A reading of the music video for 'Princess of China' (by Coldplay feat Rihanna)

'Princess of China' by Coldplay (feat Rihanna) . . . is a really beautifully constructed song! The lyrics are pretty straightforward I thought (seem to be about a couple's break-up) and the vocals are pretty sublime. The music video, however, did raise some questions, made the song way more fascinating than it was initially . . . so I thought I'd do a short reading of it for you guys. Be warned, I'll be deploying some poetic license and perhaps cherry-picking symbology along the way:)

First off, the title 'Princess of China'. Obviously, a strange reference to the Orient—strange because, well . . . this reference doesn't appear in the song at all afterwards. Also, what on earth would either the Orient or a princess of China (whose monarchy has long left us) have to do with a couple's break-up? Hmmmm *crickets*... exactly.

So, moving beyond couples, the next point is: 'china' as in 'fragile', 'delicate' etc. This makes more sense. Princesses in narrative/myth have historically been rather fragile souls who need to be rescued by princes/kings all the time. All right, so gender issues are brought right into the middle of things; and that's going to be my first reading.

First reading

Gender roles

Male and female voices in the song obviously portray a split between the two. Previously 'on the same side', the male later overpowers the female, as represented through the sword fight, and renders her powerless save for sexual attributes; Rihanna goes from being a white-garbed (read: sexually pure) warrior to a somewhat red-garbed (read: sexually active) dancer who is left performing for him while he sits on a throne.

Summary: the video/song is about the fragile princess (woman) becoming fragile due to being overpowered by the king (man), thus limiting her to a sensual role in the king's court, instead of them both being able to co-exist as equal partners physically, emotionally and spiritually.

Second reading

My second reading is perhaps in fact reading too much into the video/song, but hey, it got me thinking, all right:) Now, remember when I mentioned 'China' in the title as referring to the Orient, and wondering what on earth a reference to Asia has got to do with a couple breaking up? Well, maybe it's not about a couple as we think of it:

When East Meets West

One thing which made me a bit perplexed in the video was that, yes, the song is titled "Princess of China", but the symbology isn't really about China per se. You get some Japanese ninja action, some Chinese flying-wire kung fu scenes, and what looks either like the many-handed Indian goddess Durga (who of course manifests as among others, Kali) or traditional Thai dancers (in dances such as 'Manohra').

In other words, perhaps 'China' here signifies Eastern tradition.

In this context, the 'princess' of China could represent the nature of that tradition as feminised (the ninja Chris Martin's character defeats is a woman, and of course so are Rihanna's various characters) as opposed to a 'masculine' West (symbolised by Martin's character).

Further, the video seems to portray this feminine Eastern tradition as having been 'subjugated' by a masculine West (see the way Martin's clothes change from Western to Eastern throughout the video, but only once he enters 'China' from 'outside'; he enters without being stopped/questioned by its male guard; he knocks out the defensive component of the place (as represented by the female ninja), and apparently defeats its 'many-handed' feminine spiritual component (represented by Rihanna's character), while gaining the support of the city's men (represented by the drummers) by the end of the clip.

As a result of the above, the spiritually pure (white-garbed) Rihanna and her many-handed (divine/religious) counterpart are reduced to dancing before the new King—minus her many hands and warrior-like power . . .  Not to mention, all the other women in the video pointedly fall down in a group under the King's rule while the male drummers surround them/Rihanna's character, and support the King.

Summary: the video/song is about the meeting of East and West, resulting in the subjugation by the (masculine) West of Eastern tradition and ideals (which are, methinks, overwhelmingly feminine).

The End

Well, this has been fun, but that's it for me. I'm exhausted:) lol anyway, do let me know what you guys think. Do these two readings come through for you too? I really wonder what else one could read into the song/video:) Ciaos, folks:)

A reading of the music video for 'Princess of China' (by Coldplay feat Rihanna)

(Re-post) Book Review: 'Fortune and Fate' by Sharon Shinn

Just a note that this is a re-post of a review that I took down previously; at the time, I was debating the appropriateness of a writer reviewing work written by her peers (especially in similar genres)—I've since decided that I shouldn't stop myself from doing so, especially when it comes to books I adore until today, and which continue to be an inspiration.

And with that out of the way, here's my old review of Sharon Shinn's Fortune and Fate (Twelve Houses). I hope you like it:)

It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of reading a book from Sharon Shinn's Twelve Houses series. And when I recently remembered my still plastic-wrapped copy of Fortune and Fate bundled in an out of the way corner of my room, I felt a familiar thrill of excitement at the thought of venturing into Shinn's fantasy world of Gillengaria once more.

I'd read the first four books of the series some time back and loved all of them. The stories of Gillengaria's mix of defenders, first introduced in Shinn's Mystic and Rider, were continued in The Thirteenth House, Dark Moon Defender, and Reader and Raelynx. Though those first books in Shinn's series are perhaps stronger than her latest, I did find in Fortune and Fate a kind of warm coming home that I didn't even know I'd been missing.

(Warning: Spoilers ahead)

In Fortune and Fate, one finds the story of Wen, a King's Rider (one of the personal guard of Gillengaria's royalty), who is dealing with guilt over surviving an attack in which her King Baryn fell to the enemy. Searching for a way to atone for her failure to protect her King, she leaves the Riders and wanders a Gillengaria newly surfacing from war.

Honour and loyalty are the backdrop to Wen's struggle to find redemption; she couldn't save her King, but she'll damn well save everyone else who needs saving, whether or not she dies in the process. In fact, maybe she wants to die because—to Wen's thinking—no honourable Rider should survive her King's death.

As Wen travels bandit-ridden Fortunalt, her gradual acceptance of her right to experience happiness, love and a new purpose in life is kickstarted once she saves a kidnapped girl (Karryn Fortunalt). It is Karryn who leads Wen to take on a position in the estate of Fortune, which soon becomes a rich backdrop to her search for redemption.

Belonging to the House of Fortunalt (and from which, ironically, stemmed the rebellion which resulted in the death of Gillengaria's King to begin with), Fortune is the home of Fortunalt's heiress (Karryn) and Regent (Karryn's uncle, Jasper Palader). It's Jasper who—impressed by Wen's skill in protecting his niece—persuades a reluctant Wen to form and train the House's personal guard. And thus does her new journey begin.

Along with themes of honour and guilt, Shinn's story explores the importance of family (and finding a home) to help a person heal and find themselves again.  Does Fortune and its inhabitants bring Wen solace, renew her confidence in her worth as a soldier? I have to salute Shinn for keeping the focus on Wen's journey with relative ease, so that we actually want to find out the answer to the question above.

I must say that the beauty of Shinn's writing in this particular story didn't lie in the open conflicts and action-packed sequences that have been strongly present in the previous books. Not that Fortune and Fate doesn't have its share of conflict and action. It does . . . but in a quieter way perhaps; an internal way—a softer way that aptly portrays Wen's internal turmoil with sensitivity and grace. The focus of the story is one of personal redemption, and Shinn wisely allows new characters to reach out to Wen and assist her to move forward while enriching Shinn's already stellar cast of characters.

The character of Fortunalt's Regent, Jasper Paladar, was one that I found well drawn out. His courteous but clever methods to help Wen come to terms with whom she is and what she truly wants out of life made for insightful (and at times humorous) reading. Jasper's attempt to rebuild Fortunalt after the war while caring for his rebellious niece, Karryn, was also given a three dimensional rendering that added depth to the story.

