meretricula (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
meretricula) wrote2008-03-30 02:45 pm
meretricula) wrote2008-03-30 02:45 pm
fic. sort of.
behold, the love child of my two passions: slash and academia. I think I may have succeeded in writing the most pretentious, referential ficlet in the history of the internet - but no. this is the web. there must be something worse out there. written for the love-a-thon over at lucyjanesparlor.
odi et amo, and other contradictions
"All right, Gaius, put the bloody stylus down."
Catullus looked up, absently knuckling red-rimmed eyes with his free hand. "What?"
"Clodia's a whore. We all warned you. You didn't listen, which is frankly par for the course where you're concerned, not that I'm bitter or anything. And I know it's all very poetic and avant-garde to sit around crying and writing your awful womanish elegiacs about how badly she's treated you. But enough is bloody well enough!"
"Do you really think my elegiacs are awful?" Catullus asked pathetically.
Veranius heaved a disgusted sigh and sat next to Catullus on the bed. "Mostly just their subject matter. Look, would you please stop crying, wash your face and come to Fabullus' party tonight? We've hardly seen you in weeks, and we're all worried about you."
"I've been writing!"
"Yes." Veranius fixed him with a level stare and laid a hand on his thigh gently enough to give the lie to his harsh words. "Which makes you a good poet, a celibate lover, and a terrible friend. Come on; the tablets will still be there tomorrow."
Catullus glanced at his friend sidelong, suddenly aware that he was unwashed, unshaven and frankly a bit revolting in appearance - and that Veranius didn't seem to mind. "Will you?"
Veranius blinked. "Will I what?"
"Still be here tomorrow."
"If you want me to be, then... oh, you tosser!" Veranius snapped, snatching his hand back when Catullus brushed his fingers along the back of it. "If this whole mopey fit over Clodia has been one of your sorry attempts to get me into bed - "
"No, no, I've been terribly depressed," Catullus assured him blithely. "How else could I get in the mood to write my verses? I might feel like writing love poetry tonight, though," he added with a ridiculous leer.
"Oh, for... fine," Veranius gave in with ill grace. "But we're going to Fabullus' first. And no bloody elegiacs!"
"Hendecasyllables, just for you," Catullus promised. "Here, I'll go get cleaned up and then we can leave." As he bounded out of bed with newfound energy and called for his slave to bring water and clothes, Veranius picked up the discarded tablet.
"This is quite good, actually," he remarked when Catullus presented himself, fully dressed and ready to go. "Od' et amo. I like it."
Catullus grinned even wider. "I like you."
several Catullus poems are referenced throughout:
IX. ad Veranium (translation), LXXXV. (translation) and, rather in passing, XII. ad Matrucinum Asinium (translation). I was totally going to do my own translations, but then I was lazy. Maybe later.
Latin FTW!
ETA: now with new shiny and slightly more coherent sequel! who knows, maybe there will be more!
lucyjanesparlor.odi et amo, and other contradictions
"All right, Gaius, put the bloody stylus down."
Catullus looked up, absently knuckling red-rimmed eyes with his free hand. "What?"
"Clodia's a whore. We all warned you. You didn't listen, which is frankly par for the course where you're concerned, not that I'm bitter or anything. And I know it's all very poetic and avant-garde to sit around crying and writing your awful womanish elegiacs about how badly she's treated you. But enough is bloody well enough!"
"Do you really think my elegiacs are awful?" Catullus asked pathetically.
Veranius heaved a disgusted sigh and sat next to Catullus on the bed. "Mostly just their subject matter. Look, would you please stop crying, wash your face and come to Fabullus' party tonight? We've hardly seen you in weeks, and we're all worried about you."
"I've been writing!"
"Yes." Veranius fixed him with a level stare and laid a hand on his thigh gently enough to give the lie to his harsh words. "Which makes you a good poet, a celibate lover, and a terrible friend. Come on; the tablets will still be there tomorrow."
Catullus glanced at his friend sidelong, suddenly aware that he was unwashed, unshaven and frankly a bit revolting in appearance - and that Veranius didn't seem to mind. "Will you?"
Veranius blinked. "Will I what?"
"Still be here tomorrow."
"If you want me to be, then... oh, you tosser!" Veranius snapped, snatching his hand back when Catullus brushed his fingers along the back of it. "If this whole mopey fit over Clodia has been one of your sorry attempts to get me into bed - "
"No, no, I've been terribly depressed," Catullus assured him blithely. "How else could I get in the mood to write my verses? I might feel like writing love poetry tonight, though," he added with a ridiculous leer.
"Oh, for... fine," Veranius gave in with ill grace. "But we're going to Fabullus' first. And no bloody elegiacs!"
"Hendecasyllables, just for you," Catullus promised. "Here, I'll go get cleaned up and then we can leave." As he bounded out of bed with newfound energy and called for his slave to bring water and clothes, Veranius picked up the discarded tablet.
"This is quite good, actually," he remarked when Catullus presented himself, fully dressed and ready to go. "Od' et amo. I like it."
Catullus grinned even wider. "I like you."
several Catullus poems are referenced throughout:
IX. ad Veranium (translation), LXXXV. (translation) and, rather in passing, XII. ad Matrucinum Asinium (translation). I was totally going to do my own translations, but then I was lazy. Maybe later.
Latin FTW!
ETA: now with new shiny and slightly more coherent sequel! who knows, maybe there will be more!
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Also, this fic is goddamn adorable.
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welcome, new friend! &hearts Latin &hearts
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Oh Latin. I have long since been seduced into Greek, and (*gasp*) history. But I guess the Romans are still okay.
Thucydides is cooler
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~wince~ I would only spare Theocritus in my Greek author killing spree. maybe. I gave up about a paragraph and a half into the Funeral Oration. but I suppose it is not your fault for being seduced by their wiles! ^_~