Happy Easter folks! Hope you all have an eggztra fabulous long weekend! 😀
“Vraxi! You… you came!” Edmund’s stunning heterochromatic eyes gleamed bright with emotion as he waved and began weaving his way through the throng of assembled students, lecturers and members of the general public who filled the library almost to bursting, towards the door through which the Yag and his demon charge had entered.
“This is Edmund, heart-on-sleeve,” Vraxi whispered as they watched him attempt to politely negotiate his way through the wall of bodies.
Xander The Demon raised his eyebrows, “So I tell him outright that I think he is an abomination of nature and his parents were perverts and defilers?” he asked.“You think that would be the best course of action here to keep us both ‘alive.’ ?”
“Gods no!” Vraxi slapped his forehead with his hand and rolled his eyes; baby sitting this one might be tougher than he had first expected. “Not you! Edmund. Edmund wears his heart on his sleeve,” he hissed urgently. “He is a good friend, a wonderful person, one of the most beautiful souls you could ever hope to meet… and also we need him, so, … try to be nice and keep your prohibitively puritanical opinions to yourself.”
The demon nodded sagely and attempted a warm smile as Edmund finally managed to squeeze through and stand beside them.
“You came!” the half demon repeated, breathlessly.
“Did I not promise as much?” Vraxi said, with a little bow and a wink which made Edmund flush scarlet.
“And this is… not Xander?” Edmund asked uncertainly.
“Indeed. This is Xander’s demon, as I told you. But we have no desire to rock the boat here, Edmund, let us install ourselves somewhere unobtrusive while you give your marvellous speech on…” he rolled his long delicate fingers…
“Demons Of love And Light” Edmund supplied, with a small smile.
“It was on the tip of my tongue,” Vraxi lied with a twinkle which sent Edmund blushing again. “And then afterwards…” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “..we hope to hold you to your own promise of dinner? To discuss our, er, little problem?”
“It is all arranged!” Edmund beamed, “Dinner, in my rooms at the university.” He lowered his head suddenly then and mumbled something to his shoes.
Vraxi frowned, such a beautiful gaze should not be so often wasted on the floor, he thought to himself, and gently brought his delicate fingers under Edmunds chin and drew it up so they were eye to eye,“Forgive me, I didn’t catch that,” he said, smiling encouragingly.
“I… I said thankyou, Vraxi, for coming I mean, and… well, for everything… it really means a lot, m- more than I can say… A lot of the other students feel I shouldn’t be here, not only because I am a half-demon, but also because I have only secured a place through sponsorship. I feel so much happier knowing there is someone here who… who is a friend.”
Oh dear, thought the Yag, as he felt his heart melt to molten lava, What am I getting myself into with this one? “Listen…” he began, but stopped almost immediately, caught off guard by a sudden urge to seize these cretinous students – and anyone else who had ever emotionally wounded the half-demon – and force them to suffer the same pain he saw reflected in those beautiful, captivating eyes.
“…listen,” he tried again, clasping Edmund by the shoulders, “the world would be a much nicer place with more people like you in it, sadly you are a rare treasure Edmund, a diamond amongst mundane rocks and anyone who cannot see that does not deserve the richness of your company. Now, your audience awaits – go and wow them with your revelations, go and win their hearts and alter their dull-witted, monochrome perceptions with words of hard-won truth.”
He sighed wistfully as Edmund beamed his thanks and began weaving his way back to the front of the library where a small podium had been set up for him to give his talk.
“Hand me a shovel.” he said, unable to drag his gaze from the half-demon’s retreating rear.
“You said nothing of digging a hole,” the demon said, looking confused.
Vraxi put his hands on his hips and shook his head, “It’s a hobby of mine, it seems.” he said ruefully.
Happy MythpunkMonday! A while back in September, we looked at the mythology and folklore of trees and I shared an extract of some of my tree-based mythpunk Opre! I promised then that I would spend another post looking at working trees into our Mythpunk, so here we go…
As comfortably as trees sit within the heart of many world Mythologies, they don’t lend their image so readily to the realm of punk, at least not at first glance.
We tend to associate trees with the countryside, with high fantasy or historical settings, they might be used in writing to create the feel of tranquillity or terror but we seldom see trees being used to create a gritty urban backdrop for a dystopian situation, or being the catalyst for a postmodernist plot. Fictional trees that speak, tend to speak like old men and women, or very occasionally naive young girls. I would like very much to see a Mohawk sporting, forty-something, jaded Willow Tree hurling cans at litter louts in a psuedo-park in central New London…
That’s an extreme and slightly comical example of course, but I think it’s a good hammer with which to smash our preconceptions about trees in mythic fiction. Trees are, to my mind, too often portrayed as benign life givers, old fonts of wisdom and healing, sources of magic, resources to be used and abused. But they have other faces too ; they can poison, choke, harm, barb, wound, unbalance, tear down and destroy … I mentioned Tolkien’s Ents in the last post in relation to anthropomorphism, but I do very much like their verve!
Our historic abuse of trees and their land surely has enough fodder in it for gritty, feral, subversive voices to rise up from the asphalt and the concrete, the timber frames, furnace and cellulose packaging and bite back so, here is a little list of tree-mendous (had to be done) tree-punk to give us some inspiration, click on each title to follow the links and feel free to share your own ideas, examples and gawd-awful tree puns in the comments! XD
I very much like the trees described in Blades In The Dark ; Jayan Park in the Charterhall district is full of beautiful alchemical abominations in a sunless world, deadly to touch and utterly useless for supporting life, but still revered.
“The great alchemist for whom this park is named contrived to formulate soil and seeds that could produce real, growing trees, without sunlight or radiant energy. They are horrifically toxic to all living things and must not be touched but they still grow beautifully here, over 100 years later.” – Blades In The Dark P262.
