The Bloody Chamber - An Intervention

This piece was my last assignment of my second year; I still can't believe it's gone by that fast. This was part of the Textual Intervention II module, you may have seen the essay I had to do for this module - The Worst Essay Ever. The creative side of this module is so much easier, and a lot more fun. Last term it was all about the Gothic, this term it was about fairy tales and their morals and messages. Well, something like that. I found last term more understandable, leading me to receive a First. I swear I will stop going on about that one day. Or maybe not.

While I am happy with this piece, I am not certain it will receive a First like I was last term. We didn't have much time to workshop, but my friend The Student Housewife helped me a lot. She's an editing genius.

Looks lovely...

So this story was inspired by Angela Carter's The Bloody Chamber, which I've mentioned only a few times before...I'm not exactly enthralled by the story but it is better than the original Bluebeard. I guess after studying it for A-level English and Art I do feel somewhat attached to it. The guidelines for this creative piece was to retell a fairy tale, or explore the themes, or add a message. Something. It's pretty bad that I don't know this by now. But I stuck with something simple and did a retelling. This may sound boring to you, but it's a creepy, jazzed up version. I spoke of it before in a post called Mark De Sade Idea. It's a play on words of the S&M 'inventor', Marquis de Sade. He wrote a book on the reading list called The Misfortunes of Virtue and Other Early Tales. It's supposed to be all sexual and grim, but the parts I read were really boring. This story has the basic plot of The Bloody Chamber/Bluebeard, with the theme of curiosity, with some of de Sade's sexual fantasies thrown in for good measure.

I'll stop yabbering on and let you read it now.

Mark Desade’s Misfortune of Curiosity

EDIT - 31 March 2012: I am removing this post temporarily as it is entered in Short Fiction's Competition. It will be back in July.

EDIT: My lecturer's comment at the end was 'OMG! She took pictures of him? I didn't see that coming!' I got my lecturer to say OMG! That must be a sign of a great twist ending. 

The Worst Essay Ever - Grade.

Last Friday I recieved my grade for the Worst Essay Ever. Outside the faculty office everyone was upset or mad; their grades weren't very good (but they had also received so Script Writing grades, too) so I was nervous to get my grade.The lady took ages finding my work, I was scared they had lost it again - it happened to me last year. But then, when she handed it to me I saw at the bottom of the page 67% hurray!

The marker was impressed by my bibliography, which she should be, it was a lot of books. And the only bad comment was that I needed to be more judicious with my use of quotes. Admittedly, I put in lots of quotes to make me seems smarter, also because sometimes I just don't know what to say!

Either way I am a very happy bunny. Let's hope that my creative piece is equally good, or better! 

Mark De Sade Idea

I haven't posted in ages, and believe me I feel awful about it. But I'm just finding it so hard to write at the moment. Well, anyway, here is a piece of writing that I have struggled through. I'm not feeling too pleased about it but I would like you to read it despite that. Maybe you can give me a few tips as to where I should take it next. Just a hint, it's based on Bluebeard and The Bloody Chamber. 


Mark De Sade

I sat on Mark’s bed awkwardly. I had never been in a boy’s room before. It had blue wallpaper with clothes all over the floor, school books thrown on the desk, and a poster of a girl just wearing a lacy thong. I now regretted wearing the plain white knickers that I had had for years.

I waited for a couple of minutes before checking my watch; Mark was taking forever considering he was only getting drinks. I got off the bed and wandered around the room. I peeked in his wardrobe and nosed at some of his school books. He was not doing too well at Trigonometry - all D’s. I scanned the rest of his books on a small shelf, not that there were many. I picked a footballer’s autobiography off the shelf and another book came out with it. It landed with a thud.

I picked up the book; it looked like a scrap book, although I didn’t imagine Mark was very creative. I turned the book in my hands and one of those old Polaroid types of photographs fell to the floor. A photo of Amber. I scowled; this was probably a scrap book she made for Mark on Valentine’s Day or something. Irritated, I opened the book.

