Publication News

The HungerI’ve had several pieces published recently, so I figured it was time to share the news. Today, my story “The Landscape of Lacrimation” came out at The Hunger. It’s a strange swirly tale written as an experimental piece. I often feel as though I don’t quite fit in, and I wanted to attempt to recreate that feeling in this story. The lyricism is over the top, and it’s written in second person. Both of these things are meant to keep the reading left feeling a little unmoored. It also contains dozens of slur words, which I’ve used outside of context, another technique meant to increase the sense of unease. As you might imagine, it’s not easy to place a story meant to make the reader uncomfortable, so I’m especially pleased that the editors at The Hunger took a chance on it.

The publication of Hath No Fury, which features my weird, futuristic mash-up of “Jack and the Beanstalk” and Nathaniel Hawthorne’s “Rappaccini Daughter,” has been pushed back again. It’s now listed with a July release date. However, I have seen the epub of the anthology and it’s a thing of beauty. Worth the wait, I promise.

Another piece scheduled to come out soon is my poem “C8 : A Tessellation of Faces, Wings, and other Obscure Things,” which will be featured in Alphanumeric, the online portion of the NonBinary Review Issue 17: A Wrinkle in Time.  I also have a poem, “The Savory Taste of Temptation,” in The Necro-Om-Nom-Nom-Icon, which was released in April. My contribution to this Lovecraftian-inspired collection came in the form of an amuse-bouche.

I have several other stories and poems currently out on submission, so I hope I will have more good news to share soon. In the meantime, I’m working on the final stages of my thesis, a short story collection titled The Anatomy of Melancholy.  Graduation is right around the corner, and I should have my MFA in hand July 16th. Stay tuned!

Big Poetry Giveaway

In the Forest of Forgettingpoisoned applesI’m giving away two poetry volumes for Big Poetry Month at The Storied Imaginarium. The first book up for grabs is In the Forest of Forgetting Paperback by Theodora Goss, and the second book is Poisoned Apples: Poems for You, My Pretty Hardcover by Christine Heppermann. Check out the link at The Storied Imaginarium for details.

Note: The giveaway ends on April 30th at midnight, so make sure to sign up soon.

Victorian Mores in a Modern World

Victorian1 In the years prior to the reign of Queen Victoria, fairy tales were dismissed and marginalized in English culture. Sense and sensibility ruled the school. According to Micheal Patrick Hearn, “Utilitarians had no use for fairy tales” (xxi). But with Victoria’s coronation in 1837, fantasy crept back into British nurseries in what is now coined as the “golden age for the literary fairy tale” (xix). Personally, I tend to gravitate towards the more savage wonder tales in the search for source material to seed my own work. Although I realize English fairy tales “were cleansed of the savagery and ethical ambiguity that had characterized many traditional stories,” I decided to tackle The Victorian Fairy Tale Book  by Micheal Patrick Hearn in order to expand my knowledge of the fairy tale (xix).

victorian2The collection starts out with “The King of the Golden Rivers” by John Ruskin. This fairy tale, which was published in 1851, is an ecological fairy tale that relies on the moral structure of the influence good and evil have on the environment. The second tale, “The Rose and the Ring” was written by William Makepeace Thackeray and drones on for 70 pages. Morality is a game of beauty and wit in this satire filled with the high-jinks of the upper class in “The Rose and the Ring.” By the time I finished the first two collected tales, I began to question my decision to annotate what was beginning to look like a truly tedious chore.