The contrasting views of soldier and philosopher on protecting Fortune and its heiress were perhaps painted rather too stereoptypically for my taste, but provided a rich context from which to understand Wen and Jasper's psychological make-up. The potential to find middle-ground between their very different personalities and positions in society was handled plausibly by Shinn and led smoothly into a relationship that was a pleasure to read.

Karryn Fortunalt was perhaps not drawn out as fully as I'd have liked, but she was an innocent, mutinous counterpoint to Wen's stern and experienced/cynical view of the world—it was often a relief to experience her youthful view of life in comparison to, say, Wen's or Jasper's.

One of the more delightful characters in the book was of course Karryn's love interest, the mischievous and wistfully aimless Ryne, whose careless behaviour might just prove to be Karryn's destruction. The two orphaned siblings Wen saves, and whose names sadly escape me at the moment, are two more characters that I couldn't help thinking could be fleshed out to greater purpose in later stories.

Ultimately, I can't say that Fortune and Fate is the best amongst the Twelve Houses series, but it's definitely a good read. Perhaps my slight feeling of dissatisfaction stems from the fact that I was expecting a story with familiar characters and was disappointed not to find them. But if Shinn's intention was to move her world beyond the familiar medley of players into other stories, other characters, this newer view of Gillengaria and its dangerous politics does, I think, succeed admirably. Certainly, Fortune and Fate is for me a welcome addition to an intriguing fantasy world.

For readers of high fantasy who are looking for something with an emphasis on characterisation and relationships, do give Shinn's Twelve Houses series a try. For the sake of continuity, I'd recommend Mystic and Rider to start with (my personal favourites are Mystic and Rider and Reader and Raelynx), but each of the books do stand on their own.

(Re-post) Book Review: 'Fortune and Fate' by Sharon Shinn

Fairy Tale Review: 'Puss in Boots'

In the spirit of all things cats, partly inspired by Ursula Le Guin's very nice post Chosen by a Cat, I'm going to feature today that seminal classic, Puss in Boots (also known as Master Cat).

Right, I'm an animal lover through and through, and this is probably attributable in part to all the fairy tales I read growing up that portrayed animals as helpers to our poor heroes and heroines. Very few animal helpers made the impression that the cat in Puss in Boots did though; simply because the cat in this tale was everything that was mischievous and trickstery (yes, I made the word up:D) and charming, and somehow symbolised exactly that brand of lazy, mysterious elegance that cats big and small possess.

All right, I'll stop waxing lyrical about felines and get to the story. Puss in Boots tells the tale of three brothers who are left three very different inheritances by their miller father; the eldest son gets the mill, the second his father's donkey, and the third *lucky chap in my mind* - gets a cat!

The cat soon proves the best inheritance a poor miller's son could ever get. Right after he's passed down to our hero, the small feline requests a pair of boots and pouch and - armed with such - proceeds to trap game which he hands over as gifts to a very appreciative King, always stating that the gifts were from his master, the 'Marquis of Carabas'. One day, when the cat hears that the King would be driving by a riverbank with his beautiful daughter, he 'arranges' for his master to be bathing naked nearby, and proceeds to call for help when the King's carriage draws near, asserting that a certain Marquis of Carabas was drowning in the river after being robbed.

Suffice to say, the King stops to help the Marquis, the princess falls in love with him during their carriage ride, and Puss's machinations later on result in his master not only owning a castle (taken from a shape-shifting ogre whom Puss tricks into becoming a mouse and who is subsequently eaten) but also in marrying the princess.

There is a charming, playful tenor to the story. Puss's efforts to ensure his master succeeds in life are remarkably endearing and can't help but make one root for him to succeed. I did squirm a bit at the manner in which he trapped game (other animals) as part of his plan to curry the King's favour, but at the same time, this was perfectly in character for a cat - not to mention inventive; he actually plays dead to catch a rabbit...

In case you're wondering if cats do such things in real life, I can say unreservedly that they do. Such intricate (and hilarious) manouvering is nothing to a cat - heck, I once knew a cat who imitated the chirping of birds to get them near to him... Didn't work though... Poor little feller was so disappointed... *ahem* To return to what I was saying...

Yes, I suppose what impressed me most about this tale was that the characteristics of Puss were honestly portrayed - he is mischievous AND cunning, resourceful AND ruthless, loyal AND manipulative...

But ultimately, Puss is unapologetically himself, and that kind of truth in a tale can do no less than inspire devotion in this reader:) I just had to cheer inside when the cat finally "became a great lord and never again had to run after mice, except when he wanted to amuse himself". Go, Puss!:)

Fairy Tale Review: 'Puss in Boots'

Fairy Tale Review: G is for 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears'

Hmmm, one never knows what can crop up when reviewing a fairy tale. Imagine my surprise when I opened my version of Andrew Lang's Green Fairy Book only to discover a tale called The Story of the Three Bears which made no mention of a little girl named Goldilocks. Not to be deterred, I next visited Maria Tartar's famous collection; she noted that The Story of the Three Bears by Robert Southey (1837) in fact had no little girl in it at all; an unnamed old woman is the intruder in his version. The little girl first makes an appearance only later in the 1850 version by Jospeh Cundall, and Goldilocks was subsequently named as such by Flora Annie Steel in her 1918 collection of English fairy tales.

Luckily for me, the version with Goldilocks in it was included in Maria Tartar's book *huge sigh of relief*, so I'm gonna go ahead and review that one as planned!:)

Ah, this has to be the cutest fairy tale of them all:) The story takes place in a forest, in which is placed a cosy little home belonging to three bears: the Little, Small, Wee Bear; the Middle-sized Bear; and the Great, Huge Bear. These were neat and tidy creatures, polite and well-mannered and generally good-hearted. And they never locked their doors. *ahem: lesson to be learned here, people*:)

Well, what happens to bears who do not lock their doors? They get visited by intruders when they're away from home, of course. And what a rude intruder visits the Three Bears... In strolls Goldilocks, easy as you please, after making sure no one's at home (hmmm, obviously she's practised at this kind of thing). She proceeds to sample the bears' breakfasts and try out their chairs and beds. Being a bit bigger than the Wee Bear - and apparently liking his porridge the best - she eats it all up, proceeds to break his chair after sitting on it, and then takes refuge in his bed (because it fits her the best).

When the Bears return home, they're amazed to see their food and furniture so misused. Goldilocks is soon discovered sleeping in Wee Bear's bed, and once awoken by the little fellow's "shrill" voice, she beats a hasty retreat from the house, never to be seen by the Bears again.