The page was covered in photos of a busty blond with a dazzling smile on her face. Mark’s ex-girlfriend, Vicky. Her name was written in pen at the top of the page along with the date 27^th August. I remembered her distantly. Mark had gone out with her for ages a few years back; they were the ‘It Couple’. But I guess they weren’t that great together as he dumped her and she changed schools instantly. I ran my hands through my shoulder length brown hair, would Mark like it better if I was blond? Absently, I turned to the next page. There were more photos of Vicky. But in these photos she was dead. Her body was naked, mutilated, and covered in blood.

I dropped the book in shock and stifled a scream. I closed my eyes but I could still see Vicky’s disfigured corpse in front of me. I counted to ten before looking back at the book.

It had fallen open to another page. These photos were of a girl I had never seen before. Joanna was written at the top along with 20^th May. She was wearing a tight bikini and had sun bleached hair with beautifully tanned skin.

I didn’t want to know what was next but I couldn’t stop myself. My hand shaking, I knelt down and cautiously flicked the page over. Joanna’s skin was now a deathly grey and her hair was matted with blood from all the cuts on her face. I leapt away from the book as if Joanna’s massacred corpse was decaying in Mark’s bedroom. I lay on the floor, breathing quickly, my hands covering my face. After a moment I sat up.

My heart racing, I looked back at the book, trying not to see the photos. With a quick glance at the bedroom door I turned the page once more.

Amber 14^th March.

Amber’s beautiful face stared up at me from the photos; her auburn hair curling around her freckled face and her mouth frozen in the perfect smile.

My heart stopped. The 14^th of March was only last week. The day before Mark asked me out. Thinking about it, I hadn’t seen Amber in a while. That’s when it hit me. These dates were the day they died. The day Mark killed them.

I dreaded to see what was on the next page but I couldn’t control myself. I reached for the book when I heard a creak on the stair. He was coming back. I snatched the book off the floor, shoved it back on the shelf along with the footballer’s autobiography, and leapt onto the bed. Mark opened the door just as my head hit the pillow.

‘Hey, we only had water, hope that’s okay,’ he said as he entered the room. He stopped as he noticed me lying on his bed breathing quickly. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just thirsty.’ I sat up and took a glass of water from him. As I drank I saw him looking at something on the floor.

The photo of Amber that had fallen from the book.

My glass slipped from my fingers with a crash.

‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry.’ I sprang from the bed and headed for the door. ‘I’ll just get some tissues.’

‘It’s fine, it’s just water,’ Mark said as he grabbed my wrist. I stopped suddenly, unsure about what was going to happen. He led me back to the bed and sat me down. He then stood in front of me.

‘You’re really pretty, did you know that?’ he asked. I shook my head dumbly. He gave me one of his lopsided smiles, more predatory than it was charming. ‘You really are. Would you mind if I took some photographs of you?’

My heart stopped as Mark reached under his bed and pulled out an old Polaroid camera. I tried to get off the bed but he shoved me back down.

‘I think on the bed will do.’

Before I could move again he snapped a picture of me. After it was printed he looked at the photo.

‘Try not to look so terrified this time,’ he said as he took another photo.

I lay on the bed, my whole body tense. I smiled tersely as Mark aimed his camera at me. I looked about the room. He was stood too close to the door; if I was to run he would definitely catch me. I could try the window. We were on the first floor, but I would rather risk broken legs rather than death. But how did I even know if the window was unlocked. 

The Worst Essay Ever Completed.

Yesterday I finally handed in the Dreaded Essay. It took me ages to understand the question and then ages to answer it, too! I wasn't the only one to find it difficult, so that makes it slightly better. However, in the end I was a little bit proud of all my hard work, I read through so many books from the library, and I most of what was said went right over my head. I can't imagine all my work will account to much though, but as long as it's over a 2:2 that's fine. Oh no, I'm worried I've jinxed it now!

Anyway, I was so proud of it I though I would post it here, you know, creative work and academic work; I'm so versatile! It's over 1500 words and has a lot of footnotes, which don't look so bad spread over six pages, but the list looks endless here.

If you see any mistakes please don't point them out, I've already handed this essay in and I can't do anything about it now!

I used to recommend reading The Bloody Chamber but now I warn you to stay away from it! It will eat your soul!

 ‘All works of art either uphold the status quo, or challenge it.’ 