When I saw the next story was by Charles Dickens, I had hopes that were instantly dashed with the opening line: “There was once a King, and he had a Queen, and he was the manliest of his sex, and she was the loveliest of hers” (107). Although I’m aware Victorian fairy tales tended to be overtly moralizing, I was surprised at the overbearing comedic attempts in these opening stories. These pieces appeared unrelated to the more familiar German and Russian fairy tales, which tend to be populated with peasants instead of princesses. Oddly enough, these Victorian tales also feature actual fairies, a trend which also appears to contradict the traditional nature of fairy tales. In addition to the presence of fairies, Hearn attempts to forge a connection through the fantastical in his introduction: “Faerie contains many things besides elves and fays, and besides dwarfs, witches, trolls, giants, or dragons: it holds the seas, the sun, the moon, the sky; and the earth, and all things that are in it: tree and bird, water and stone, wine and bread, and ourselves, mortal men, when we are enchanted” (xvii). If this was his reasoning behind the type of stories encompassed in the fairy tale canon, I couldn’t help but wonder what wouldn’t be considered a part of Faerie.

victorian3In the end, I only recognized a few of the stories in the collection, but even these tales I’d loved as a child seemed saccharine and condescending when revisited as an adult. For instance, in “The Pied Piper of Hamelin” by Robert Browning all of the children were abducted and the adults who had transgressed were left to pay the price: “And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice,/ If we’ve promised them aught, let us keep our promise” (34). And, in “The Little Lame Prince and His Travelling Cloak” by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik, readers learn how it’s better to stay home instead of braving the terrors of travelling. Children are also instructed on the virtues of piety, bravery, patience, humbleness, and justice. In this tale, the prince becomes a king whose entire life is dedicated to his people: “He never gave them a queen. When they implored him to choose one, he replied that his country was his bride, and he desired no other. But perhaps the real reason was that he shrank from any change…” (188). Perhaps it’s just me, but I don’t see how afraid of change is a positive personality trait.

victorian4Not all was lost though; I did find a couple of stories populated with characters who begged for new lives in a modern age. “Goblin Market,” an epic poem penned by Christina Rossetti, paints a colorful portrait of Faerie and its enchanted fruit. The warning against temptation is hammered home in the lyric stylings, but there is something else hidden there, something resembling defiance. And I love it.

After deciding to save her curious sister from the curse that comes with eating fairy fruit, Lizzie arms herself with a silver penny and “At twilight, halted by the brook: /And for the first time in her life/began to listen and look” (202).  The crafty girl tricks the goblin into an orgiastic frenzy as they try to force her to eat their forbidden fruit. “Lizzie uttered not a word;/Would not open lip from lip/Lest they cram a mouthful in; But laughed in heart to feel the drip/Of juice that syrupped all her face,/And lodged in dimples in her chin…” (204). In the end, the juice and pulp revive her sister Laura from her enchanted fugue.

However, I can’t help but wonder how this erotically-charged tale might be twisted if instead of sisters, Lizzie and Laura were lovers: “Did you miss me?/Come and kiss me. Never mind my bruises,/ Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices/Squeezed from goblin fruits for you,/ Goblin pulp and goblin dew./ Eat me, drink me, love me;/For your sake I have braved the glen/ And had to do with goblin merchant men” (205). The possibilities are delicious, indeed.

victorian5Another of the stories in this collection that called to me was “The Necklace of Princess Fiorimonde” by Mary de Morgan. Although the Princess Fiorimonde is painted as an evil sorceress, I couldn’t help but root for her when she acquires a magic necklace that will save her from the unwanted fate of being married off to the highest bidder. As soon as a would-be husband closes his fingers over the chain, he is transformed into a bead and fated to remain as such until a time the chain is cut and the bead drops off. Using the weapons of beauty and charm, she ends up with quite a selection of brightly colored beads. Unfortunately, it is a Victorian fairy tale, so she is eventually defeated when she succumbs to vanity and impatience: “[T]he Princess, who in her rage and eagerness, forgot all else and…seized the string of beads to lift it from her neck, but no sooner had she taken it in her hands than they fell with a rattle to the earth and Fiorimonde herself was nowhere to be seen.” Once her wickedness was exposed, the kings and princes who had been gathered on the chain were released, but Fiorimonde was left strung as a bead on the magic chain: “Give her no other punishment than what she has chosen for herself. [L]et this string be hung up where all people can see it and see the one bead, and know the wicked Princess is punished for her sorcery, so it will be a warning to others who would do like her” (227). Personally, I wanted her to win seeing as the ensorcelled kings and princes were decidedly more interesting as beads.

