History, Geography, Mythology, Character.
I don't often make recs, mainly because I feel like my taste is so subjective--what I like about a story isn't often something that I'm sure will communicate, and I'm willing to tolerate poor writing that hits my narrative kinks, or that does something interesting. (See, for example, my affection for Rachel Anton.) But I keep mulling over a story I just read--an old one, that probably all of you have read already--and I wanted to mull in public, briefly.
The story in question is Prufrock's Love's Moment in the Sun. (Link is to a geocities page, which means that it may be down occasionally; if so, wait 24 hours and try again. In the future, this link will not exist.) It's a historical AU, which is a genre I find, conceptually, a bit absurd. And, honestly, the AU's premise (Mulder is a retired ballplayer! Scully is a snarky nurse!) does not sound like a good thing. I usually avoid fics like this, but I tried this one, as I was going through the site and saving some of the stories I like best from it. And it sucked me in like crazy; I threw a little stompy fit when the page shorted out after only two chapters, and then immediately downloaded all seven parts when the site came back up.
There are four elements that really work for me in the story. First, the socio-historical texture of it. The 1950s setting is drawn in ways that make it seem entirely convincing, and there aren't deviations from that timeframe for the sake of plot or character. (I'd love to hear from
emily_shore on this, since she's my source for the culture of the 1950s.) What makes it so convincing is that you aren't watching what would happen if the Mulder, Scully, and auxilaries we know and love were plunked down in the 1950s; you're watching what would happen if the people we know had grown and developed within the landscape of the late Depression and World War II. (Imagine a half-Jewish Mulder liberating Dachau, or that the reason we don't know Charlie Scully is because he died at Pearl Harbor.)
While this was one of the highlights of the story, it lead to some moments of early cognative dissonance for me. Part of what I love about the universe of the X-Files is that neither Mulder nor Scully seem tied to dominant heteronormative conceptions of family life or sexual mores; in fact, traditional suburban family life is portrayed repeatedly as pathological (see Chimera or Arcadia, for instance). But the Mulder, especially, of Moment in the Sun is much more tied to narratives of convential family structure and to sexual convention. Of course he is; it's 1953. (In this light, Scully's reluctance around those norms is even more interesting, and I think entirely in character.) Although it threw me, because my Mulder and Scully are, you know, queer radicals who just don't know it, it really works. (Side note: the sex seemed very historically appropriate as well: it's not that what peopke are doing that's any different than now, it's now they think about it.)
The second element is idiosyncratic: I, like any New Yorker, am a sucker for geographical specificity. (See, for instance, the way that Fountains of Wayne's Sick Day has made them one of my favorite bands, merely for the line "Lead us not into Penn Station.") And the New York of this AU is really perfect--Mulder stuck in traffic on Jorelmon and avoidng shoppers from the Macy's on Livingston, that Will's a student at Packer, of of all places, hot dogs at Coney Island and skating at Wollman Rink. It conjures images so familiar to me that I simply love reading about them. (Especially because Brooklyn Heights doesn't look like it's aged a day since the 1920s, so I can literally picture it.) I don't know if Prufrock's a New Yorker, but, if not, she did her homework.
The third element, which I think is the clincher, is the mythology. Remember that the X-Files mythology extends back to the Roswell crash and the Nazi genetic experiments; by the time this story is set, the Consortium's activities should be in full swing. And they are: the reproductive experiements we know about are being duplicated in this time, with catastrophic effects for the characters we love (as exist in canon). This story is actually set in the X-Files universe; just forty years earlier. It's compelling for exactly that reason.
Finally, the characters. A ton of regulars show up, in obvious roles (the Mulder and Scully families are as expected, the Lone Gunmen are Mulder's agent, lawyer, and accountant, AD Skinner is Arthur Dales's boss, CSM smokes and is evil in the Plaza's bar, Phoebe Green as Mulder's more than a little insane ex-wife, Diana Fowley and her son, Gibson; Josh Exley even shows up for a few). Their transformations into sensical characters from the time period are excellent. I am also a total sucker for well-done kidfic, which this is--both Mulder and Scully have kids at the beginning of the story, and it's believeable and heartbreaking and funny. The characterization of minor characters is beautiful, and Mulder and Scully, despite being transformed by their new time period, are themselves in recognizable ways.