This essay will focus on Angela Carter’s story The Bloody Chamber. It will examine whether the text challenges or upholds the status quo through comparison of traditional fairy tales, the exploration of the feminist movement, heterosexual relationships, and the importance of the mother figure.

In 1979, when The Bloody Chamber was published, the women’s movement, referred to as ‘second-wave feminism’[1], was already in motion. These feminists arrived in a society where gender relations had been changed dramatically after the war when women had joined the workforce. During the 1960s and 1970s ‘detraditionalization processes occurred which transformed the institutions of marriage, the family, and gender’[2] which is apparent in Carter’s writing. Carter twists the traditional fairy tales and gives the female characters new, stronger, more sexual roles. Carter had been re-reading fairy tales and Sade’s The Misfortunes of Virtue together and ‘bleakly contemplating the fate of good, powerless girls, the Red Riding Hoods and Sleeping Beauties of the world.’[3] The protagonist in The Bloody Chamber is more heroic and active than in Charles Perrault’s Bluebeard. The bride in Bluebeard waits for her brothers to come to her rescue, reinforcing Zipes’s theory of ‘The male acts, the female wait’[4]. Although Carter’s protagonist is also saved by another, her mother, she does try to save herself by using sex as a weapon: ‘I forced myself to be seductive…and I saw how he almost failed to resist me. If he had come to me in bed, I would have strangled him, then.’[5] While her plan did not work, it is this activeness, rather than passivity, that saves the protagonist from a gruesome end. The protagonist through this experience is no longer naive about situations, ‘though she may be naive about her courage and ability to kill her husband.’[6] This is different from Perrault’s Bluebeard in which ‘Earth-shaking events have taken place in the story and nobody is better for them.’[7] Whereas Carter’s protagonist realises it is not all about money and security but about finding someone that loves you no matter what, like the blind Jean-Yves, who sees her ‘clearly with his heart’[8] and is preferable to the Marquis.

Fairy tales, and their underlying morals, were used to construct the roles children were to grow into. Perrault’s Bluebeard was written in the 1600’s in a time when writers ‘created their fairy tales for the most part to express their views about young people and to prepare them for the roles that they idealistically believed they should play in society.’[9] The Bloody Chamber was written in the 1970’s, a similar time to many radical feminist texts, and ‘the work of the women’s movement from the early nineteenth century onwards has done much to set new agendas for the liberation of both women and the relations between the genders more widely.’[10] Carter’s daring writings about ‘women’s waywardness, and especially at their attraction to the Beast in the very midst of repulsion’[11] made her unpopular in some areas of the feminist movement. The Bloody Chamber allows readers to explore the other agendas the classic fairy tale offers through intervention. By challenging the preconceptions of the fairy tale Carter’s work ‘excites contradictory and powerful feelings…while openly challenging conventional misogyny they also refuse the wholesome or pretty picture of female gender and deal plainly with erotic dominance as a source of pleasure for men – and for women.’[12] The heroine and Marquis engage in sexual relations, and the first time is all about the male taking the girl’s innocence, while later the protagonist uses sex for her own gain, showing she is not so inexperienced due to seeing the chamber.

Zipes says that ‘Perrault argues for the total submission of the woman to her husband. Feminine coquetry disturbs and upsets him: it could be the sign of female independence’[13] hence many of his tales have passive female characters like Patient Griselda and Beauty. In Bluebeard ‘the heroine is beautiful and well-bred but too curious…The moral explains that it is sin for a woman to be curious and imaginative and that women must exercise self-control.’[14] In contrast, men’s disobedience or curiosity is often seen as a virtue: ‘In contesting civil injustice or in resisting tyranny, the rebel’s disobedient methods are called revolutionary and courageous; but woman’s disobedience, forever coloured by traditional interpretations of the first biblical instance of it, is seldom admired.’[15] However, Carter challenges this by having her protagonist saved by her curiosity. Bluebeard wanted his wife to see the chamber and tempted her with the knowledge that she should not go there: ‘but he had given me the box, himself, knowing I must learn the secret. I had played a game…and I had lost.’[16] Nevertheless, if she listened to her husband she would not have known about this chamber full of his dead wives and would have ended up there herself.  Consequently, because she disobeyed her husband she found out about the chamber and was able to avoid being taken there. Through finding the chamber she is also able to ‘understand and survive the deadly peril that kind of marriage holds for her’[17] and realise he is not the man she thought he was.

