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The Pastiche Challenge: Part Two - Wemyss's Appalling Hobby:
From the Party Guilty of Committing 'Gate of Ivory, Gate of Horn'
The Pastiche Challenge: Part Two
The base stories are up, here: http://www.livejournal.com/users/wemyss/9101.html. Late entries are more than welcome.

Now, whether you put up a base story or not, you are welcome to rewrite any or all of them, at any length, in the style of any one or more of the following authors, chosen, I may add, for their ease of parody (and suggestions remain welcome):

Authorised Version, The
Boswell or Johnson
Bronte (any)
Conan Doyle
Gilbert (and Sullivan)
Grimm, Bros
Innes (Michael)
James (Henry)
Seuss, Dr
Somerville & Ross
Sturluson (or any ‘saga’)
White (Edmund)
White (TH)
Wolfe (Tom)

When you’ve done so, post a link in the comments to this post.

I shan’t impose an actual deadline, but I plan to put together a master list (which I can easily add to as time marches on) sometime in mid-November, say, the 13th prox.

[ETA: I repeat, if you think of another author, not listed here, to mimic, go for it, be it Wodehouse or Fleming, Grossmith or Borges or Jerome K Jerome, Anthony Price or ‘Miss Read’ or Barbara Cartland or Kazuo Ishiguro or VS Naipaul. No permission is required.]

Have fun.

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(Deleted comment)
wemyss From: wemyss Date: October 14th, 2005 09:32 pm (UTC) (Link)


... Is not the only one in danger of rupturing something through laughing.

That is beyond praise.
wemyss From: wemyss Date: October 15th, 2005 06:13 pm (UTC) (Link)

My First Batch of Responses.

eagles_rock From: eagles_rock Date: October 16th, 2005 04:53 pm (UTC) (Link)

Harry, or The Seeker (Authorised Version, The)

Based (v. loosely) on frances_jane's tale of Harry leaving Draco to find the last Horcrux.

But happier - Old Testament Harry gets wisdom.

wemyss From: wemyss Date: October 16th, 2005 05:38 pm (UTC) (Link)

Bloody Brilliant.

It merits a setting by Parry, Stanford, or Howells.
eagles_rock From: eagles_rock Date: October 16th, 2005 06:30 pm (UTC) (Link)

You are too kind...

... I was really scared to post this, my first ever fanfic-type effort, and thought it not really up-to-snuff.

Your Faulkner was glorious and your Wodehouse bang-on.

I have a back-burner New Testament!Harry also about to leave Draco and go after the sodding Horcrux. frances_jane will look upon my works and despair.
wemyss From: wemyss Date: October 16th, 2005 10:36 pm (UTC) (Link)

Kind, But Accurate.

I can hardly wait for the NT version. Fran will be pickled tink.

And thank you for yr kind words abt my entry.
jennavere From: jennavere Date: October 16th, 2005 11:16 pm (UTC) (Link)

The old college try...

My own Schoolferret in the style of a Shakespearian Comedy:


The Taming of the Ferret by the Bard

Act I. Scene I. – Hogwarts. HARRY’S bedchamber. HARRY and DRACO together on HARRY’S bed.


Ronald. O Wretched Day! Verily I swear
by Merlin’s lengthy beard that such a sight
hath never come to sear mine eyes ere now!
Alas cruel Fate! ‘Twould truly have been kinder
should my eyes be burned by mean Skrewt’s fire,
or forced to look direct upon a Basilisk,
than e’er to bear such sight as this!

Harry. Beloved friend, I vow thou see’st
not what’st thou envisions! Reason can be manifest
within thy heart if thou would’st only listen!

Ron. My dearest mate, as flesh and blood I do love thee.
But no honeyed words can justify this travesty!
In thine own bed lies a youth true fair in face, but not in heart.
Though he may looketh like the lamb, in truth he is the slyest fox,
and thou cavorteth with him in ways of which I dare not speak!

Har. I cannot give lie to that which thine own eyes can truly see;
Yet I would’st swear to thee that things are never as they seem.

Ron. Born of meanest mould thou thinkest me,
if ye believe to take me for a fool!
Thou seeth fit to lay abed with such a rogue,
and dressed as if thou plan’st to ride thy horse for days.
And doth thou perch a raucous cap upon thy saucy head?