In any case, it's a great story, I think--well-written, well-plotted, historically nuanced. I'd love to hear what you think of it--or of other fic that works for you despite the odd premise. I'm a sucker for pulling off the bizarre, really.
The story in question is Prufrock's Love's Moment in the Sun. (Link is to a geocities page, which means that it may be down occasionally; if so, wait 24 hours and try again. In the future, this link will not exist.) It's a historical AU, which is a genre I find, conceptually, a bit absurd. And, honestly, the AU's premise (Mulder is a retired ballplayer! Scully is a snarky nurse!) does not sound like a good thing. I usually avoid fics like this, but I tried this one, as I was going through the site and saving some of the stories I like best from it. And it sucked me in like crazy; I threw a little stompy fit when the page shorted out after only two chapters, and then immediately downloaded all seven parts when the site came back up.
There are four elements that really work for me in the story. First, the socio-historical texture of it. The 1950s setting is drawn in ways that make it seem entirely convincing, and there aren't deviations from that timeframe for the sake of plot or character. (I'd love to hear from
emily_shore on this, since she's my source for the culture of the 1950s.) What makes it so convincing is that you aren't watching what would happen if the Mulder, Scully, and auxilaries we know and love were plunked down in the 1950s; you're watching what would happen if the people we know had grown and developed within the landscape of the late Depression and World War II. (Imagine a half-Jewish Mulder liberating Dachau, or that the reason we don't know Charlie Scully is because he died at Pearl Harbor.)
While this was one of the highlights of the story, it lead to some moments of early cognative dissonance for me. Part of what I love about the universe of the X-Files is that neither Mulder nor Scully seem tied to dominant heteronormative conceptions of family life or sexual mores; in fact, traditional suburban family life is portrayed repeatedly as pathological (see Chimera or Arcadia, for instance). But the Mulder, especially, of Moment in the Sun is much more tied to narratives of convential family structure and to sexual convention. Of course he is; it's 1953. (In this light, Scully's reluctance around those norms is even more interesting, and I think entirely in character.) Although it threw me, because my Mulder and Scully are, you know, queer radicals who just don't know it, it really works. (Side note: the sex seemed very historically appropriate as well: it's not that what peopke are doing that's any different than now, it's now they think about it.)
The second element is idiosyncratic: I, like any New Yorker, am a sucker for geographical specificity. (See, for instance, the way that Fountains of Wayne's Sick Day has made them one of my favorite bands, merely for the line "Lead us not into Penn Station.") And the New York of this AU is really perfect--Mulder stuck in traffic on Jorelmon and avoidng shoppers from the Macy's on Livingston, that Will's a student at Packer, of of all places, hot dogs at Coney Island and skating at Wollman Rink. It conjures images so familiar to me that I simply love reading about them. (Especially because Brooklyn Heights doesn't look like it's aged a day since the 1920s, so I can literally picture it.) I don't know if Prufrock's a New Yorker, but, if not, she did her homework.
The third element, which I think is the clincher, is the mythology. Remember that the X-Files mythology extends back to the Roswell crash and the Nazi genetic experiments; by the time this story is set, the Consortium's activities should be in full swing. And they are: the reproductive experiements we know about are being duplicated in this time, with catastrophic effects for the characters we love (as exist in canon). This story is actually set in the X-Files universe; just forty years earlier. It's compelling for exactly that reason.
Finally, the characters. A ton of regulars show up, in obvious roles (the Mulder and Scully families are as expected, the Lone Gunmen are Mulder's agent, lawyer, and accountant, AD Skinner is Arthur Dales's boss, CSM smokes and is evil in the Plaza's bar, Phoebe Green as Mulder's more than a little insane ex-wife, Diana Fowley and her son, Gibson; Josh Exley even shows up for a few). Their transformations into sensical characters from the time period are excellent. I am also a total sucker for well-done kidfic, which this is--both Mulder and Scully have kids at the beginning of the story, and it's believeable and heartbreaking and funny. The characterization of minor characters is beautiful, and Mulder and Scully, despite being transformed by their new time period, are themselves in recognizable ways.
In any case, it's a great story, I think--well-written, well-plotted, historically nuanced. I'd love to hear what you think of it--or of other fic that works for you despite the odd premise. I'm a sucker for pulling off the bizarre, really.