Many of the books the heroine finds in the Marquis’s library all hint towards the motifs of the story: ‘The Initiation, The Key of Mysteries, The Secret of Pandora’s Box’[18] yet she ignores them. She finds the pornography ironically captioned ‘Reproof of curiosity’[19] not knowing the fate her husband has planned for her is worse. So, while old fairy tales preach that curiosity and disobedience are bad, and one should not stray from the path like in Little Red Riding Hood, this curiosity can lead to knowledge, which in turn leads to power.

The Bloody Chamber may challenge a female’s passivity in gender roles but also encourages a traditional heterosexual relationship. In both versions, Bluebeard successfully woos his bride with extravagant gifts and parties, ‘Bluebeard threw a house-lavish party at one of his country mansions’[20] showing that he has much wealth and can offer security. Carter takes this relationship one step further by having Bluebeard and his wife involved in sexual interactions, a common feature in conventional heterosexual relationships as ‘sexual consummation of the marriage became consequently of crucial importance in the Christian world’. However, the heroine’s attitude towards wealth, sexuality and marriage change after viewing the chamber, ‘Carter exposes her reading audience to a radical view on the fairy-tale marriage’[21] it is not about getting married and living happily-ever-after anymore, for in the privacy of his home the Marquis is brutal, power wielding Sadist.

It is not unheard of a young woman marrying an older man, and the girl’s inexperience is arousing for Bluebeard: ‘it must have been my innocence that captivated him’ [22]and ‘she accepts the stereotypical patriarchal view of a young girl in relationships to an experienced man; he is to initiate her and to enjoy his conquest.’[23] Many countries in the 70’s, including France, started petitions calling for the decriminalisation of all consenting relations between adults and minors. In 2006, in the Netherlands, the ‘Love Thy Neighbour, Freedom and Diversity’ Party’s aims were to ‘decriminalise sexual activities at any age unless dangerous or coerced’[24]. However, many Western cultures still find adult-child sexual relations to be controversial and taboo, though Carter does push the boundaries of this ideal with many of her protagonists being on the cusp of womanhood, such as the girl in The Company of Wolves: ‘her breasts have just begun to swell…she has just started her women’s bleeding’.[25]

Carter also challenges the status quo by having the heroine saved by a woman rather than a man. From the beginning it is made clear that the protagonist’s mother is a strong female character, she has ‘outfaced a junkful of Chinese pirates, nursed a village through a visitation of the plague, shot a man-eating tiger with her own hand’[26] The protagonist respects her mother deeply and is pleased to have her ‘nerves and will’[27] as well as her ‘mother’s spirit’[28]. Not only is she strong but she went against the social norms and married for love rather than money and security. Carter has questioned ‘the usual pattern of separation, transition, and return by making the girl’s mother, as a role model for her daughter, as one who has clearly operated outside the normal status quo of community expectations’.[29] However, the mother suffered the consequences of this decision as her husband died and left her in poverty. None the less, the protagonists embraces her mother’s marriage values, and even takes them a step further by not marrying at all but is happy to be ‘engaged in setting up house’[30] with Jean-Yves.

The mother and the protagonist share a special bond, in the first moment of crisis she goes to call her mother only to find the telephone line dead and yet this does not matter as the mother still arrives at the perfect moment. The protagonist explains it as ‘maternal telepathy’[31] but archetypal ideas say that ‘mother and daughter are a single complete unity’[32]. They also say that fairy tale mothers are different from real mothers as they often ‘possess subhuman or superhuman traits. For one thing they are better or more evil than the average human women.’[33] The mother kills the Marquis ‘without a moment’s hesitation’[34] suggesting she is more evil than average. It can be said that although the mother is strong and independent she still has to use the father’s gun, she could not possess her own.

Carter manages to both uphold and challenge the status quo in The Bloody Chamber through her portrayal of her heroine and the experiences she has. While traditional fairy tales condemned those who are too curious, Carter promotes the idea that a woman’s curiosity will lead to knowledge and power. Carter allows readers to question the original tales they were told as children and expose them to a darker and more sexual adaptation.

