Oct. 16th, 2013

ailiet: (Default)
First off, a brief rumble of Canadian nationalism before I forget. The Paris Review has an excellent interview with Robertson Davies from 1989. I have, of course, read one book by Davies (otherwise I would've lost my Canadian Merit badge), but clearly I should finish the Deptford Trilogy, because he's delightful as hell:
They say they’re full of coincidence and this, that or the other; but the fact is that my life seems to be much fuller of coincidence and curious happenings than the lives of critics. What I mean is, the kind of mind which makes a critic is analytical, cool, an infinitely, unenviably, cautious mind. A recent piece of professorial criticism of What’s Bred in the Bone was very severe with me for my attraction to arcane lore and weird belief—no use explaining that to me the arcane lore isn’t arcane at all, and makes wonderful sense, and that almost all belief is strange, if you catch it with the light falling on it in a certain way.

Now, on to business. If you were to ask me why I ship Erwin/Levi I'd have to gesture vaguely towards Tumblr and rattle off a bunch of phrases that sound like AO3 tags ('established relationship', 'size kink', 'domesticity', 'D/s overtones', etc.). Broken down or fleshed out, they're a compelling match and fortunately, so's the fic.

Some of my favourites so far )

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