What an excellent, brilliant story. It completely blew me away.
I have to admit that I found it difficult to keep reading; I'm sure it's a painful topic for many people. I remembered thinking even before I'd finished the first section, "Ouch, that's hitting below the belt" and I wasn't sure I would be able to, or even want to, finish the story. But of course there's really no belt here and there's nothing exploitative in your story--only lots of peace, quiet beauty, the grace of acceptance--and my initial reluctance/aversion to this story has everything to do with me being afraid to remember or think about letting go and saying goodbye.
I loved the wisdom you've written into your Fraser, Ray, and Ray. There were so many brilliant moments throughout. In particular: Fraser's "I know it's considered inappropriate, in conventional social interchanges, to talk about one party's impending death, but I would hope that you and I could continue the disregard of social convention that always made our partnership so enjoyable."
And RayK's "Yo! Fraser! Vecchio here wants to know if there's going to be a funeral or something in Chicago."
Their not skirting the subject of death (if anything, they stepped all over the subject and sat down on it to have tea) made me smile. I could see Fraser and these two men who meant the world to him having these inane, crazy conversations about death and not have them be maudlin. The meaning is all there in the words and in the silences. It's just so them--and when has any of them ever *not* faced a problem head-on (and with some gallows humor thrown in for good measure)?
The small talk that they make is never really small talk. Vecchio finally saying goodbye near the end really moved me. ("he knew without question it was Fraser, the Fraser he'd carried around in his head those years, who'd kept him off those and led him onto the one he had gone down, the one that led to his beautiful wife and his clean white house on the water and his good life.)
Great stories don't necessarily have to make the reader all think-y and reflect-y (in fact, I like to avoid them and just sit here and look pretty), but this story did that and much, much more. It's excellent and courageous and haunting. Bravo.
Not that whether the reader cried should be a measure of the success of the story (HA! I bet y'all are keeping a head count, aren't ya, you Team Angst mafia!? Yeah, I've figured you out...) but a few hours after I read this, I kinda had a moment where the vegetables in my dinner made me inexplicably teary.
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Date: 2007-11-05 04:30 am (UTC)I have to admit that I found it difficult to keep reading; I'm sure it's a painful topic for many people. I remembered thinking even before I'd finished the first section, "Ouch, that's hitting below the belt" and I wasn't sure I would be able to, or even want to, finish the story. But of course there's really no belt here and there's nothing exploitative in your story--only lots of peace, quiet beauty, the grace of acceptance--and my initial reluctance/aversion to this story has everything to do with me being afraid to remember or think about letting go and saying goodbye.
I loved the wisdom you've written into your Fraser, Ray, and Ray. There were so many brilliant moments throughout. In particular: Fraser's "I know it's considered inappropriate, in conventional social interchanges, to talk about one party's impending death, but I would hope that you and I could continue the disregard of social convention that always made our partnership so enjoyable."
And RayK's "Yo! Fraser! Vecchio here wants to know if there's going to be a funeral or something in Chicago."
Their not skirting the subject of death (if anything, they stepped all over the subject and sat down on it to have tea) made me smile. I could see Fraser and these two men who meant the world to him having these inane, crazy conversations about death and not have them be maudlin. The meaning is all there in the words and in the silences. It's just so them--and when has any of them ever *not* faced a problem head-on (and with some gallows humor thrown in for good measure)?
The small talk that they make is never really small talk. Vecchio finally saying goodbye near the end really moved me. ("he knew without question it was Fraser, the Fraser he'd carried around in his head those years, who'd kept him off those and led him onto the one he had gone down, the one that led to his beautiful wife and his clean white house on the water and his good life.)
Great stories don't necessarily have to make the reader all think-y and reflect-y (in fact, I like to avoid them and just sit here and look pretty), but this story did that and much, much more. It's excellent and courageous and haunting. Bravo.
Not that whether the reader cried should be a measure of the success of the story (HA! I bet y'all are keeping a head count, aren't ya, you Team Angst mafia!? Yeah, I've figured you out...) but a few hours after I read this, I kinda had a moment where the vegetables in my dinner made me inexplicably teary.