---

[1] Veronique Mottier, Sexuality: A Very Short Introduction, (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008) P.55

[2] Veronique Mottier, Sexuality P.55

[3] Eds. Roemer, Danielle M. and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, (Michigan: Wayne State University Press, 2001) P.67

[4] Jack Zipes, Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion, (Great Britain: Routledge, 2006) P.41

[5] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, (London: Vintage, 2006) PP. 34-35

[6] Eds. Roemer, Danielle M. and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale P.86

[7] Eds. Roemer, Danielle M. and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale P.96

[8] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.42

[9] Jack Zipes, Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion, (Great Britain: Routledge, 2006) P.30

[10] Ken Plummer, Telling Sexual Stories, (London: Routledge, 1995) P.149

[11] Marina Warner, From the Beast to the Blonde, (London: Vintage, 1995) P.310

[12] Marina Warner, From the Beast to the Blonde, P.313

[13] Jack Zipes, Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion P.41

[14] Jack Zipes, Fairy Tales and the Art of Subversion P.40

[15] Eds. Roemer, Danielle M. and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, P.103

[16] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.34

[17] Eds. Roemer, Danielle M. and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, P.98

[18] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.12

[19] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.13

[20] Angela Carter, ‘Bluebeard’, in The Fairy Tales of Charles Perrault, (Great Britain: Penguin Classics, 2008) P.4

[21] Eds. Danielle M. Roemer,  and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, P.98

[22] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.16

[23] Eds. Danielle M. Roemer,  and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, P.86

[24] Veronique Mottier, Sexuality P.106

[25] Angela Carter, ‘The Company of Wolves,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.133

[26] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.2

[27] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.26

[28] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.26

[29] Eds. Danielle M. Roemer,  and Cristina Bacchilega, Angela Carter and the Fairy Tale, P.97

[30] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.42

[31] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.41

[32] Sibylle Birkhauser-Oeri, The Mother: Archetypal Image in Fairy Tales, (Canada: Inner City Books, 1988) P.29

[33] Sibylle Birkhauser-Oeri, The Mother,  P.13

[34] Angela Carter, ‘The Bloody Chamber,’ in The Bloody Chamber, P.41

Textual Intervention - The Worst Essay Ever

I am having some serious issues with my Textual Intervention II essay. I have never hated an essay more than this one!

‘All works of art either uphold the status quo, or challenge it.’ Focusing on The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter, discuss how the author has used textual intervention and

craft (e.g. plot, characterisation, language) to challenge or promote specific sociocultural

agendas or ideas.

If anyone has any clue as to how to answer this I would greatly appreciate it! So far all I've got is a ton of books about fairy tales and another huge pile on sexual politics and gender.

I was thinking of writing about how Carter challenges the status quo by having the Mother save the day; this is radical by fairy tale standards and unheard of in a patriarchal society -  though I'll have to research that, hence the big pile of books. (Seriously, I have 9 books with me now and I did have like 7 more before!) In a way, this idea would also promote the idea of strong women and feminism, which is the dullest and most repetitive subject ever!

I would also do a comparison between Perrault's version of Bluebeard and Carter's The Bloody Chamber. I would note how the female protagonist is more active in The Bloody Chamber as she seeks to seduce Bluebeard in hopes that it will prevent her death instead of waiting for her brothers to save her - I guess this where the sexual politics and gender roles will come in.  

In a seminar we discussed that knowledge leads to power, and that the protagonist's knowledge of the chamber means she won't be tricked into going in their like the other three wives were. Gender roles would be important here too as it is usually the men with knowledge and therefore power, however, more women are being educated now and so wouldn't be as easily led to the chamber. This would again link back to the strong female.

Many fairy tales state that straying from the path can only lead to bad things, like in Little Red Riding Hood. However, because the protagonist strayed from the path by disobeying Bluebeard's orders to stay away from the locked room, she was actually able to save herself. So maybe curiosity didn't kill as many cats as we are led to believe.