All in all, the stories collected in The Victorian Fairy Tale Book offer a framework with which to view the society and culture at the time. Although, these particular fairy tales were difficult to wade through, they did pose some interesting questions about the place of moral lessons in literature. I suppose all stories contain elements of the cultural mores existing during the time they were conceived. What I find curious is how the moral questioning shifts over time. However, when looked at with a modern mindset and the very real dilemmas faced in contemporary times, the Victorian optimism that such a tepid trait as complacency will solve problems is laughable. In Victorian times, the monsters and witches were cut out from the fairy tale fabric. However, the world we live in today is anything but that. Give me the monsters. Give me the witches. We need them now, more than ever.

Work Cited

Hearn, Michael Patrick, editor. The Victorian Fairy Tale Book. Pantheon Books, 1988.

The Art of Cameos in a Fictional World

a feast of shadowsMy introduction to the work of the Australian writer Angela Slatter occurred when I stumbled across the Tor.com reprint of “St. Dymphna’s School of Poison Girls” in May 2015. The story unfolded in slow waves, and it lulled me with its seductive beauty. My initial interest in this story aligned with the title as I had been reading about St. Dymphna through an extension of my research on the origins of “Allerleirauh.” The fairy tale elements appeared in Slatter’s story, but they appeared in unfamiliar ways. Interest stoked, I obsessively sought out Slatter’s stories, and soon discovered a whole new world of fairy tales to explore. I was hooked.

Allerleirauh_by_Henry_Justice_Ford_(1892)_02
Allerleirauh by Henry Justice Ford (1892).

In 2016, the U.S. publication of Slatter’s short story collection A Feast of Sorrows made her work more accessible; her other publications were released as limited editions in the UK. (A Feast of Sorrows includes the first three stories in The Tallow-Wife, which was recently released by FableCroft as a limited edition hardcover.) After a couple of readings, I discovered patterns that tied the characters together in a world of the author’s own making. In addition to cameo character appearances, Slatter also utilized subverted fairy tale references as a means of creating familiarity with the unfamiliar—a technique I would like to duplicate in my own work.

About halfway through my first reading of A Feast of Shadows, I noticed the repetition of a character from an earlier story. I stopped for a moment, thought about it, and then decided it must have been a mistake. Another of these moments came about two-thirds of the way through the collection. I recognized another character and sorted back through the stories to find her. That was when I realized that Slatter had deliberately seeded her stories with bits from other narratives. And, not only did her characters show up again and again, but settings made repeat appearances as well. The effect was a growing sense of familiarity even though the stories are all set in a secondary world.

tallow wifeBellsholm, which “sprawls along the banks of the wide Bell River, loose-limbed as a sleeping giant,” is featured prominently in “By My Voice I Shall Be Known” and is linked to Ballantyne’s Coffin Emporium in “The Coffin-maker’s Daughter” (143). Downstream from Bellsholm is Breakwater, the location of “the Weeping Gate” and the refuge of the criminal mastermind Bethany Lawrence from “The Tallow-Wife” series. And, far off in distant Lodellan, sits the Cathedral with its ghostly guard of six wolfhounds. Slatter takes her readers on a tour of Lodellan’s quarters in “Sourdough” and then into the Cathedral’s secret passageways to the palace in “Sister, Sister” and “What Shines Brightest.”

Rusalka_Bilibin
Rusalka by Ivan Bilibin, 1934

At first glance, the mention of these places in various stories might appear to be an after-thought. However, the subtle hints strengthen the underlying network of commerce and immigration that add complexity to the stories’ common world. For instance, even though “By My Voice I Shall Be Known” takes place in Bellsholm, the protagonist is gifted with a promise in the shape of a silver thimble “all the way from Lodellan” (149). She is, however, betrayed by her lover, who returns from Breakwater with a pretty bride-to-be on a clipper named Revenant: “…it plied the seas then crept up rivers like ours, to dispatch passengers and some cargo—mostly high end, expensive and small, cargo and passengers both…” (150).