I have to tell you, this was the strangest story to revisit out of everything so far. I mean, it's a short tale, and a pretty straightforward one, but I was really surprised to discover just how much of a - of a delinquent - Goldilocks was!:) The poor Wee Bear, with all his stuff wrecked in such a cavalier manner...:)

A pleasant thought however was that the story really turns stereotypes of people vs animals/monsters on its head. Here, it is the human who is pretty uncivilised, whilst the Bears are polite and courteous and everything one would think bears are not. It was nice to see a story told so cleverly without being preachy; its effortless execution left me thinking about how well we often misjudge the nature of little girls and large bears alike, metaphorically speaking:)

Goldilocks and the Three Bears also left me wondering if I should review next a similar tale - Snow White and the Seven Dwarves - as it features also an intruder waltzing into the beds of strangers with very little consideration; I suppose we'll never know if Goldilocks had as much cause for her behaviour as Snow White did. Or perhaps *gasp* they were one and the same? Hmmmm:)

Well, that's it for now. It's been a long three weeks this April; don't know how I would have made it this far without the generous support of those who've stopped by the blog and commented on my entries; couldn't keep going without the wonderful interaction with you guys, so thank you for all your encouragement! And I hope to have a few more posts up soon before the challenge is over. Ciaos to all:)

Fairy Tale Review: G is for 'Goldilocks and the Three Bears'

Fairy Tale Review: 'Fanta-Ghiro the Beautiful'

The Italian fairy tale Fanta-Ghiro the Beautiful was one of the few fairy tales I came across on the small screen prior to the written page. I was instantly fascinated by the fantasy film Fantaghiro (also known as The Cave of the Golden Rose) when it first aired on local TV, and I caught reruns of the show ever since with that kind of avid fanaticism reserved only for true fans of fairy tales and fantasy:)

The Cave of the Golden Rose is one movie I hope to blog about very soon. The reason I mention it today however is because it did more than spark my imagination on quiet evenings; it also made me seek out the original tale which inspired Lamberto Bava's enchanting adaptation:) Sometime last year, I was delighted to finally hold in my hands a copy of Italo Calvino's Italian Folktales. His version of Fanta-Ghiro the Beautiful (Montale Pistoiese) was one I'd been searching for forever. The story turned out to be pretty short, but was surprisingly effective nonetheless.

Fanta-Ghiro opens with the heroine's father-King receiving a declaration of war from an enemy kingdom. The King has no sons, only three daughters, and he's very old himself, so each of his daughters decide to try lead his army into battle in his place; the twist is, they must relinquish control of the army if they mention "women's work" at any point along the way to battle.

The first two daughters immediately fail this test. Fanta-Ghiro on the other hand, the youngest of the three, disproves all gender conventions very easily by not only passing her father's test but also that of the enemy King's mother. Hmmm, all right, I'm getting a bit ahead of myself there. You see, the  handsome enemy King guesses that Fanta-Ghiro is a woman - perhaps falling in love with her was a powerful clue?:) But he does not know how to prove she's a woman, which means he can't call off the battle and ask her to marry him.

What does our confused and frustrated hero do? He asks his mother for help:) Don't you just love these stories?:)

So, the King's mother promptly helps him by trying to trick Fanta-Ghiro into revealing her gender. But Fanta-Ghiro isn't your typical princess, and by the time the story is through, she has successfully hung on to her position as General of her father's armies, gained a truce between the kingdoms and finally revealed who she is on her own terms before agreeing to marry the besotted enemy King.

Despite the remarkably short length of this tale, let me tell you that I was pleasantly surprised by its tenor. The misogyny apparent in that bit about "women's work" was soon swept aside by the portrayal of Fanta-Ghiro as intelligent, feisty and resourceful; and her actions throughout the tale certainly allowed the reader to see her as an individual rather than merely a gender. The enemy King's obvious quandary provided some delightful moments of amusement, especially the bit where he was left cold and alone and quite naked in a fishpond while his nemesis, beautiful Fanta-Ghiro, made her mischievous escape.

And of course, how could I forget my favourite part of this story: the proposal:) I have to say, this was the first time I'd read a proposal quite like this... From the enemy King to a very pleased Fanta-Ghiro: "General, will you marry me?"

Ha, what's not to like!:) I only wish the story had been longer:)

I do hope you enjoyed this review. I should be back soon with more wonderful features for your reading pleasure. Ciaos and happy reading to all:)

Fairy Tale Review: 'Fanta-Ghiro the Beautiful'

Fairy Tale Review: 'East of the Sun and West of the Moon'

I'm so far behind in the atozchallenge, that I'm this close to giving up! But whether I make it through to the 26 posts or not, I've decided to complete my review of the 26 fairy tales I'd initially chosen, so here I go with alphabet 'E' for the Norwegian classic East of the Sun and West of the Moon.

A variant of the Beauty and the Beast tale, East of the Sun and West of the Moon is rather more intricate in many ways. Here, the youngest beautiful daughter of a peasant family brings them out of poverty by agreeing to wed a white bear (ie a 'Beast'), who takes the form of a human prince at night. The girl stays up one night to see his face by candlelight, but inadvertently spills three drops of tallow on the Prince's shirt. This incident unexpectedly brings into effect a curse by the Prince's stepmother, a troll - the Prince is now compelled to leave the heroine and return to the troll Queen's castle, a castle that lies east of the sun and west of the moon, where he is to marry a troll princess as arranged by said stepmum. The tragedy is that the stepmother's curse would actually have been lifted after a year of marriage to our heroine if only she hadn't been so impatient to take that midnight peek at her beautiful prince.

What follows is rather different from what we get in Beauty and the Beast. In the Norwegian version, the heroine must travel far and wide to seek the troll Queen's castle, getting there only with the help of three old women and the winds from the four corners of the Earth (East, West, South and North winds). Once she gets there, she rescues her Prince from the trolls and they live happily ever after (hmmmm, that comes up a lot, doesn't it?).

The bits about this fairy tale that I really adored included the powerful imagery relating to the girl's sorrow at having to leave her family to marry the white bear, the depiction of the heroine's courage and determination to seek a castle that no road led to, and the way in which Nature's elements conspired to help her find her love again. Also, it was pretty cool to see the heroine rescue the hero for once, instead of the other way around:)

If you're thinking of getting hold of this particular tale, I would recommend getting the copy that's featured in Maria Tartar's Annotated Classic Fairy Tales, simply because it contains lots of juicy commentary about the historical and cultural contexts of a very richly layered story. I hope you enjoyed this post, and happy reading!:)

Fairy Tale Review: 'East of the Sun and West of the Moon'

Fairy Tale Review: D is for 'Donkeyskin' (atozchallenge)

A Charles Perrault fairy tale has never failed to disappoint, and Donkeyskin is no exception. This particular tale, however, is also surprisingly provocative... Well, I shouldn't say 'surprisingly' - most fairy tales were provocative to begin with, and were merely sanitised over time. But anyway, a story that features incestuous desire, where a father's unnatural passion for his own daughter pushes her to disguise herself under a donkeyskin to escape him, is surely one of the more dark tales out there.

In Donkeyskin, the heroine's mother dies with explicit instructions to the father-King that he is not to remarry unless it is to a woman more beautiful, wise and accomplished than the dying Queen herself. Now, I don't see why it had to follow that the King would then set his sights on his own daughter, but hey, fairy tales have never shied away from controversial subjects, have they?

The princess - smart girl - does not take her father's sudden strange fancies lying down... :) I'm sorry, I couldn't resist that:) She's advised by her fairy godmother - apparently there are quite a few of them traipsing about in fairytale-land - to request an expensive trousseau as a gift from her father before she can agree to his request to marry him. Both princess and fairy godmother soon realise however that the wealth brought by an enchanted donkey the King owns will enable him to supply her with any remarkable dress she asks for (and she asks for some beauties, including a dress the colour of the moon and one more splendid than stars).

In desperation, the princess finally requests for the hide of that poor animal, thinking that her father would not be able to part with such a wondrous possession.

The donkeyskin is however delivered to the horrified princess.

The bright side is - it turns out to make wonderful camouflage.