At the same time Carter upholds the ideology of the perfect heterosexual relationship; Bluebeard woos the girl, buys her gifts, marries her, then wishes to consummate their marriage. The only out of the ordinary thing is when the mother kills him, but then again, what are Mother-in-Laws for?

So, this is all I've got so far but I guess it's a start. Again, if anyone else has any ideas, please comment.

A Wicked Fairy Tale - Cinderslut

Another fairy tale themed post! Again, this piece was written while I was at college and was inspired by none other than Angela Carter. Now that I am studying her at University I find there is a lot more to her stories than I had originally thought. Back in college I just thought she wrote sexual, feminist pieces, but now after learning about sexual politics, agendas, moral pornography I know how wrong I was. I preferred my college perspective; it was easier. Anyway, this is my Angela Carter-esque version of Cinderella. Enjoy.

Cinderslut

Once there was a widower, who soon after his wife’s death married another wealthy widow for he had lost all his money in poor trade. She was cruel, vain and completely selfish. She had her new husband completely under her control as soon as they were married, and let her two equally selfish daughters run amok; terrorising her husband’s only daughter: Cyndi.

The stepmother had always hated Cyndi, since she had first laid eyes on the child and wanted to get rid of her, but there was nothing she could do while the girl’s father, her husband, was still around. It was then that the stepmother decided to take action.

One day a couple of weeks after the wedding, while making her husband’s tea she dropped a spoonful of rat poison into boiling water, mixing it thoroughly with the tea leaves. She gave it to her husband and smiled as she took a sip of her own untainted tea. She watched with a twisted grin as he gulped the tea down. Instantly, his eyes bulged and his lips turned blue, he slumped in his chair and the china cup smashed on the floor. The stepmother waited a few seconds, taking a couple more sips of her tea, before letting out a convincing scream.

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Cyndi knew that her father’s death was no accident.At the funeral she was forced to stand with the servants while her stepfamily sobbed fake tears. Cyndi did not know it, but as her stepmother squeezed the false tears from her dry eyes she was already planning on how she would get rid of her dreadful stepdaughter.

Cyndi had always been a generous, sweet natured child but after her father’s death she was treated worse and worse and could no longer keep smiling. She was forced to work around the house and sleep in the cellar next to the hearth. Her stepsisters even gave her the wicked name of ‘Cinderslut’.

The manor soon fell into disrepair as Cyndi’s stepfamily spent all their money on frivolous things like dresses, perfumes, and jewellery, although none of these things could ever really help their hideous appearances or personalities. The roof had fallen apart in some areas and ivy grew into the walls, cracking up the frail foundations. A few of the windows were boarded up and the front door rattled in strong winds. Cyndi could not stand how despairing the old manor looked now, and her hatred for her stepfamily grew.

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A few months after the funeral, the perfect opportunity arrived for the stepmother to finally get rid of Cyndi forever. An old Baron friend of the stepmother’s had come to her late husband’s funeral and had expressed a desire in her little stepdaughter. The Baron had a drooping moustache, baggy jowls and a large belly, but plenty of gold and the stepmother could never say no to gold. She sent for Cyndi straight away. Whereas the Baron was near to old age, Cyndi was only just approaching womanhood. Her hair was thick and bright, her skin was beautifully unblemished, and her body was becoming supple and soft. The old Baron slavered at the thought of her being completely his, and only his. The stepmother could not help but notice the look he had on his face and was pleased that Cyndi would get what she deserved.

Cyndi entered the drawing room with her head held high, her butterscotch hair tied back with a headscarf and her face speckled with soot.

-          Cyndi, this is our very special guest, the Baron, the stepmother said.

-          Nice to meet you Baron, Cyndi bowed gracefully and the Baron eyed her young body much to Cyndi’s disgust.

-          The Baron has a wonderful proposition; he wishes to make you his wife.

Cyndi did not even falter; she would not give her stepmother the satisfaction. She could hear her stepsisters’ delighted cries of laughter at Cyndi having to marry this repulsive letch. She really did not want to marry this Baron but she could see no way out of it; she simply stood with her back straight and said nothing. Her stepmother seemed to think this meant that she was accepting the Baron’s offer.

