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ds_recsreduxTitle: Notes on the Impossibility of Nirvana
Author: to be revealed
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG-13
Length: 3,700 words
Why I'm reccing this fic:
This fic has one disadvantage, imho: Being posted as contribution of Team Whimsey it lets the reader automatically assume that Fraser's powers are real. It is however entirely possible that it might be only in his head. It has a fascinating ambiguity, and Fraser here seems not the most reliable narrator.
Whatever the case, this story is frightfully haunting and it chilled me to the bone. Poor, poor Fraser, denying himself the humanity and joy of desire to not put others in danger, strangling himself and repressing everything into duty.
And what might happen if Fraser weren't Fraser, if his morals were less than they are?
Thankfully RayV's snark and humor safe this story from stumbling into an angst fest. I love how RayV's voice sets a counterpoint in feeling and theme to Fraser's.
I love the idea, and I love the execution, and while it stands on its own I'd love the see more of this.
In spite of the considerable time and effort I have devoted to the study of Theravada Buddhism, I am forced to acknowledge that I have failed to achieve enlightenment and it seems that I am fated never so to do. I fear that Buddhism and my curse are inimical. With hindsight, I see that it was a ridiculous ambition for someone whose very nature is desire to seek a life free from passion and need. I have wondered from time to time if there is not a philosophical conundrum for all students of the Buddhist tradition in the desire for an absence of desire, but I suspect this is a regrettable instance of ‘sour grapes’ on my part.
“Benny, not the window! I’ll call it in and…”
Too late. Ray could see Fraser was nearly at street level already, his descent slowed to a safe speed as he tore through four projecting canopies on the way down. Ray figured he’d be driving back here later when Fraser insisted on apologizing in person for the property damage. He paused long enough to watch Fraser leap to his feet and start running after the nuns, then headed for the stairs. Back at the Riv he called Dispatch and then set off in pursuit of Fraser. He really didn’t get why the Mountie had to risk his neck like that: even the local uniforms should be able to spot a bunch of transvestite nuns in a yellow convertible with daisies painted on the hood.
“Oh, Fraser! No!” He caught a flash of red on yellow and swerved right. Yeah, there was Fraser, like some kind of Mountie octopus, spread-eagled on the back of the car while one of the nuns hammered at his fingers with a stuffed marmoset. At that speed it was really going to hurt if Fraser came off. On the other hand, it would take more than a piece of smuggled taxidermy to make the Mountie lose his grip.
Notes on the Impossibility of Nirvana
Author: to be revealed
Pairing: Fraser/Vecchio
Rating: PG-13
Length: 3,700 words
Why I'm reccing this fic:
This fic has one disadvantage, imho: Being posted as contribution of Team Whimsey it lets the reader automatically assume that Fraser's powers are real. It is however entirely possible that it might be only in his head. It has a fascinating ambiguity, and Fraser here seems not the most reliable narrator.
Whatever the case, this story is frightfully haunting and it chilled me to the bone. Poor, poor Fraser, denying himself the humanity and joy of desire to not put others in danger, strangling himself and repressing everything into duty.
And what might happen if Fraser weren't Fraser, if his morals were less than they are?
Thankfully RayV's snark and humor safe this story from stumbling into an angst fest. I love how RayV's voice sets a counterpoint in feeling and theme to Fraser's.
I love the idea, and I love the execution, and while it stands on its own I'd love the see more of this.
In spite of the considerable time and effort I have devoted to the study of Theravada Buddhism, I am forced to acknowledge that I have failed to achieve enlightenment and it seems that I am fated never so to do. I fear that Buddhism and my curse are inimical. With hindsight, I see that it was a ridiculous ambition for someone whose very nature is desire to seek a life free from passion and need. I have wondered from time to time if there is not a philosophical conundrum for all students of the Buddhist tradition in the desire for an absence of desire, but I suspect this is a regrettable instance of ‘sour grapes’ on my part.
“Benny, not the window! I’ll call it in and…”
Too late. Ray could see Fraser was nearly at street level already, his descent slowed to a safe speed as he tore through four projecting canopies on the way down. Ray figured he’d be driving back here later when Fraser insisted on apologizing in person for the property damage. He paused long enough to watch Fraser leap to his feet and start running after the nuns, then headed for the stairs. Back at the Riv he called Dispatch and then set off in pursuit of Fraser. He really didn’t get why the Mountie had to risk his neck like that: even the local uniforms should be able to spot a bunch of transvestite nuns in a yellow convertible with daisies painted on the hood.
“Oh, Fraser! No!” He caught a flash of red on yellow and swerved right. Yeah, there was Fraser, like some kind of Mountie octopus, spread-eagled on the back of the car while one of the nuns hammered at his fingers with a stuffed marmoset. At that speed it was really going to hurt if Fraser came off. On the other hand, it would take more than a piece of smuggled taxidermy to make the Mountie lose his grip.
Notes on the Impossibility of Nirvana
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Date: 2008-08-31 11:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-09-01 09:29 am (UTC)