Lately I've been endeavoring to fill in the yawning week-long voids between chapters of
bbcphile's Harboured and Encompassed
http://archiveofourown.org/works/9135700?page=2&show_comments=true&view_full_work=true#comments by reading through all the Hornblower novels when I'm home, and listening to the free Librivox audiobook of Moby Dick when I'm driving or
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I was taken aback by what the essay said about Billy Budd, too. Another sad story read in abridged form as a kid. I had thought it was just about an innocent destroyed by military discipline. But here the poor boy is compared to a bead of ejaculate. Ewww. Again, a little more information than I wanted.
I have to confess that, as a monogamous heterosexual, I think the level of slash I find appealing is more of "two very pretty and mostly straight guys happen to hug and cuddle and comfort each other a lot, and okay maybe they even have sex, lots of it, because I want them to be happy, but they don't swish around or act stereotypically gay in any other way, because that would put them outside the category of guys that I or my secret inner Mary Sue would theoretically be attracted to, or at least have a chance with." This is probably doublethink. (Actually, in practice my real self, while still single, did once have a desperate crush on my clearly very gay ballroom dance partner, but it was just so pathetically and obviously hopeless, you know?)
So, what am I saying? Ishmael and Queequeg cuddling in bed are really cute. So are Horatio and Archie, cuddling on Archie's sofa. But I also like some parallel universes where Archie is straight, and falls in love with a worthy female who strong and kind, and is not too obviously some fan girl's wish-fulfilling avatar. (I don't really care whether Horatio is sometimes straight or not.) Purple heads are not cute. Maybe that's what I'm saying. I don't know.
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