-          Then it is decided! Cyndi will marry the Baron at midnight in three days time! The stepmother declared vindictively.

Before the Baron left that day he took Cyndi’s hand and pressed his lips to it in a slobbering kiss, she quickly snatched her hand away.

-          I look forward to tomorrow night, my dear, he whispered into her ear, whilst smelling her hair with undisguised pleasure.  Cyndi shuddered and stepped away from him; not wanting to be near him. His odour was overpowering, it was as if he had gone fishing for the weekend but had forgotten to wash since. The smell made her gag.

As soon as the Baron left and her stepfamily finally stopped laughing at her spitefully, Cyndi ran out of the unkempt manor; anger forming tears in her eyes. She ran to the bottom of the garden to the small overgrown gravestone of her Mother. It had been many years since she had been down to visit her Mother’s grave and hundreds of branches snaked across the weathered stone. Cyndi fell to her knees and finally let the tears fall.

She did not know how long she spent by her Mother’s grave but she felt exhausted and weary from the day’s events. She could not believe that in a few days she would be a married woman; a slave for yet another person.

-          Oh Mother, what am I going to do? Cyndi whispered to the overgrown grave.

A bustling wind rushed through the branches and whipped at her hair and a small purple flower with delicate petals but vicious thorns came to her attention. She peered at the flower; towards the middle the purple darkened to pure black, and just a sniff made her eyes flicker and an instant drowsiness fell upon her.

-          Hawthorn, she muttered.

She stared at the grave. Was this her Mother’s wish; to poison the Baron with this deadly flower? She looked back at the disastrous manor occupied with equally disastrous people. It was suitable revenge for what her stepmother had done to her home, family, and life. She plucked the small flower careful not to touch its thorns or breathe in its scent. She hurried to the kitchen and ground the plant up in a small bowl, amazed at the amount of black sap it released. She quickly poured it into a vial and corked it, tucking it safely in her apron.

As the clock struck midnight, she realised with irony that in three days time she would not be a wife, but a widower.

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The Ball was the talk of the ton. Hundreds of noblemen and lady friends of the Baron were invited and they were quick to accept. It was quite a scandal for the Baron to marry a woman untitled, much less a girl-child. Cyndi could feel their eyes following her but she tried to ignore them. It would not do for her to become nervous. She put her hands in the pockets of her lavish white gown and fingered the vial. It was only a matter of hours.

The ceremony was to come first though, and now Cyndi knew she must kiss the Baron no matter how much he disgusted her. When the time came she could see her stepfamily smirking gleefully behind their gloved hands, pretending to be crying with happiness. Cyndi held her breath and clenched her eyes shut. Again, the stench of fish overwhelmed her and her throat convulsed. His lips were moist and leathery, but it was the touch of his hands on her waist that made her recoil rapidly, breaking the kiss. The Baron smiled wickedly.

-          Yes, we must leave it for later; he murmured so only she could hear. Cyndi cringed. She had made up her mind; and this was the time to do it.

-          Why wait? She asked in what she hoped was a seductive tone and licked her pink lips timidly. His face brightened and his moustache twitched furiously.

-          Oh yes, my sweet, why don’t you go up all ready? I’ll entertain the guests for a while then I will join you. But please, put on the clothes I left for you.

Cyndi dreaded what awful clothes he had arranged for her to wear but exited the ballroom none the less. The Baron had given her a tour of the castle before the wedding so she climbed the stairs quickly to the Master Bedroom.

It was a dark room, with mahogany furniture and deep red velvet curtains and covers, all of which had the exact same smell as the Baron. Cyndi tried her best to hold her breath but could not last for long, so instead she willed herself to forget the smell was there; it was not for much longer and then she would be rid of this foul smelling monster.

The garment on the bed consisted of a lacy white negligee and white stockings; the fabric of both was so sheer that her body was practically bare. The negligee showed off her white skin, her pink nipples, the roundness of her bottom; each curve was on show. But Cyndi had to be strong so she sat proudly on a chair and waited for her newlywed husband.

It was not long before the door opened and said husband burst in, practically trembling with desire. His moustache was twitching so furiously this time when he saw his young bride in the virginal white gown and her blonde hair falling around her shoulders that it practically flew off his face. He devoured her with his eyes. Cyndi stood and beckoned him towards her with a finger. He came to her in a lust filled daze.