Several characters, including Mother Magnus and Emmaline make cameo appearances, but the one who first made me conscious of these repetitions was Hepsibah Ballantyne, the independent, murderous protagonist in “The Coffin-maker’s Daughter.” An older Hepsibah makes an appearance as a guest teacher in “St. Dymphna’s School for Poison Girls;” Ballantyne’s Coffin Emporium is mentioned in “By My Voice I Shall Be Known;” and a weathered headstone reveals the trace of the name ‘Hepsi…tyne’ in “The Tallow-Wife.”

bitterwood-bibleOnce I saw the threads, I began to wonder what other stories existed with these characters in them. In my hunt for hidden treasure, I reached out to the author through social media. According to Slatter, A Feast of Sorrows was a U.S. collection primarily cobbled together from reprints, including pieces from The Bitterwood Bible and Other Encounters and Sourdough and Other Stories. Over the last year, Slatter’s work has become more and more available to U.S. audiences. With every story I read, I search for more connections tied to the cohesive worlds Slatter builds, worlds that exist long after the reader has finished the last page. If nothing else, I’m eager to learn more about the fates of the people inhabiting the ocean harbor of Breakwater, the ruslka singing from the riverbank near Bellsholm, and the ghostly wolfhounds guarding the Cathedral in Lodellan. It doesn’t get much better than that.

Dr-Angela-Slatter
Dr Angela Slatter (Photo by David Pollitt, June 2010)

Author website: Angela Slatter

Select short fiction online:

Short fiction collections:

Novels:

 

Legends & Myths: Immortality in a Butterfly’s Wing

Butterflies have always fascinated me, which is just one of the reasons I wrote this article for a regional magazine years ago. With “puddle parties” right around the corner, I decided to share this piece on the legends and myths found in the Southwest. Enjoy!

buttery_To Serve BrookeShadenOne bright summer day, the Creator sat under a tree watching a group of laughing children at play. A brown pup romped through a riot of wildflowers. The sun lit a bright blue sky dotted with wispy, white clouds. A songbird landed in the branches overhead, loosing a shower of pine needles.

The Creator watched the play of shadow and sunlight and fallen yellow leaves fluttering here and there in the late summer breeze and as he watched these things he grew sad.

“Soon these children will grow old,” he thought. “And that puppy will become a tired, mangy dog. And the flowers will die and snow will cover the land.”

The Creator became so sad at these thoughts that he vowed to preserve the afternoon for the months ahead. “All these colors should be caught forever,” he said to the songbird that watched him overhead. “I will make something to gladden my heart, something for these children to enjoy.”

He took out his magic bag and in it he put the black from a laughing girl’s hair, the brown of the pup’s floppy ears, the yellow of the fluttering leaves, a bit of blue sky and a touch of white from a cloud passing by. He added green from the pine tree and the orange, purple and red from the flowers all around. Overhead, the songbird sang her merry tune and with a smile, the Creator tossed a bit of her melody into the mix.

butterfly_Passage MarcoMazzoniBrimming with happiness, he walked to the children and offered them the bulging sack. The beautiful girl with black hair opened the magic bag and out flew thousands and thousands of butterflies in every color ever created. Enchanted, the girl said she had never seen anything so beautiful. The children agreed and the Creator was glad.

And the children danced with joy under the fluttering wings of these new, fanciful creatures. Then one, with wings the color of a summer sky, landed on the Creator’s head and began to sing a beautiful song. The other butterflies joined in and the children stopped to listen to the chirping melody.

The songbird flew down to perch on the Creator’s shoulder. “When you created the birds you gave us each our own song. Now you have passed mine around to these new playthings of yours,” she scolded. “Isn’t it enough that they have all of the colors of the rainbow?”