Wearing it - hence the princess's new title 'Donkeyskin' - our heroine quickly escapes the castle, her jewels and lavish trousseau towed along in her trunk. She works at a farm on which there lies an aviary frequented by a prince (come on, you knew a prince would appear sooner of later:D). The Prince, by a bizarre turn of events that truly paints him as the worst sort of Peeping Tom, discovers the beautiful woman lying beneath that horrendous donkeyskin and tricks her into marrying him. Well, the fairy tale actually suggests that Donkeyskin tricks the Prince into tricking her into marrying him, but  I suppose there's no need to keep score here:) They marry, her father "purges himself of all lawless desires", and everyone lives happily ever after...

Except of course for one thing: I can't quite get over the senseless murder of that poor donkey!

Donkeyskin seems to be becoming forgotten despite its beautiful language, no doubt because of its controversial subject matter. It's a shame really, especially when the heroine in this piece is a breath of fresh air, taking her destiny courageously into her own hands for much of the tale. The piece has also been written in a beautifully lyrical style, so much so that I found it to be one of the more well-crafted (stylistically) fairytales that I've devoured so far:)

All right, I would normally write more on any fairy tale I'm featuring, but I've come to realise I'll never get through this challenge if I keep doing that, so I'll revisit this - and the rest of the tales - once the challenge is over:) May this review have persuaded you to pick up the much ignored Donkeyskin for a fascinating read. Till alphabet 'E' then:) Ciao:)

Fairy Tale Review: D is for 'Donkeyskin' (atozchallenge)

Fairy Tale Review: C is for 'Cinderella' (atozchallenge)

A young girl whose mother dies and whose father marries another; a stepmother who mistreats the girl and makes her work as a servant in the family's wealthy household while her two stepsisters are lavished with gifts and other luxuries; and a fairy godmother who steps in to save the day when all seems lost: welcome to Cinderella, otherwise known as The Little Glass Slipper:)

What to say about Charles Perrault's famous tale? It reads as wonderfully as it always did, for one. The language is lovely, descriptive and clever (I'm reading Andrew Lang's version in his Blue Fairy Book btw), and the characterisation of Cinderella's plight is drawn as wretchedly as one could hope:) Who couldn't feel moved by her story? Or cheer when her fairy godmother uses her powers to ensure Cinderella attends the ball, charms her Prince and - despite having to endure that awful nightmare that teenagers everywhere must curse: a curfew of, in her case, midnight - wins the Prince's hand in marriage. Hey, it's not my fault these fairy tales are so obsessed with marriage...:)

It is definitely a romantic tale though, this one:) Sighhh...:) And that scene right at the end - you know, the one where Cinderella slides her foot into the glass slipper left behind at the ball - has surely become iconic.

It's not as easy as I'd thought it would be to review a story I enjoy reading so much. I just love, love, love this tale. The imagery in Cinderella is one of the best things about it. Perrault has written his story in such a way that every magical moment becomes one which aids a reader's imagination to grow: a scooped-out pumpkin becomes a carriage, grey mice become six dappled horses and a rat with a large beard becomes a whiskered, jolly coachman. Lizards are surely liveried coachmen the moment one's back is turned (or once wand is waved), and what befits a jewelled gown more than a certain pair of little glass slippers!

I would have liked to be a bystander in this fictional story, watching Cinderella's godmother work her magic with such (it seemed to me anyway) tasteful elegance. Sure'd beat making imaginary shapes out of fat clouds during free minutes in the day anyway:)

Things that surprised me about Cinderella.... Not the magic obviously. I was surprised to be reminded that Cinderella's real father was alive and well while her stepmother was mistreating her, just strangely ignorant of what was happening right under his very nose (how he could not notice a cinder-covered daughter hanging around by the fireplace every odd moment is what I want to know!). Oh, and I'd forgotten that her illustrious nickname was given to her by her younger, kinder stepsister: she was originally called 'Cinderwench' by the elder.

That the King's son was more enamoured by Cinderella's beauty than anything else was a foregone conclusion, but it did make me feel a little disappointed; I blame my disappointment on Drew Barrymore's wonderful big screen adaptation Ever After, a movie which turns the traditional tale on its head in just the right way, and which I recommend without reservation to anyone who's yet to watch it.

Last but not least, that glass slipper... The benefits of being able to fit into dainty glass slippers were never made more obvious to me than they were today. It was quite lowering. Yes, in case you're wondering, my feet are not exactly 'dainty' lol...:)

Okay, I'm waffling on now, aren't I? This is the result of me staying up well past my usual bedtime:) I guess I'd better turn in now. Writing about Cinderella's been a pleasure and I've no doubt I'll be sleeping very well tonight - pumpkins and glass slippers continue to play about in my mind's eye as I type this:) Can't wait to write the post for alphabet 'D'. Can you guess what fairy tale I intend to feature tomorrow? I'm already excited thinking about it, and I'm sure you'll enjoy the coming post!:)

Cheers, folks, and goodnight:)

Fairy Tale Review: C is for 'Cinderella' (atozchallenge)

Fairy Tale Review: B is for 'Beauty and the Beast' (atozchallenge)

Yikes, I'm already falling behind in the challenge, so this is gonna have to be a quick one! The alphabet B immediately brought to mind (of course) the classic tale, Beauty and the Beast.

It's one of the fairy tales that most of us would recognise at once, a staple of popular culture worldwide - no doubt due in part to the many adaptations on screen. Who can forget Belle or Gaston in the Disney version? But I'm trying to go old-school for these posts, so over I pop to my cherished copy of Maria Tartar's The Annotated Classic Fairy Tales.

Beauty and the Beast was written by Madame de Beaumont in 1756. It tells the story of a girl who must ransom her father from a powerful beast by agreeing to stay with the beast in his castle (well, actually, to die in place of her father, if one is being particular about it). But the Beast is not all that he seems, as Beauty soon discovers. She gradually falls in love with the creature, who - if ugly and a little dull -is nevertheless quite kind-hearted and clearly quite smitten with her.

Beauty's good qualities are of course her compassion, virtue and wisdom, not her beauty, something which Beaumont takes pains to point out throughout the story. But I can't quite ignore the fact that the Beast was ugly and dumb, not blind. Hmmm.

Anyway,when Beauty finally declares her feelings for him, an old curse is broken, one which had imprisoned a handsome Prince within the body of the Beast. They live - did you have any doubt? - happily ever after:)

This particular fairy tale was always a problematic one for me. There is a clear romantic subtext to the entire tale; Beauty and the Beast fall in love despite appearances, and triumph over all challenges because of that love. But is that really what the story is saying? I'm never been sure.

It has occured to me (and Tartar points this out as well) that Beauty does not fall in love with the Beast at all, so much as accept his hand in marriage because she respects him and is grateful for his help. Her gratitude binds her to him, as does her very open preference for kindness in her partner as opposed to physical beauty or intelligence or even falling in love.

Don't believe me? Well, Beauty actually spells it out very clearly: "I may not be in love with him, but I feel respect, friendship and gratitude towards him".

Ha that startled you, didn't it?:) I'll admit it startled me too; what can I say, Disney's version has been more on the brain lately than Beaumont's:) Don't fret though, the ending to the tale does imply Beauty feels something warmer than friendship for the Beast, albeit with ambiguous wording.