-          Oh, but wait. Cyndi interrupted, you must be thirsty, how about some wine, a toast to our marriage?

The Baron yearned so much for his girl-bride that he just nodded his head, enthralled by her glowing skin and tender body. She poured two goblets of wine and with nifty fingers poured the contents of the vial into his goblet too. The dark liquid turned the wine black before fading back to ruby red once more.  Cyndi turned to her husband, goblet in hand and smiled. She raised the wine to his lips and he drank eagerly.

After the first gulp the Baron’s eyes dimmed and his mouth slackened. After the second gulp his body stiffened and juddered. The spill of wine stained the front of Cyndi’s gown crimson as the goblet fell to the floor. The Baron pitched forwards towards Cyndi but she shoved him away causing him to crash to the floor. Then, just as her stepmother had before her, Cyndi let out a very convincing scream.

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Rumours had of course spread instantly as to how the Baron had died. But the Baroness never mentioned it and would give cold glares to anyone who did. She had inherited a lot of money and power with her widowhood, and with that power she had her stepfamily evicted from the manor and sent far away so she would never have to see them again. She also gave her mother a proper burial, right next to her father’s and a planted a small Hawthorn bush on top.

Just in case she was to wed again. 

Fairy Tale Art

After my Textual Intervention lecture, in which we were looking at Bluebeard, Beauty and the Beast, and Puss in Boots, I am in a very fairy tale mood. I have written many pieces on fairy tales over the years as I absolute adore them, I did my year 13 art course on them, too. So today instead of writing, I'm going to post a few of my fairy tale inspired art pieces, and then later some pieces of writing I have done. Hope you enjoy.

This piece was inspired by Angela Carter's The Bloody Chamber. Her dress features the main motifs of the story, which are: marriage hence the gold rings, the key as this leads her to the bloody chamber, and the skulls which relates to death and danger. The words around the woman are some of the more explicit pieces of language that Carter uses (everyone was particularly giggly at 'orgasm') as well as the most important, like 'forbidden' and 'lust'. Notice the number 3, a magic number in fairy tales - Bluebeard had three wives before this woman, and now he has three dead wives in his bloody chamber. The art style is based on Liselotte Watkins, who does the illustrations for Tamora Pierce's fantasy books. I had originally started the course by doing the traditional fairy tales and traditional drawing styles but my teacher wanted something more 'edgy'. And what is more edgy than Angela Carter?

Oh, by the way, if you haven't read The Bloody Chamber I would highly recommend it, especially if you love fairy tales, Carter gives them a funky twist. However, as I now have to read it for University, I absolutely despise it! I have to write an essay Carter's work, sexual politics, and moral pornography. Fun.

The following photographs were taken at my friend's house. She lives in an amazing house with a huge garden; it has an orchard, a field, a croquet lawn, a vegetable patch, everything! These photos were inspired by the stories of King Arthur, and after writing The Act of Love, I was really into the tale of the Lady of Shalott, who did not receive Lancelot's love and ended up dying; so a happy ending all round. I printed off these photos as well as others and made them into a little book. But as I mentioned earlier, my teacher wanted something more daring and so was only marginally interested in these, even though they took me a long time to do. Yeah, I didn't like my art teacher very much, she was a right meanie!

The girl who plays The Fair Maid of Astolat, who's real name is Eleanor, is actually called Elly herself, and did her role as fair maid very well. The blue dress she is wearing was made by my mum for my 16th birthday - it was a fairy tale theme as all the heroines in Disney seemed to be 16 years old. I would love to wear it more, but it's hard to find a reason for wearing a princess dress in everyday life!

The girl in the white dress is my friend, Izzy. She is playing the beautiful Guinevere as she searches for her secret beloved, Lancelot. The dress she is wearing was also made by my mum for my 13th birthday, which I shared with Izzy. We had a black and white themed masquerade at this very house, in this very garden. I had the most extravagant dress, as everyone else had just bought theirs off the high street. Looking back on it now I feel very foolish, as I was only 13 but acted like I was much older.