I had read a few books by Carter. Seen a few videos. And was mildly amused by how she was labelled by so many as a feminist, in regards to the pseudo LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME! feminist routine of the Now.
I found marvel in her drawing together of classic macabre fairytales – (who could ever forget the Erl King! or the mother riding horseback, revolver in hand, as the blind organ grinder wailed at his failure to save her daughter more than his untimely demise soon to come…) – and bringing human sexuality and its myriad dynamics and episodes to the fore within a mystical, magical, gorgeously drawn in words realm.
The voyage of Marianne to find Jewel and everything he and She represent, both wittingly and unwittingly, is a beautifully savage poem of the tame and the wild. Echoes of Society in larval form when written, which have become our reality.
“A draught made the flames of the candles dance and the air grew thick with the smell of hot wax. Marianne’s eyes had grown more and more accustomed to the candlelight and she made out knobs and swags of craving in the ceiling, flowers, cherubs, jacks-in-the-green, death’s heads, hourglasses and memento mori, all covered with dust. Trunks, chests and cases were littered everywhere, covered with dusty utensils and more books even than in her father’s study. He must have a special cart to himself to transport them all. Yellow weeds blossomed in the walls and somewhere moisture dripped.”
Its raw and edgy and brutal and wise…
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