There was something else that made me go 'hmmmmm' when re-reading the tale. Beauty's sisters ask their father to get them expensive gifts on his way home from port. Beauty asks him only for a rose. It was of course Beauty's humble but unusual request that causes her father to end up in the Beast's castle. I couldn't help thinking at this point: was Beaumont purposefully contrasting the modern, material world of Beauty's sisters with Beast's magical world by use of that innocent rose? A rose to lead to forgotten, natural truths where furs and jewellery would only take one further away from them? Very possible, I think, especially when the Beast declares that his roses are what he loves most in the world ... while he stands very comfortably on the grounds of his lavish castle:)

The other thing that struck me was how issues of privilege and position are littered throughout the tale. As Tartar points out in her commentary, Beauty and the Beast is unusual in that it is a fairy tale that directly features the rise of the bourgeoisie in pre-revolutionary France. We are allowed a glimpse of the choices faced by families where new money creates merely a new brand of snobbery (her sisters) instead of intellectual power and virtue (Beauty), where fortunes of the newly rich could fall or rise with heady unpredictability (as happens when Beauty's merchant father loses his wealth), and where the children of the rich but not noble are becoming increasingly literate despite their lack of high rank.

Beauty is merely the daughter of a merchant, but she reads books. Good books, according to Beaumont:) Not to forget, her father spares no expense in employing tutors for his six children because he is a man of "intelligence and good sense".

Hmmm, doth there be a preachy quality in this piece, Madame Beaumont?

I must confess, Beauty's virtuous nature became a tad annoying after a while, though her practical qualities did make up for it by providing moments of perhaps unintended humour, such as when she wisely quips to the Beast, "You can't be a beast if you know that you lack intelligence. A fool never believes himself to be stupid."  Ha truer words were never spoken:)

All right, my intended-to-be-quick post is becoming very long. I apologise for that and will stop right here. I have my teeth sunk firmly into this tale, but there is simply no way that I can do justice to it in a single blog post:) But Beauty and the Beast has fascinated millions for decades, and I am not immune to its charms, so I've no doubt I'll be revisiting aspects of this tale with more detail some time in the future.

In the meanwhile, I hope you've enjoyed reading this post. May it have inspired those who haven't read the original tale to give Beauty and the Beast a try:) It's definitely a beautifully written, romantic fairy tale -with a difference:)

Fairy Tale Review: B is for 'Beauty and the Beast' (atozchallenge)

Fairy Tale Review: A is for 'Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp'

Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp was one of the first fairy tales that filled my mind with the power of jewels and genies, magic and beauty, as well as that singular brand of imagining contained in the tales of the Arabian Nights. Under the auspices of the A to Z Blogging Challenge, I had decided to feature a fairy tale for each day of the month, and Aladdin's story seemed the perfect fit for letter A. So, today, I picked up my edition of Andrew Lang's The Blue Fairy Book with great excitement.

Re-reading Aladdin turned out to be a greater pleasure than I'd expected. Hard to believe, I know, but I'd forgotten how the magician Mustapha came to meet young and lazy Aladdin for the first time, how he got the boy to enter bejewelled caves to steal a glowing lamp, and how he left the boy to die there when he refused to hand the lamp to Mustapha at the cave-mouth. Aladdin, of course, did not die. Instead, he uses a ring Mustapha lent him to summon a genie to get him out of the mess he got himself into and later discovers another - more powerful - genie when his mother rubs that wonderful lamp so desired by Mustapha to get it to shine. Through the powers of the genie of the lamp and the genie of the ring, Aladdin acquires wealth and the love of a beautiful princess, defeating evil Mustapha along the way.

What really surprised me on reading the unabridged version of Aladdin in The Blue Fairy Book was how - for lack of a better word - global it was. The tale is of a Persian Aladdin, an African Mustapha, and though the Princess appears Persian as well, she and Aladdin apparently settle down in a palace in China. How had such details escaped me in the past? Possibly, issues of ethnicity/nationality were not at the forefront of my mind. Nor gender apparently; I was struck this time by how little choice the princess had in her choice of groom, though of course she and Aladdin are deemed to be in love by the end of the tale.

But the most interesting underlying theme that I discovered was one which allowed the tale to end with Aladdin succeeding to the Sultan's reign, leaving behind a line of kings of his own when he dies. I was forcibly reminded at this point that fairy tales often provided relief (metaphorically of course) from those stuck in cycles of poverty by allowing magic to equalise power between the poor and the rich. Aladdin's lamp (or it's genie, to be precise) made up quite cleverly for his lack of a royal lineage by substituting it with great wealth, allowing him to buy his way into the position of Sultan.

I don't think the issues I've noted above would have come across to me quite so clearly when I was a child. I think I was (understandably enough) fascinated more with puffs of smoke and magic, huge hideous genies and shining golden lamps than I was with issues of gender or power; well, to be honest, I think those earlier facets of the story still fascinate me rather more than they perhaps should:)

But I suppose that's not entirely unexpected. I reckon there is no facet of Aladdin that is more important than the other, more worthy of being in the tale than any other, more capable of drawing an emotional response from a reader than any other; all bits and pieces of the tale work in perfect harmony to paint us a richly coloured picture, one that I feel would touch a chord even today with modern audiences.

I guess, the power of fairy tales like Aladdin never really die because they are textured so clearly with the truth of what it can mean to be human in our very complicated human societies that they enchant and educate all at the same time, whatever age a person might be, whatever background they hail from. I doubt I will ever not learn something new when re-reading a fairy tale such as Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp.

And that, my friends, really is magic:)

Fairy Tale Review: A is for 'Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp'

Book Review: 'The Secret of Chimneys' by Agatha Christie

Agatha Christie, one of the greatest mystery writers of all time - some would say the greatest - was one author whose works I found too creepy to read when I was a kid. (I have to blame this on my sis; she used to feed me Christie's stories when we were alone in our room at night with the lights turned off etc - and when images of dead bodies and children being murdered while bobbing for apples can be quite traumatising and scar one for life:D)

Anyway, when my interest in Agatha Christie was rekindled some time back, I found myself picking up The Secret of Chimneys  as a starting point, wondering what I would find inside. I expected lots of crime and dark shadows, villains and knives.

I wasn't disappointed.

Christie works these elements as only the best storytellers can. What got me hooked though was the addictive narrative, the humourous, witty turn of the tale following Anthony Cade's footsteps as he assumes the identity of a friend to deliver the memoirs of a foreign Count to London publishers.

That manuscript... It caused such a stir before it was even published that I felt a bit jealous of the Count:)

You see, every political party from the small European nation of Herzoslovakia wants to get their hands on the Count's memoirs, afraid of the secrets that would be revealed by it. As a result, the story becomes a delighfully sinister (yes, I too never thought those two words could ever go together:D) romp through London and then to the English countryside and Chimneys mansion, complete with political intrigue every step of the way.

There are attempted (and successful) assasinations, little gibes at Sherlock Holmes (I could almost see a sardonic smile on Agatha Christie's lips as she put those in) and, of course, intriguing personalities that Christie flushes out so very well.

The characters in the story are very much what makes the book so interesting, so I won't go into too much detail here for fear of spoiling anyone's experience of it:) Let me just say that Anthony Cade was witty and amusing, Virginia entrancing, and Superintendent Battle became an unexpectedly pleasant surprise of a character (no doubt meant to be yet another dig at detectives with the personalities of Sherlock Holmes).