In a world not so different from our own, a vigilante group of techies have shut down all the computer systems on the planet in an attempt to put an end to the war and destruction orchestrated by technology. But where there’s a will, there will always be a way and a new ‘cellulose tech’ has now been developed. But using living plant cells in communications technology leads to some disturbingly sentient systems… and then the people begin to vanish…
A POISON TREE
This poem by William Blake is, of course, not actually about a tree but I find the imagery and metaphor strongly evokes a punk sense of proactive subversion; the vengeful gardener, the poisoned fruit / the bright lure to death – in many ways the song of technology to the heart of human kind; the two fingered punk salute at the end…
Here’s a suckerpunch one for you, this one got me right in the windpipe when I saw it so I’m only going to post the link in the title and you can follow it to the picture. It’s inspiring my WIP at the moment!
This broke my heart, appalled and held me enthralled with grim fascination when I first saw it a few years back. The video gives one side of the coin, click the title link for the other…
And just as a fun note to end on – Yes they do exist!
I hope you enjoyed this #MythpunkMonday post, do feel free to join in and share your own work or that of others, using the hashtag and post your own thoughts and tree-punk wisdom in the comments 🙂
Good Morning Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Max and Collin’s pristinely punked-up and ruthlessly rebellious parlour located somewhere near the grumbling appendix of that splendidly scenic city of Lancaster.
True some have postulated that we are an inconvenient truth which our landlord has sought to bury in his darkest and most inhospitable dungeon, but we consider that any below ground level abode is vastly preferable to one with windows in a city that is overrun by flesh eating birds. In short, we couldn’t be happier with the arrangement. ish.
You find us immensely apologetic that we have not been ‘at home’ the last few days – we honestly swear that we have been up to a lot of very good things and Penny will tell you about them shortly but for now all we can do is humbly offer an appeasing teapot overflowing with splendid keemun xiang luo, an epicly proportioned slice of sticky ginger cake, and two excellent books…
The first of which is….
This book came into our hands via the eminent procurer of curiosities via the historical Suffolk ‘free trading’ system – steampunk author Nils Nisse Visser , and fans of his excellent book ‘Amster Damned’ will be happy to see another splendid smuggler’s tale ‘The Rottingdean Rhyme’ featuring the series’ central character Alice Kittyhawk (as her much younger and frankly adorable self).
The collection is a gleaming treasure trove of subversive, twisted, re-imagined and perfectly punked-up versions of classic tales from a wide variety of genres and time periods;
Our personal favourite was ‘A Connecticut Rigger In Kings Court’ not only because we are utterly besotted with anything to do with Ada Lovelace but because it was challenging and heartbreaking and had that exquisite but very subtle tension between beauty and abomination that pervades all good Gothic tales, but presented in a refreshingly original way.
We also loved The Red Headed Mob by Anthony Stark which, although not quite as ‘punk’ as some of the other tales, was a strong, well written and altogether utterly enjoyable tale that set Holmes and Watson amid the political and social tension of the 1980s.
There really is something for everyone in here from ‘Aurelia Awakes’ by Andrea Hintz giving Pinocchio a delightful Steampunk make-over to ‘Of Folly And Fallibility’ by Amber Cook who skillfully manganese to take Jane Austin to ‘new heights’… “If an ordinary woman is to become a heroine, she cannot allow the unremarkable state of her life to prevent it. She must and will do something, anything, to throw adventure her way…” Or from Rachel A Brune’s ‘Bea Wolf’ to Jeffery Cook and Katherine Perkins’ ‘Consolidated Scrooge’ and plenty more besides but we won’t list them all – you need to have a peek at this chocolate box for yourselves…
Our second book this morning is also from Writerpunk Press and (only because of our obsessive compulsive penchant for punking Poe) was our favourite of the two and longstanding followers will remember we did feature it in our Poevember month last year – but it’s such a fantastic collection we’re sure you won’t mind us singing its praises once again…
Here in the parlour we have read lots of Poe, we have punked lots of Poe, we have read lots of attempts at punking Poe and we therefore, rather egotistically, consider ourselves to be quite the connoisseurs of the genre. So when we say that “this collection of short stories is a splendid spectrum of Gothic gorgeousness that takes a hearty cross section of the Poevian gamut, distils each essence into scintillating glass vials and then creates a series of new and wonderful word-creatures in which the marrow of Poe lives on” you can take us at our word.
The macabre, the melancholy and the madness that we all expect from Poe are here in abundance but the ‘punk’ aspect is very skillfully executed throughout to give a collection that is inventive, refreshing, exciting and unpredictable. Steampunk seems to marry well with Poe for obvious reasons but we hadn’t anticipated how well his themes would be translated here into Cyber, Bio and Diesel as well.
Sandwiched between two vibrant and enthralling versions of The Fall of The House Of Usher, we have another gem from the world of Alice Kittyhawk ‘The Oval Skyroom’ , the beautiful ‘To Helen’, the sinister ‘Envy Of Angels’ and ‘Silence, Stillness, Night’ , the pure insanity of ‘Ticker’ and so very many more treasures that we often find ourselves dipping into on a rainy afternoon or long skyrail journey. This is an indispensable addition to the library of punk and Poe fans alike.
And now the teapot is empty and we are quite breathless from all this talk so I hope you will excuse us as we retire for a little snooze? We wish you a devilishly delightful afternoon and until we see you again, please be always
A Post Script From Penny – I’ve started using the ’embed’ version of sharing amazon titles because it’s easier and quicker than authors having to send me cover files and also hopefully easier to find the book if you want to sample or buy it. I haven’t signed up to the affiliate amazon programme though, if I ever do I will make that clear in the posts. If anyone would strongly prefer me to go back to the old method of posting just the cover file and links let me know 🙂