Joyce Carol Oates. Dutton Books, 1994. Originally published 1994. 28 pages. Gothic tale.
Few people will argue with me when I state that Joyce Carol Oates is a talented author, who has proved herself more than capable of writing stories that positively shines with originality.
Accursed Inhabitants of the House of Bly, however, is no such story, and neither was it designed to be.
Instead, it is a paraphrasing of the century-old The Turn of the Screw, and this is important to keep in mind as you first delve into the book.
Continue reading Book Review: Accursed Inhabitants of the House of Bly
When I was nothing more than just a child,
The Lemon Tree was happy notes and dance.
I would skip around with the melody in mind,
A song purely delightful, at first glance.
But as I became older and the lyrics became clear,
I realised how tragic they were.
Bitterness and tears, caught in song,
And I don’t know which version I prefer.
But then again, sad as it is,
Perhaps it’s part of growing up.
When The Lemon Tree stops being sounds,
And becomes a story of two lovers’ break-up.
The first time I heard about The One,
I got terrified!
Imagine just one perfect person,
To stand by your side.
Among seven billion people,
I mean that’s just insane!
So I believe that there are many,
Whose love would remain.
Through better or worse,
Through all that I might feel,
It’s about potential and hard work,
For soul mates… are not real.
Bram Stoker. Norton Critical Edition, 1986. Originally published 1897. 488 pages. Gothic tale.
The story of Dracula is one of the best-known horrors of all time, and though the book is over a century old, the story is still read avidly by readers across the globe.
But let’s be honest. The world is not like it was a century ago. For one thing, we spend quite a lot of our time watching television. Series, commercials, movies. And a considerable amount of these movies are horrors. You could almost say that we are used to them by now. We are no strangers to the image of blood splattering across the wall, and we have all heard the sound of terrifying screams filling the night. Fictionally speaking that is. We have gotten exceptionally talented at deciphering when something is merely special effects and solid acting.
Continue reading Book Review: Dracula by Bram Stoker
A/N: Just a couple of thoughts I had after reading the book.
The Mysteries of Udolpho is perhaps the most perfect example of a Gothic tale.
Travels through Europe, seemingly supernatural mysteries, and a heroine who most conveniently faints, whenever the plot demands it.
Whatever you assimilate with the genre of Gothic, you will most likely find in The Mysteries of Udolpho.
It is certainly not a problem to see why people in the 18th century considered this thrilling tale a page-turner, but for the modern reader the story is most likely also going to appear unnecessary long and with an entirely unneeded quantity of poetry.
A couple of hundred of pages could easily be cut away, and Radcliffe would have been better off using half a dozen fewer sub-plots.
Nevertheless, The Mysteries of Udolpho can still be an entertaining story for the modern reader – assuming that he or she has the time to spare.
When you realise it’s Friday,
And you have nothing to post.
So you compose a silly poem,
To quickly upload.
If you ask a person how they want to die,
Most people quite agree.
The best way to go is quietly,
Sleeping in, utterly carefree.
But if you ask a Viking, it’s a different matter,
As this is what they’ll say.
Die with honour and vigour, sword in your hand,
And it’s worth having to go away.
Away to Valhalla where you’ll sit among,
The greatest warriors ever to die.
Odin himself is sat not far from you,
As you listen to the battle cry.
So what will it be, if you had to choose?
Sleeping peacefully in, or the never-ending booze?
She was steel.
Back straight, head held high.
No blushes, sideways glances,
Nothing coy and nothing shy.
She was steel.
Always standing proud and tall.
And determined to never fall.
She was steel and yet so kind.
For strength does not leave compassion behind.
I’ve decided that I am writing a book.
Or at least that is what I’m trying.
Maybe it would be more correct to say,
I’m just keeping myself from crying.
But maybe I just need words to come out,
Instead of writing, I’ll try a recorder.
Then afterward I can begin to worry,
About the words and about the order.
I dream of a character, who’s funny and deep,
And all my readers truly adore him.
But for now, my only wish is this:
To not kill my readers through boredom.
And the hope that keeps me going is really quite simple.
The second book will be easier, oh, please God will it
I got a French manicure today.
(And my husband left me).
It’s a very stylish look.
(He says that the woman he loved is dead).
I think perhaps I’ve never looked better.
(He says he misses my laughter).
And that is all that matters now.