Har. Forsooth, my clothing I cannot deny, but dearest friend,
should I but have the chance to tell you true –

Ron. There is no truth beyond this; thou walkest not forthright.
For in thy bed yon flaxen youth wears naught but maiden’s dress,
and from his head spring ferret ears
impish as the heart which beats within his chest.

Har. Thou speakest true, but can’st thou ken,
that the eyes may tell untruths?

Ron. O what past sins did I commit, for such a punishment deserved?
Verily, were Cupid soused, his arrows so astray could not have gone.
For in thy hand thou holdest tight the most delectable of sweets –
a sugared cream with which to coat the milky lad beneath thee.

Har. A sugared cream? To coat yon boy? Such nonsense speaketh thee!
‘Tis merely chance that finds this here; I swear, no more, no less.

Ron. O Cursed Night! My woes end not there!
Yet one more indignity with which my eyes are heaped:
Young youth upon thy wayward bed lies captive in his chains;
Mailed up for thee to lewdly wreck thy wicked will upon!

Har. Beloved friend, I swear to thee, by all the truths in heaven,
an explanation lies in me to clarify this madness.

Ron. Thou would’st swear it so? Then upon our friendship
tell me true: If not for pleasure for thy both, what is the purpose
of this youth who warms thy wanton bed?

Har. Words fail me for the moment,
but a thought will surely come–

Draco. Forsooth, young Weasley, have no fear.
‘Tis I, the flaxen youth, who speaks. And I do swear
thy dearest friend and I play not in Aphrodite’s temple.
All Hallow’s Eve is drawing near!
Verily, we have the need of costumes for festivities.

Har. He speaks the truth! If truer words have e’er been spoke,
then Boy Who Liveth no more shall I be!
The flaxen youth, yon Malfoy heir, hath given thee our reasons.

Ron. All Hallow’s Eve! But naturally! In truth I should have guessed!
To think that I believed thine own selves as guilty of salaciousness!
Verily, I thought to see indulgence in a wantonness that hath no equal.
Forsooth, I was mistaken! Carry on, fine gentlemen.
I shall leave you to your bidding.

[Exit RONALD.]

Dra. Harry, love, by what chance do you lend creed
that managed the young Weasley by my words I did succeed?

Har. Draco mine, not just a smack, but all your words he did believe.
For the fairness of thy face belies a serpent’s tongue so keen.
A century and more should pass, ere young Ronald heard thee false.
Now darling pet, my dearest mouse,
prepare thyself for ravishment beyond what mortal man hath e’er seen.


wemyss From: wemyss Date: October 17th, 2005 01:58 pm (UTC) (Link)


My compliments to yr college, if that's a 'try'.
jennavere From: jennavere Date: October 17th, 2005 05:58 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: Brill.


Thank you kindly. I'm not an English major by any stretch of the imagination, so this challenge is, well, challenging for me. But it's really fun.

I'm going to redo your story (about the green tea, it was a brilliant drabble btw) next, I'm just trying to decide in what style.

Thanks for putting this all together!
wemyss From: wemyss Date: October 17th, 2005 07:11 pm (UTC) (Link)

Thank YOU.

And I can hardly wait to see what you make of the green tea, be it the Tale of Genji or Boswell's Life of Johnson.
nineveh_uk From: nineveh_uk Date: October 21st, 2005 10:40 am (UTC) (Link)

Re: The old college try...

Brilliant. Utterly.
jennavere From: jennavere Date: October 22nd, 2005 04:44 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: The old college try...

Oh, thank you so much! I spent a lot of time re-reading Shakespeare's comedies before attempting to re-write in Shakespeare's style, though really, who could ever do the Bard justice? But it was really, really fun, in a very challenging sort of way.

Thanks again!
stylophile From: stylophile Date: October 17th, 2005 05:48 pm (UTC) (Link)

Homer, all the way...

Let me say that I very much enjoyed this challenge, even though Homer was possibly one of the easier authors to emulate. Here's 'Warmth' rewritten...