The Creator thought a moment and said, “You are right. I should not have taken what was yours.”

And he took away the song from the butterflies, which continued to dance over the children’s heads.

“The are beautiful even so,” the Creator said.

And that is why butterflies are silent today.

This delightful Papago version of the creation of butterflies is only one of a fluttering myriad of butterfly tales told throughout the Southwest and far beyond. The butterfly has symbolized the human soul since antiquity. The Russian name for these colorful creatures is babochka and the Ancient Greeks called them psyche – both words for the soul. The common name of the butterfly comes from the Anglo Saxon word buterfleoge for “butter” and “flying creature,” which linguists believe was the way of identifying Europe’s common yellow brimstone butterfly.

butterfly_the sound of flying souls, part 1BrookeShaden

Of course, butterflies actually flitted onto the scene long before people started making up myths to account for them. Butterflies emerged at least 38 million years ago with the earliest known fossil discovered in Colorado’s Green River Shale. Today, there are nearly 18,500 known species of butterflies ranging in size from Queen Alexandria’s Birdwing with a wingspan of 11 inches to the diminutive Western Pygmy, which spreads out to less than half an inch. Butterflies can be found on nearly every part of the globe with the exception of Antarctica and the world’s oceans. They grace flowery fields, meadows, hillsides, stream banks, forest glades, deserts and alpine tundra. They play a crucial role in the ecosystem as pollinators and in the human imagination as symbols of creativity, joy and rebirth.

Nearly 400 species of butterflies – more than half of the total number found in the entire North American continent live in Arizona. The Tohono O’odham, once known as the Papago, focused on the sheer beauty of these insects, as some 240 species flutter through their southern Arizona homeland. The southeastern portion of the state has biological links to the Sierra Madre range and the tropics in Mexico and its varied plantlife and climate account for the region’s diverse butterfly population.

The Yaqui, another southwestern desert tribe, believe that butterflies portend the coming of rain. When they spot approaching butterflies, the Yaqui sing a rain song and throw white corn kernels or dried leaves in the air.

butterfly_Funny how secrets travel Federico BebberWhite butterflies, they say,in a row are flying.

White butterflies, they say, in a row are flying.

White butterflies, they say, in a row are flying.

White butterflies, they say, in a row are flying.

Over there, I, where the flower-covered sun comes out,

they are emerging, all through the wilderness world,

in a row they are flying.

White butterflies, they say, in a row are flying.

As this song would suggest, the best time to search out butterflies in the Southwest is in the rainy season between the months of July in September, which is when the adults are breeding and laying their eggs. The highest concentration of species in Arizona reside in the southeastern portion of the state – specifically in Santa Cruz, Cochise and Pima counties. Chances of finding butterflies increases when two habitats overlap. Some of the best, easily accessible butterfly watching areas include Sabino Canyon in the Santa Catalina Mountains, Madera and Florida Canyons in the Santa Rita Mountains, and Ramsey and Garden Canyons in the diverse Huachuca Mountain range. Along with discovering them near their favorite flowers, butterflies might also be found congregating in “puddle parties,” depressed wet spots where the insects gather to replace vital trace elements.

But you don’t have to venture south — butterflies and their stories can be found throughout the Southwest. In eastern Arizona, the Chemehuevi, also known as the Southern Paiute, often represent insects in the designs of their highly prized baskets. The popular pattern of the butterfly shows up in these coiled baskets, which are woven out of such raw materials as willow, devil’s claw and juncus.

butterfly_A View from a Hole MarcoMazzoniLike many ancient Southwestern cultures, the Hopi often utilize the symbolism of butterflies. Prehistoric Hopi pottery shows this affinity as does the three Hopi kachina with butterfly origins — Poli Sio Hemis Kachina (Zuni Hemis Butterfly Kachina), Poli Taka (Butterfly Man) and Poli Mana (Butterfly Girl). However, the butterfly assumed a more menacing aspect to the Aztecs in Mexico. The goddess Itzpapálotl, or Obsidian Butterfly, was represented as a strong ferocious goddess with butterfly wings and big claws on her hands and feet. In Mexico, many people still believe that a black butterfly at the door portends an impending death.