A mention has to go to Chimneys' owner, the ninth Marquis of Caterham. I couldn't help feeling sorry for the beleagured fellow as he reluctantly allows foreign office minister George Lomax to bully him into using Chimneys once again as a base from which to support the cause of British hegemony in Europe.

At the end of it all, The Secret of Chimneys was a really addictive book. I just kept turning to the next page, and laughing out loud when I least expected to. That's the best kind of book there is, don't you think?

I understand now why Agatha Christie's stories are still in print, and voraciously read, after all this time. They're entertaining, witty and atmospheric; who wouldn't want to read something which packs such an enjoyable punch, especially on a dark and stormy kind of day (or night)...

Chimneys has been a cool introduction (re-introduction, really) to Christie's writing. I have to say I'm encouraged to read more of her work now, so it's on to The Secret Adversary for me!

I hope you enjoyed this short review:)

Book Review: 'The Secret of Chimneys' by Agatha Christie

Live long and prosper, to all:)

Kirk and Spock off to uncharted worlds in search of excitement, adventure... alien sleepovers...:)

How can anyone not know what I speak of?

Yes, of course, the wonderful series that is Star Trek:)
(I'd better qualify that this post will only deal with the original Star Trek series)

Publicity photo of Leonard Nimoy and
William Shatner as Mr. Spock and
Captain Kirk.

Well, how on earth can I possibly summarise such an excellent, excellent series in a single post? I guess I'll begin by saying that Star Trek is a science-fiction feast for anyone who's remotely discovery-inclined.

The series is premised on fascinating journeys by the crew of the Starship Enterprise into previously unexplored galaxies, searching for anything and everything that exists out there.

And if the plot isn't enough to make one salivate (remember, it was the first of its kind; Star Wars came just a bit later), the characters are brilliant.


Publicity photo of
William Shatner as
Captain Kirk.



First off, there's the Captain of the Starship Enterprise, Captain James Tiberius Kirk.

The original Kirk, played by William Shatner, was brash, impetuous, entirely woman-ogling, and always humorous; oh, and he could kick some mean alien and human butt when he had to.

Kirk's charm lies I think in how human he is, not too smart, not too dumb, and above all, a fine counterpoint to his second in command, Spock.

Leonard Nimoy speaking at his
panel at Emerald City Comicon
March 13, 2010, taken by Kelly Walker
(from Wikimedia Commons)

Ah, what can one say about Spock? The First Officer of the Enterprise, he's by far my favourite character in the whole series, played beyond excellence by Leonard Nimoy.

With pointy ears and a logical disposition, Spock is a mixed Vulcan-human who looks remarkably like an elf (the Lord of the Rings kind) lost in space; an elf with a phaser instead of a bow and arrow, and an uncomfortable suit instead of uncomfortable LOTR elf clothes:D.

Spock's attraction lies in his unthinking elegance, his faithfulness to logic, and his constant struggle to live up to his logical Vulcan ideals despite his capacity for human emotion, something brought out most of the time by Kirk's obvious influence on him. Being half human and half Vulcan left Spock some scars, carefully and logically supressed. But it's Spock's traumatic past and unusual roots that ultimately help him to mix logic and emotion together whenever it's necessary (read: whenever it suits him and saves Kirk/the Enterprise).

There is an endearing sweetness to Spock, a sweetness that somehow contradicts not at all with his enigmatic expressions, incredible strength, the Vulcan mind meld and, of course, the split finger salute that I am now programmed for life with ('Live long and prosper' is equal to 'May the Force be With You' in my mind).

Hmmmm, this post is getting too focused on my favourite character, isn't it? Okay then, on to the others ...

Walter Koenig played the Russian officer Pavel Chekov, no doubt a chracter introduced (during the Cold War) to signify a united world on Earth, where the US and Russia now work side by side to explore the world outside this planet.

Hmmm, speaking of unity, I've always found it particularly cool that Star Trek helped to shatter both racial and gender boundaries for American TV. Uhura, played by Nichelle Nichols, was one of the first black characters on American TV, and one of the first black women on American TV. And of course, she and Kirk shared TV's first interracial kiss.

Right, I can only make a mention now of the ship's Dr McCoy/Bones (played by DeForest Kelley). He was Spock's main nemesis on the ship, and his presence made Star Trek reruns so worth watching.... simply to witness the many humorous, sarcasm-filled conversations between these two characters.

Moving on... George Takei played Hikaru Sulu, a representation of Asia and Asians in the crew. Reading up on Sulu's character, I discovered an explanation of how his surname was arrived at by Star Trek's creator, Gene Roddenberry - seems Roddenberry wanted to represent the whole of Asia in Sulu's character, and (looking at a map) noticed that the waters of the Sulu Sea touched all shores of Asia. Am unsure whether this geographical tidbit is true technically, but it's still an inspiring way to find a name methinks.

Lastly, who can forget Scotty (full name Montgomery Scott, played by James Doohan), the ship's aptly/strangely named engineer (apt/strange because he actually was Scottish, with a Scottish accent to boot hmmmm).

There's nothing much to add, I think. Star Trek was one of the most visually, intellectually and emotionally satisfying rides on TV, if one could suspend disbelief at the thought of pointy-eared aliens and warp speed, something I managed to do with no effort at all. The show was simply brilliant in so many little ways that many people would be unaware of perhaps until they start thinking of the world as a kind of universe to be explored with our very own danger-courting starships

Man, I loved - still adore - Star Trek so, so much, despite having apparently 'grown up' as they say. Can't thank Gene Roddenberry enough for creating a series which feeds the mind and heart so generously.

I'm just glad that most of the follow-up series' and movies - though unable to top the original series, in my mind - have for the most part given a realistic, believable take on an imaginative world beloved by so many, and done justice to the spirit that Star Trek embodied: the enthusiasm and courage to go where no man has gone before.

Live long and prosper, all:)

Live long and prosper, to all:)

Book Review: 'Lolita' by Vladimir Nabokov

When I finally picked up Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, it was for two reasons.

I'd been curious about the controversy surrounding the story for the longest time, one which centred on the book's plot:  a middle-aged man's attraction to a sexually precocious 12 year old girl.

My second reason was a passage from Lolita that I'd come across in a book on writing tools; a passage that was written so beautifully, so economically, so evocatively, so damn well in fact, that it piqued my interest and made me wish to discover more of the voice Nabokov had created in this infamous story.

I guess this is where I quote the passage that caught my eye in the first place. I wonder if it will grab you and never let go the way it did me.

"Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta.

She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita."

These lines set the stage for protagonist Humbert Humbert's unhealthy obsession with 12 year old Dolores Haze, to whom he affectionately *shuddering with distaste here* awards the pet name 'Lolita'.

Soon, we are introduced quite intimately to the desperate, near-monochromatic world of seduction, corruption and self-indulgence that makes up Humbert Humbert's entire world view. And we are made to watch with a kind of horrified fascination as his sometimes hilarious methods to obtain the object of his infatuation come closer and closer to success.

Humbert Humbert's ruthless manouvering into Lolita's life (to the point of becoming her stepfather) and the subsequent swift unravelling of her world - and his - occurs with a deft, graceful hand.

But what surprised me most about Lolita was the sheer honesty in Nabokov's writing.

Nabokov isn't pulling any punches here. There is no pretence. This story is blatantly about the sexual attraction felt by a man for a child.

Yet, Nabokov handles his tale with the touch of a master. There is no explicit erotica, not in the modern sense of the word anyway; matters which occur under the sheets are hinted at more than painted in excruciating detail.