Cunning Draco, the son of Lucius, cursed the great gods for the night’s cold as, having climbed the steps to the door, he clutched a scroll bearing the words Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Draco’s thoughts were dark, like the swirling tempest which traps a dove in its force, clouding its white feathers with shadow. He exclaimed aloud to the gods in manner of the supplicant Orestes. “Gods, would he turn me away at the door? Whither would I go should he do so? I pray that Aphrodite might fill his heart with love so that he, like brave Achilles, might behave as befits a man who is kind to his supplicants.”

And so he prayed and knocked on the door and waited for a sound.

Draco was not of good cheer as he waited without sign from his quarry or the gods themselves in fair Olympus. With Aphrodite having been beseeched, cunning Draco sought next to turn to Father Zeus as his last hope for salvation when the door opened, gaping as though as the jaws of Tartarus. In that wide maw stood brave Harry Potter, a distinguished warrior.

“Draco, son of Lucius?” Harry asked. “Why do you come here?”

The infamous pride of the long-begotten Malfoys forbade cunning Draco begging for sanctuary.

“I come for assistance,” he spoke, mindful of the long journey that had roughened his appearance to the point at which he might have been mistaken for a common plebeian.

“How can I help?” It was as though the great genetrix herself had breathed warmth into Harry’s features, for they were as healthy as an Olympian’s. Stark was the contrast made between the two foes, for Draco, cruelly treated by a Euripidean Alcmena, was colder than the spirits in Hades.

“I do not come out of choice,” Draco replied with a certain haughtiness. “I come because I must. I require lodging, for I am a hunted man.”

Harry looked at him with Paris’s keen, archer’s eyes.

“That’s all well but I am unable to—”

“I beg of you!” Draco exclaimed, holding forth his hands and forsaking his once great pride. “You must let me stay! You are the hero of many, why can you not act for my salvation?”


“You must help me! For I fear that without some act of charity I shall perish!”


“But you must help me! By Heracles! I am in dire need and should I not find the aid which I seek then I shall surely be cast into Hades, doomed to roam the atria and barred from the fields of Elysium. Pray, do not allow Charon his payment! My obols are better spent on the earth.”

“You must listen to me!”

“Well? What have you to say?”

“All I would say is that I cannot grant you your own chambers, but my own may be shared, should you so wish.”

“I see.”

“Pray, enter,” said Harry, opening the door and beckoning Draco forth. “I have some excellent Falernian prepared.”
wemyss From: wemyss Date: October 17th, 2005 07:09 pm (UTC) (Link)

In song I greet Thee and all other Goddesses!

Thank you so much, for playing and for so superb an entry.

So glad you joined us; that was brill.
eagles_rock From: eagles_rock Date: October 18th, 2005 10:08 am (UTC) (Link)

Brothers, Unite!

Based on jennavere's story where Draco turns up at Harry's door looking for shelter. Draco's been expanding his reading whilst on the run.

The Communist Manifesto. (or, K. Marx and F. Engels)


wemyss From: wemyss Date: October 18th, 2005 02:31 pm (UTC) (Link)

A Spectre Is Haunting This Challenge.

The spectre of laughing one's arse off.

God - or rather, Objective Forces of History - but that's sly and funny. Thanks.
eagles_rock From: eagles_rock Date: October 18th, 2005 06:00 pm (UTC) (Link)

Very glad to hear it.

I have no idea how other people are going to view these scribblings; after I posted this I had to spend the next 4 hours away from net access and was mortified that I had posted it. (This post is not a fish and requires no consoling reply).

Thank you for this challenge; not only has it prompted me to write, but I've read some entertaining pieces along the way, both from the contributors and to re-acquaint myself with the authors. I truly envy people who can do these in a hour, without a thought; I suspect you and a few others around here are in that happy band. Maybe some day, but the practising in public is lethal.
From: lucentliz Date: October 23rd, 2005 12:07 am (UTC) (Link)

My entry

wemyss From: wemyss Date: October 23rd, 2005 01:56 pm (UTC) (Link)

Herr Gott im Himmel.

THAT's a classic. Brill, love, simply brill. Classic Welstchmalz.
From: lucentliz Date: October 23rd, 2005 09:17 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: Herr Gott im Himmel.

Why thank you for that ^^

... and for the challenge in the first place -- it was simply genius.
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