Several Arizona-based cultures drew similar, disquieting morals from the butterflies fluttering, zigzag, seemingly demented flight. The Zuni sacred butterfly, lahacoma, is believed to make people crazy, especially young girls who will follow the yellow butterfly wherever it may lead. This belief is similar to the story of the Apache Bear Dance, in which butterflies entice girls from the underworld. The Tewa of Arizona also warn against the temptation represented by this colorful insect in “Transforming Bath: Butterfly Seducer” — a tale where a girl ignores her work to follow a beautiful butterfly up a mountain. Once at the top, the butterfly turns into a wicked boy who then tosses the girl down to her death.

The Navajo use the symbolism of butterflies to warn against vanity, temptation and foolishness. The Navajo story of “The Two Maidens and the White Butterfly” furthers the folly of butterflies. When the hero of the tale catches the wicked White Butterfly, he splits open the enemy’s head with an ax and thousands of butterflies escape from the mortal wound. The wise hero pulls one of the butterflies out of the air and insists that it tell the others they can no longer enter the brain of man. “You will be of little use to the people,” he says. “Only when they catch you and put pollen on their legs and arms and say – ‘May I run swiftly, may my days be long, may I be strong in arm.’” Even so, the Navajo consider the perishable dust of the butterflies’ wings a subtle warning on the fragility of beauty.

In the spring, the Apache sing the sorrowful song of the Flower Maiden, which also details the creation of the butterfly:

butterfly_Restlessness Federico BebberIn the first days of the people, many warriors sought the favor of the beautiful Flower Maiden. But of them all, she loved only two – Hidden Love and Iron Courage. They each contended for her love, but not even the Sky Father could help her make the choice. Then fate stepped in and both warriors were called to a great battle against invaders coming from the north. Flower Maiden bid them each good-bye with a heavy heart. Many months passed as she waited for her warriors to return, but when the war party rode back into camp, neither of her loved ones returned with the victorious.

Flower Maiden, who had lost any chance of happiness, took her tears and set out to find the bodies of the warriors she still loved even in death. She searched the hills and plains for years, sundered from herself in her grief.  When she could find neither of her beloved warriors, she pleaded with the Sky Father. “Please help me find their resting place,” she cried. “Please help me find their lost souls.”

“It was not my wish that your promised ones should die,” said the Sky Father. “But with them I also touched many others and in sorrow, I covered all of their bloodied bodies with soil and grass.”

The Flower Maiden lamented. “Then I shall never find them.”

Her sorrow grieved the Sky Father so, he ordered the ground to yield flowers in the colors and patterns of each fallen warrior’s shield to aid Flower Maiden in her lonely search. And when he realized she could not find the battlefield on which her beloved warriors had died in a single lifetime, he turned her into a beautiful butterfly so that each spring her spirit could wander among the flowers in search of her loved ones. And perhaps one day she will find them.

In the meantime, the Creator has given us the butterflies — ephemeral as the powdered memory of love lost, the black from a laughing girl’s hair, the yellow of falling leaves or the halcyon blue of a summer sky.

butterfly_the sound of flying souls, part 2 BrookeShaden

Images: To Serve by Brooke ShadenPassage by Marco Mazzoni, The Sound of Flying Souls, pt. 1 by Brooke Shaden, Funny How Secrets Travel by Federico Bebber, A View from a Hole by Marco Mazzoni, Restlessness by Federico Bebber, and The Sound of Flying Souls, pt. 2 by Brooke Shaden. All Rights Reserved by the artists.

 

 

Hath No Fury! Story Announcement!