It's the emotional pain of the participatants in this tragic travesty of familial life that is so well drawn out. The  pain of innocence betrayed is breaking at the seams throughout the book. This, if anything, is what can make Lolita such a difficult book to read; it's impossible to remain removed from the plight of Nabokov's remarkable characters.

Young, vulnerable and precocious Lolita is gradually stripped of her freedom and innocence through choices quite beyond her control. And - in the saddest way - though it is impossible to sympathise with Humbert Humbert, there is definitely a sickening sense of fury and horror at being faced with the existence of this damned, selfish and utterly weak-minded personality who is so enslaved to his desires that he doesn't hesitate to wreck the lives of those too powerless to defend themselves from him.

Vivid and elegant prose aside, Nabokov's grasp on the dynamics of the human personality, his sensitivity to nuances of abuse, manipulation and deception that are often ignored, misunderstood or - sadly - left unvoiced by victims and onlookers alike, and his courage to tackle a subject that was taboo for reasons that are truly beyond me (shouldn't the protection of the defenseless be a priority over issues of potentially erotic subject matter?) has been eye-opening to me.

As a writer, and as an individual, I feel a renewed responsibility to speak for those who don't have a voice to fight for their freedom from abusive situations/relationships.

Lolita's storyline is one of perversity, yes, but it is a perversity which not only reveals the unreliability of the source of the story, Humbert Humbert, but also society's wilful turning of a blind eye to matters that disturb its clean and shiny persona.

Issues concerning the lack of care/protection of children is woven into the entire story in tiny, veiled glimpses, both in terms of Lolita's youthful confusion and heart-breaking need for a truly loving family, and in Humbert Humbert's clearly predatory attempts to make her his own.

At the end of the book, we are left to wonder: where was the rest of the world as this single individual systematically betrayed a child's trust in the most dissolute way under our very eyes?

Suffice to say, Lolita has surpassed both my curiosity and my expectations. Disturbing, thought-provoking, so well-written I couldn't put it down... Lolita is one of very few books that has succeeded in turning the story of a monster and victim into a subtle, personal lens on the way our world works to hide uncomfortable truths.

A subject that is so very distasteful is infused with authenticity, truth and a subtle undercurrent of blame towards those who take the innocence and care of children for granted despite the existence of predatory, diseased minds among us.

I've come to the conclusion now that Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita is one of the best books I've ever read. Chilling, and written with power and perception, this is Lolita. If the subject is within your comfort zone - or maybe even if it isn't - do give Lolita a read. I'm certain it will be a book you'll never forget.

Book Review: 'Lolita' by Vladimir Nabokov

My Latest Guilty Pleasure - ITV's 'Lost in Austen'

Ah, she's done it again... Somehow, Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice has found its way into yet another adaptation (on ITV this time). As heretical as this fantastic version of the story is, I'm absolutely loving it!

The show's protagonist, Amanda Price, is a gal living in our totally unromantic modern world. Often curled up on the couch in her small flat, with a deadbeat boyfriend, and a rather familiar obsession with Darcy and the Bennets *ahem*, most of us would find her pretty relatable.

That is, until she finds herself switching places with Elizabeth Bennet via an 'Alice in the Wonderland'-like doorway in her flat.

Courtesy of this remarkable event, Amanda has to adapt to an unexpectedly un-romantic life as a single woman living in the story's 19th century setting. The only problem is, she also seems to be in danger of throwing the original Austen storyline into complete disarray by her very enthusiastic (and hilariously confused) presence.

We're treated to some beautiful decor in the show. But what I'm loving most at the moment is the lovely tongue-in-cheek dialogue that seamlessly switches between the language of the 19th century and Amanda's very 21st century thinking.

Could anyone not adore the moment when Amanda persuades Darcy to re-enact Colin Firth's dip in the lake, remarking that she's just experiencing a "bit of a strange post-modern moment here" as he walks out looking so... sighhhh.... what can one say about that?:)

And her method of rebuffing Mr.Bingley's advances (yes, horror of horrors, he seems to be falling for her instead of Jane) was absolutely hilarious in context!

I suppose that's what makes this production work: it's really very clever in its comedy. Austen's beloved characters have been re-thought with enough tact, rapier wit and intelligent humour that we still recognise our favourite old friends.

The arrogantly authorative Darcy, quiet Jane, the odd couple that is Mr and Mrs Bennet, the Bingleys - and of course the sanctimonious Mr.Collins - still make their appearances, much to my delight. The only character that's really been missing in all her glory is Elizabeth Bennet.

Yes, I thought so too- how can one have any kind of Pride and Prejudice experience without Elizabeth? And yet, it works.

I feel horrified at the effects of Amanda's unwitting machinations on the plot (akin to a hapless train wreck that's somehow so damn funny you want the train to wreck) but I cannot help but stay glued to my seat to see how it all works out.

A lot of the show's success lies in Jemima Rooper's rendition of Amanda. Rooper brings the unlikely storyline alive with her portrayal of Amanda's bewildered, well-meant interference on behalf of Elizabeth (who has left her stranded in fiction apparently).

Amanda's dislike of Wickham is so militant in its ferocity that you can't help but think the story in the book must have been real to have inspired such passion in her. Her awed confusion when faced with the arrogantly annoying (and yet so utterly attractive) Darcy just sweeps one away into Austen's world, no matter the discrepancies with the original story.

Lost in Austen indeed... I only wish there were more than 4 episodes to this show. I'm dreading the upcoming fourth episode, simply because I know it'll be the end of a deliciously entertaining ride.

Hmmmm, I wonder how it will end? I can't help rooting for Amanda over Elizabeth now. I guess all I can say is, the ITV team have certainly converted this ardent Austen fan into a fan of their alternative Austen world:)

My Latest Guilty Pleasure - ITV's 'Lost in Austen'

Boldly Addressing the War of the Sexes - A Review of 'The Bloody Chamber' by Angela Carter

During the course of my studies, I've had the good fortune to write a paper on an interesting short story/novella, entitled The Bloody Chamber. Written by Angela Carter, a prolific reteller of faerie tales, The Bloody Chamber is a reimagining of the famous Bluebeard story (by Charles Perrault).

Unlike Bluebeard however, The Bloody Chamber's rich prose bravely interrogates complex patriarchal ideologies underlying so much of humanity's gender relations.

By use of symbolism and imagery, Carter successfully exposes flaws in societal systems governing the relationship between the sexes. Such systems are often taken for granted in the approach sexes have towards each other, a situation which - sadly -creates a high potential for abusive behaviour.

(Warning: Spoilers ahead)

19th century 'Bluebeard' illustration
by Gustave Dore

The Bloody Chamber follows the path of an un-named heroine who willingly marries a sadomachistic Marquis for his wealth and status. In return, she is to bear him an heir.

Following their marriage, the Marquis corrupts the heroine's ideals and sexuality. He dominates her view of her nature and role in the world. When the Marquis leaves the heroine to go on a business trip, he provides her with keys to all the chambers in his castle, but forbids her to enter one of them (as depicted in Gustave Dore's 19th century illustration). The heroine of course disobeys the Marquis's prohibition, only to discover inside the bloody chamber the bodies of the many wives the Marquis had previously murdered. He returns, intending to kill her for her disobedience, but she is ultimately saved while he is killed; she inherits his castle and wealth.

