2004


Kipling, "Mesopotamia"


They shall not return to us, the resolute, the young
The eager and whole-hearted whom we gave:
But the men who left them thriftily to die in their own dung,
Shall they come with years and honour to the grave?

They shall not return to us, the strong men coldly slain
In sight of help denied from day to day:
But the men who edged their agonies and chid them in their pain,
Are they too strong and wise to put away?

Our dead shall not return to us while Day and Night divide--
Never while the bars of sunset hold.
But the idle-minded overlings who quibbled while they died,
Shall they thrust for high employments as of old?

Shall we only threaten and be angry for an hour?
When the storm is ended shall we find
How softly but how swiftly they have sidled back to power
By the favour and contrivance of their kind?

Even while they soothe us, while they promise large amends,
Even while they make a show of fear,
Do they call upon their debtors, and take council with their friends,
To confirm and re-establish each career?

Their lives cannot repay us--their death could not undo--
The shame that they have laid upon our race.
But the slothfulness that wasted and the arrogance that slew,
Shall we leave it unabated in its place?

--Rudyard Kipling, 1917

Laurie R. King, THE GAME

Laurie R. King, The Game

Those who have read Laurie King's series of Sherlock Holmes pastiches featuring Mary Russell know that Mary can easily be fitted into the category of "Mary Sue." But she's an interesting, well-rounded Mary Sue, whose personal Angst does not impinge terribly on her life after the first couple of books in the series, and whose eventual marriage to Sherlock Holmes is not portrayed in too much sickening detail. I can accept all this for purposes of pastiche. Holmes fanfiction does, after all, have a long and storied (heh) history.

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