It has been a year since a traumatic twist of fate sent me hurtling 20 mph, face-first into the gravel-strewn asphalt near the Broadmoor in Colorado Springs. Just days after celebrating the fact that I survived that cycling accident and all of the related complications, I received notice that my short story “A Seed Planted” had been selected for inclusion in the Ragnarok Publications anthology Hath No Fury. Nearly 400 submissions were received, all competing for the one coveted slot left open in this curated collection. I’m overjoyed to report that “A Seed Planted” has been awarded that spot and will be published alongside stories written by some of my favorite writers including Seanan McGuire, Carol Berg, Nisi Shawl, Delilah S. Dawson, and Lucy A. Synder.

hath no fury.jpgI couldn’t be more thrilled with the acceptance issued by co-editor Melanie R. Meadors (science fiction and fantasy author, blogger at The Once and Future Podcast), and the realization that I will be joining the incredible line-up of talented authors and artists associated with the project. The anthology description is as follows: “Hath No Fury contains…meaningful stories that defy the stereotypes. In this anthology, readers should expect to find super-smart, purpose-driven, ultra-confident heroines. Here, it’s not the hero who does all the action while the heroine smiles and bats her eyelashes; Hath No Fury’s women are champions, not princesses in distress. Embracing the strong warriors to the silent but powerful, to even the timid who muster up the bravery to face down a terrible evil, the women of Hath No Fury will make their indelible marks and leave you breathless for more.”

Sign me up.

Hath No Fury will include an introduction by Margaret Weis and nearly two dozen stories written by such speculative fiction authors including Seanan McGuire, Lian Hearn, Elaine Cunningham, Carol Berg, Gail Z. Martin, William C. Dietz, Nisi Shawl, Dana Cameron, Django Wexler, Delilah S. Dawson, Philippa Ballantine, Anton Stout, Elizabeth Vaughan, Bradley P. Beaulieu, M. L. Brennan, Michael R. Underwood, Erin M. Evans, Eloise J. Knapp, Marc Turner, S. R. Cambridge, and Lucy A. Synder. How incredible is that?

In addition to the stellar story selections, Hath No Fury will also include short essays by Robin HobbSarah Kuhn, Diana Pho, Monica ValentinelliK. Tempest Bradford, and Shanna Germain. But this anthology is not just a collection of stories and essays, it will also be filled with original art. Each piece of fiction will be individually illustrated, with the majority of the illustrations completed by Oksana Dmitrienko. However, the collection will also feature art by Wayne Miller and Keri Hayes, who were selected from the open art submission window offered as one of the project’s Stretch Goals.

The acceptance of my story also hinged on the open submission window made possible by all of the people who backed the anthology’s Kickstarter campaign. “A Seed Planted” is a tale about family, justice, and revenge. It was one of those stories that surprised me even as it was being written and I’m so glad I will be able to share it with you all soon. Hath No Fury is looking at a publication date in August. Stay tuned!

Sex and Sensuality in “The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories”

Bluebeard biffnoI was first introduced to the work of Angela Carter in the late 1990s when I met Terri Windling in Tucson. The first Angela Carter collection I read was The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories and, since that time, I’ve gone through several copies of this slim volume. Although it is one of my all-time favorite books, it’s been a while since I’ve sat down to read it; and this is the first time where I’ve forced myself to focus on the stories as a writer instead of as a reader.

This is not an easy task. It’s too easy to slip into Carter’s lush prose, her quick wit, her decisive flair. However, as I slowed down and took a closer look this collection of short stories, I noticed that not only has her rich prose influenced my own writing style, but there are also themes she visits that are close to the ones I tend to revisit in my own work. Unlike me, Carter has no fear in peeling back layer after layer. I tend to stay closer to the surface of things, which often hinders me. This reading turned me inwards; the stories became both a revelation and a reflection of the details drawn too finely or not at all, techniques I need to concentrate on as I continue the pursuit of an independent voice and style.