There are a lot of layers to Carter's story. What stood out to me was that the heroine's discovery of the bloody chamber ultimately turns her aware of abusive patriarchal roots in humanity's social systems.

The high maternal mortality rates symbolised by the bloody chamber made the original Bluebeard tale tilt towards feminism if read as a warning against the death that marriage commongly brought to the women of Perrault's time (the 17th century). What I found interesting in The Bloody Chamber however is that Carter has gone a step further in depicting just how victimised the male psyche is by abusive patriarchal systems as well.

In this context, the Marquis's evil became understandable to me (his ancestry was one of such violence and misogyny, it would have been remarkable if he didn't turn out the way he did). Carter contrasts the Marquis's worldview with the opposing gentle male psyche of the blind piano tuner, Jean-Yves who - though he supports the heroine - cannot truly assist her in any meaningful way as the Marquis is more powerful than he is.

The ultimate hero of the piece is the heroine's mother, who rides to her daughter's rescue and dispatches the Marquis with a single bullet. To me, this was a powerfully variant feminist ending to the tale - when have mothers ever ridden to the rescue of their children in any faerie tale, despite many doing so in real life?

Indeed, when have mothers ever been portrayed in traditional storytelling as powerful and strong figures who successfully combat evil?

I couldn't help reading Carter's ending also as a reinterpretation of traditional (and arguably patriarchal) views of the Biblical 'original sin' event. Instead of being a one-dimensional and painful punishment, woman's ability to give birth becomes also a gift to true wisdom from love (by creating the parent-child bond) instead of fake/meaningless wisdom from the cold-blooded motivations of the intellect (or mind-centred curiosity, which ultimately led Eve to eat the fruit from the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden of Eden).

There may be flaws to this view of the world - that considerations of the heart should supersede those of the intellect. I've always thought that a holistic person is one who embraces both mind and heart. But perhaps the point is that compassion and kindness distinguish the thinking human from the merely intellectual.

From this compassion-friendly vantage, there is an attractive humanism in Carter's approach. She doesn't balk at considering the abuses suffered by both genders under patriarchal societal structures; she neglects neither masculine nor feminine genders in her exploration of society's abusive gender role-playing.

For this reason, The Bloody Chamber (and Carter's other faerie tale retellings in her short story collection The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories) have truly been a stimulus for my seeing the way genders are constructed by illusory systems that cause us to abuse each other for the benefit of man-made motivations: the bartering for power.

I only wish that I had had the pleasure of reading stories like these in my younger years, so that my eyes could have been opened all the sooner to the manipulative power structures that have been so coldly entrenched in our world for so many generations. It is stories like Carter's which shed light on why men and women behave the way they do. More importantly, such stories remind us that structures which violently influence gender relations can be re-thought and changed, if only by one's individual courage and compassion to challenge the abusive status quo.

Prominent blogger Nathan Bransford wrote recently on how we make sense of the world around us through our interpretation of narratives/stories. Like him, I believe stories are powerful mediums through which we can reimagine our world in clearer (and perhaps more truthful) colours. Books like The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories only strengthen my belief in the power of storytelling to expose narratives that are built on abusive - and false - premises.

I am hopeful that the more writers write about such issues, the more arbitrary man-made systems may one day be transcended to achieve fairness and equality between all human beings.

In the meanwhile, if gender studies/narrative studies is something you're interested in, Carter's excellent collection of stories might be something you'd like to have a look at. In any event, I'm certain you won't be disappointed by her richly crafted stories:)

Boldly Addressing the War of the Sexes - A Review of 'The Bloody Chamber' by Angela Carter

'This Rough Magic' by Mary Stewart - A Book Review

This week has been a long one, full of unexpected happenings and the tiring travails of moving house. Fortunately for me, one of those unexpected happenings was the discovery of a new, brilliant author! Mary Stewart, the author of suspenseful romances, was a gamble when I bought her book, 'This Rough Magic'. How surprised I was when I finally began to read it and was swept away to Greece and the island which might well have been Prospero's in Shakespeare's 'The Tempest'.

'This Rough Magic' (in itself a quote from The Tempest) begins with Lucy Waring's arrival in the Greek island of Corfu, a place rich in myth and tradition. Lucy joins her sister, Phyllida Forli at one of the three houses the Forlis own. The other two houses have been tenanted out, one to a photographer named Godfrey Manning, and the other to thespian Julian Gale. Lucy herself is a down and out actress who is in awe of Julian Gale but almost immediately on arrival at Corfu, she locks horns with his brusque son, Max, a musician.

While Lucy and Max's relationship is rocky at best, their interaction provides a stimulating background to the odd happenings at the island, with drownings and dead bodies ultimately leading Lucy to stumble on a conspiracy that might well cast Max as the villain of the piece.

Needless to say, 'This Rough Magic' is a testament to Stewart's mastery at melding together the two genres of suspense and romance. The mystery in the story did not take second place to the wonderfully subtle courtship between hero and heroine - neither did Stewart neglect to paint a remarkably effective portrait of the island with its patron saint, St. Spiridion.

It was all those little touches of the romantic (not romance, but just a subtle appreciation of aesthetics and beauty) - together with a keen appreciation of the cruel, the eccentric, and the sometimes just unexplainable quirks in human personalities - that brought the whole novel together so very well.

As I was reading the book, I couldn't help drawing comparisons between Mary Stewart's work and that of the more well known mystery writer, Agatha Christie.

The exacting, keen sense of deductive reasoning that that wonderful creation of hers, Hercule Poirot, embodied has always been a delightful feast for my mind, albeit more when following the old TV series than reading the books (my sis was more a Poirot reader than me unfortunately). Having just got off a Christie binge of sorts though (purely books this time:)), Poirot's stoic adherence to Reason was becoming a tad monotonous - which might be why I was a grateful recipient of Stewart's rich detail and lush imagery in 'This Rough Magic'.

Stewart definitely emphasises description over dialogue in her writing, quite in contrast to Agatha Christie, but her descriptive tone is often delicate and nuanced and atmospheric, inviting her audience to fully appreciate the surroundings she depicts without resorting to painting the island with an artificially exotic veneer (though there were some elements of this).

A different animal too is Hercule Poirot's genius intelligence when compared to the stumbling amateur efforts of Lucy Waring. Though Poirot's intelligence and skills of observation made him uniquely suited for solving those mysteries which made Christie famous, it was more relatable somehow to think in terms of the amateur Lucy, to have to follow a girl who was neither qualified nor inherently suited for solving mysteries, as she in fact solved the mystery in 'This Rough Magic' and unmasked the villain.

It was the lack of neatness in Lucy's detective work perhaps that was oddly endearing, and which made the story all the more suspenseful.

I followed Lucy's footsteps through the story as she tries to get to the truth of the mysterious and deadly occurences on the beautiful island of Corfu, and couldn't help feeling an enjoyable sense of partaking in the uncertain life of an individual walking strange paths in a foreign country - only to form within a sense of understanding and appreciation of such otherness.

Well, now that I'm done with 'This Rough Magic', all I can think of is the next Mary Stewart, and I have just the one in mind: my recently purchased 'Nine Coaches Waiting' is, er, waiting on my bedside table, ready to lure me into Stewart's imaginative vision and beautiful wordplay. What a gorgeous bedtime read to look forward to!

'This Rough Magic' by Mary Stewart - A Book Review