Mabinogion, False Unicorn, Frankincense, Troy

It’s been a misty, wet week but at least we’ve got a turkey in the fridge ready for Thanksgiving tomorrow, and I did manage to get a batch of writing and research done. My novel research took me from Apuleius’ The Golden Ass to the medieval Mabinogion to a revisitation of The Homeric Hymn to Demeter (which I studied at university). I also learnt all about The Akashic records and some super names of herbs of which I was only half familiar eg False Unicorn, Cat’s Foot, Shepherd’s Purse.
For a travel magazine assignment, I also looked into Omani Frankincense. Oman was at the center of Arabia’s famous frankincense trade. This aromatic resin is now mainly used in aromatherapy and perfumery, but in the ancient world it was more important than gold. Every major civilization bought frankincense from the region, Omani frankincense being the best in the world. It was among the three gifts the Magi bought the infant Jesus, as everyone knows.
Other notes: I’m eager to read Peter Ackroyd’s new novel The Fall of Troy, which was favorably reviewed in last week’s New York Times Book Review. The novel fictionalizes the story of the obsessive 19th-century archaeologist Heinrich Schliemann.
I also picked up the free women's magazine "Skirt" in Blockbusters, of all places, and was pleasantly surprised. It's published in a few cities around the US and it was packed full of uplifting pieces - many of them very thoughtful and surprising. Perfect for snuggling up with in bed on a weeknight, after a bubble bath. You can also read it online: http://www.skirt.com.
Happy Thanksgiving.

Eisteddfod NY 2007, Andrei Platonov

If any of you are in New York this weekend, do check out the NY Eisteddfod - a showcase of folkmusic from around the world. Unlike the famous annual National Eisteddfod of Wales, there won't be a strong druidic flavor, but they've got an impressive scope of talented folk artists including the "Karelian Ensemble", a trio from the Russian-Finnish border that performs old shepherd melodies on wooden trumpet and local dance tunes on accordians. You can view the preview I wrote for Time Out NY here:
http://www.timeout.com/newyork/article/music/24196/eisteddfod-ny-2007
As for Andrei Platonov, I recently discovered him in the New Yorker. They published his recently translated story "Among Animals And Plants." I'm definitely going to read more of his work. I love the line in the opening paragraph: "At this time of year, a whiff of mist hung in the forest - from the warmth and moisture of the air, the breath of developing plants, and the decay of leaves that had perished long ago."

Hansel and Gretel/Dark Chocolate/Manga/Why the Devil Chose New England for His Work

Well, the gloves and scarfs are out. Winter definitely sharpened its claws in Boston this week. But the sun's shining, and the sky's a smooth swish of blue, so I'm not complaining - yet.
Last night I snuggled up on the sofa and munched through the pile of newspapers/magazines which I hadn't got around to reading properly the past fortnight. I particularly enjoyed Bill Buford's profile in the Oct 29 edition of The New Yorker: "Extreme Chocolate: Searching for the perfect bean, in Bahia", about Frederick Schilling who opened a chocolate factory and founded Dagoba Organic Chocolate. It's a great story, which includes a description of how Schilling was convinced he was visited by Xochiquetzal, the Aztec goddess of cacao. Other note-worthy articles I happened upon were "How Manga [comics/print cartoons] Conquered The US: A graphic guide to Japan's coolest export" by Jason Thompson in Wired magazine, and, in the Nov 5 edition of The New Yorker, a superb portfolio of evocative pictures inspired by the fairytale Hansel and Gretel: seventeen artists were asked by the Metropolitan Opera to offer their own interpretations of the story to mark the new production of Engelbert Humperdinck's "Hansel and Gretel" (the original artworks can be viewed at the Metropolitan Opera House's Gallery Met).
I've also discovered a new writer - Jason Brown. His short story collection "Why the Devil Chose New England for His Work" caught my eye in Barnes and Noble and when I started reading his story "Trees", I couldn't put it down. His voice is very distinct - haunting, raw, unexpected. One of his stories ends "He turned around and looked up, as if at a mountain peak or a descending plane, but there was nothing above except a line of high white clouds pulling up over the valley like a cold sheet."
Well, I'm off to write now. I've been a bit stuck on one section of the novel for a couple of days and I talked it over with Christian who came up with some magical ideas within seconds. I got incredibly excited. Anyway, I'm all set to go back to the lake and forest again now.

Welcome, and Mulberry Tree/Pyramus and Thisbe

Hello! So you've tumbled down the rabbit hole and found yourself here. I can't promise a tea party, but hopefully you'll find something which will tickle your interest. Yikes, how to start a blog? Perhaps I'll begin by describing where I'm writing from, my study (or burrow as my husband likes to call it), surrounded by a treasure of magical books (favorites include The Shell Collector by Anthony Doerr, How To Breathe Underwater by Julie Orringer, The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter, Completely Unexpected Tales by Roald Dahl, The Stories of Breece D'J Pancake). On the wall in front of me are sketches of forests in Wales by my grandmother (a painter and cartoonist), all kinds of Post-Its which are supposed to remind me of a variety of things - like joining the Boston mycological society, that I want an owl and mist in the next section of my new novel, Into The Lake, that I should read the novel Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro, which has repeatedly been recommended to me.
Yesterday, in honor of Halloween, my husband and I ate ghost-shaped biscuits and watched the movie, A Dark Place, a very loose adaptation of The Turn Of The Screw, directed by Donato Rotunno. It was an interesting script, with some evocative shots and moments, and the children actors were fantastic - the way they kept smiling was distinctly creepy. Tara Fitzgerald also gave a stellar performance as the house-keeper. However, the plot conclusion was unsatisfying.
I'll leave it there for the moment - I haven't eaten breakfast yet and I'm off to make myself some oatmeal with chopped banana. Then I'll work on Into The Lake for an hour of so before heading to BC. My students are exceptionally bright this year, an absolute treat to teach. On Tuesday we discussed the essays "The Joy of Reading and Writing: Superman and Me" by Sherman Alexie and "On Keeping A Notebook" by Joan Didion, and today we're workshopping some of their own pieces.
Sophie
p.s. I titled this post so because I fell asleep last night thinking of the mulberry tree which grew in a shadowy corner of our garden, growing up. My mother baked the most delicious cakes from its fat, succulent fruit but always dreaded the time when the mulberries ripened. We would inevitably stain our clothes whenever we climbed the old, gnarled tree to pick the deep-purple berries. But how exquisitely delicious they were... on a different level of scrumptiousness even to the best blackberries. You can check out Ovid's Metamorphoses (Bk 4) to learn the Classical myth about how the tree came to grow these blood-red berries.