Bluebeard Gustav DoreThe titular story, “The Bloody Chamber,” has always been my favorite in the collection: the way Carter uses the masculine scents of tobacco and leather; the unveiling of the bride as though she was an artichoke voluptuously stripped of its leaves; and the “a choker of rubies, two inches wide, like an extraordinarily precious slit throat.” Perhaps it’s due to my own escape from domestic violence, twice, that draws me to this particular tale, but whatever the reason, the image of the bride and the beast is among my favorite themes. When I’ve attempted my own versions of this story, I’ve always felt that I’ve fallen flat, that I could never approach Carter’s brilliance in the unveiling of this theme. It wasn’t until I reread the story as a writer that I discovered a beat that I’ve danced around—the “sheer carnal avarice” Carter flirts with throughout.

Bluebeards last wife hogretAs the story continues, Carter emphasizes this sexual extravagance at every opportunity: the “great pistons ceaselessly thrusting the train;” the “amniotic salinity of the ocean” surrounding the Marquis’ palace; the heavy, hooded white lilies that “stain you.” The thing that has always bothered me about this story becomes evident when read from this alternate point-of-view. The protagonist stays passive. She never evolves to a point where she even attempts to defend herself. Instead, it is the girl’s mother who charges to the rescue. The wild-eyed mother with her revolver is the true heroine of this story. She is the heroine I want to write.

Beauty and the Beast Toshiaki KatoThe presence of carnal sensuality and raw feminine power continues as a common thread through the rest of the collection’s stories. In “The Courtship of Mr. Lyon,” a twist on “Beauty and the Beast,” the reader is tantalized in the opening with a road “white and unmarked as a spilled bolt of bridal satin” before moving on to experience the gentleness of the beast’s kiss and “the stiff bristles of his muzzle grazing her skin.” Things take a darker turn in “The Tiger’s Bride” when the protagonist, who was lost by her father in a card game to a tiger posing as a man, gives up her humanity to embrace the beast within herself: “each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shining hairs.”

The Bloody Chamber Bluebeard Arthur RackhamAlthough I can write about violence, I have difficulty with raw sexuality. By revisiting Carter’s collection, I have been able to see ways in which I can heighten sensory description in seemingly unrelated scenes, which then create a build-up to the carnality I’d like to add to my own collection of work. Carter flirts with dangerous themes. She dares us to dance with the Erl-King, to contemplate the meaning of love in Nosferatu’s mansion, to howl at the full moon. And what other purpose is there to writing, if not as using it as a means to shed light in the darkness?

Over the years, I’ve learned that everyone has “a story,” a few people have a few stories, and yet others carry a multitude within them. Carter carried the multitude. She wrote as many of these as she could and, by doing so, gave her readers the opportunity to recognize themselves in her words. I hope to follow her example.

LIttle Red Riding Hood Arthur RackhamI know “the carnivore incarnate.” I’ve lived with the wolf that “cannot listen to reason.” I’ve known more than one man with “a wolf’s heart.” And I think Carter did too. I think she knew the wolves intimately. But, instead of letting the company of wolves devour her, she picked up a pen and wielded it like a knife. “Since her fear did her no good, she ceased to be afraid.”  And with that, Carter let the forest close “upon her like a pair of jaws.” I like this image. I think it’s time to let the forest close upon me as well. I think it’s time to delve deep into my fears and hopes, to put them on the page. Who knows? Perhaps I will be like Carter, laughing at the threats that once faced me. Perhaps, like Carter, I too will realize I’m “nobody’s meat.”

The Bloody Chamber Cover2Work Cited

Carter, Angela. The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories. 1979. Penguin Books, 1993.

Images: “Bluebeard” by biffno, “Bluebeard” by Gustav Dore, “Bluebeard’s Last Wife” by hogret, “Beauty and the Beast” by Toshiaki Kato, “Bluebeard” by Arthur Rackham, and “Little Red Riding Hood” by Arthur Rackham.