the best things are usually red, like blood, like love

I finished Rumi and the Red Handbag by Shawna Lemay this morning and I dissolved into tears; I had my soul filled with light and was blinded with said light, and it was horrific and lovely and so, so beautiful. I was recommended it by someone who reviewed The Fairy Tale Museum, and you know how that made me feel. So. It was…like TFTM, and yet not. It had the same kind of beauty, but was more solid, less surrealistic. But I loved it, even so. Thus! Quotes and quotes and quotes.

“I had dropped out of a doctoral program and had internalised my identity as a failed scholar quickly. This new identity did something to me, compressed my spine, and all of the fear I harboured did not turn into fearlessness but rather an agitated despair. I often felt lost and dizzy and numb and stupid all in a rush. I became suddenly interested in all the nuances of my own dreams rather than with anything I had ever read, I was liquid where before I had been solid.”

“I knew I would always be distant from her, but this distance was immediate and irrevocably intimate, filling me with the most intense apprehension for random instants.”

“Secrets, anyway, are usually incidental. How you keep one is important, how you choose to live with it, let it alter you, matters. Perhaps is makes you a kinder person, someone more willing to forgive and understand. Secrets have that potential.”

“I was born wary. I just was. And whenever I talked myself out of that wariness on the grounds that it was plainly foolish, I got burned. I got sent a flaming email or found myself backing away, slowly, carefully, having discovered something unsavoury.’

“And though I cannot put it into words at all, no not at all, at the time I knew I was experiencing something that changed my chemical makeup in some small but significant manner.”

A quote in a quote:
“How to set the direction of the soul? The soul’s compass? We began with the words of Simone Weil, ‘If the soul is set in the direction of love…the nearer we approach to the beauty of the world.’ Was this our goal? To approach nearer to the beauty of the world?”

“The idea of hoarding thoughts, holding so many threads of ideas like cupped water as you knelt, knees grinding into the finest gravel, thirsty by a mountain stream, did not terrify or oppress by instead exhilarated her.”

“And all those people who automatically disparage romances, I don’t trust them, you know? What are they afraid of? The small fantasies of millions of women? I wonder.”

“And here she laughed her sparkly etude and I thought of Chopin and white twinkle lights on late summer nights and sequins at a dull office party.”

“It is not how one soul approaches another but in how it distances itself from it that I recognise their affinity and relatedness.”

“And let’s not forget, cosmic snow, delicate and elegant, tinged with an otherworldly pink and blue.”

“I myself don’t want the disruption of those whose soul lacks luminosity.”

“Are we not ensouled? Are we not entwined? Have we not made a mark on each other, however slippery the soul might be? We do care for each other, we do!”

think of it as a world without end

I finished “The Fairy Tale Museum” by Susannah M. Smith, and I have no words for it. As I said on the bird hellsite, that wasn’t a book, that was an experience. I can’t explain it to anyone; you’ll have to experience it for yourself. So have some words from it, instead, to tempt you to do so:

“What are you doing, little fox?
With a sideways glance and a flick of its tail, the fox might answer, I am in the thicket, now and always. I am the jewel in the obscurity.”

“People say it’s about the journey, not the destination. Dialectical thinking has its limitations.”

“Same moon. Different birds. How is it that libraries are so beautiful? The square at night. Narrow streets behind the cathedral. Books in different languages. You get lost. You find your way.”

“I felt the whispers of thousands of stories pushing up against me.”

“Things are not as you have been taught.
What you thought was blood was a metaphor for vital energy.
What you thought was scary was simply important.
What felt haunting only wanted you to be present.
Your instincts have brought you here.
Nothing is broken that cannot be repaired.
Remember who you are.”

“I don’t want to live without the sparklers, the brightness. Without that feeling of lying flat on the ground, pressed down with barely any blood or breathing and barely even any bones. What good is living without that? Only TV and TV and TV.”

“She can feel the future with all its colours.”

“Use your imagination. Wear your crown on the inside.”

“As if there had never been any reason for unhappiness.
As if all you had to do was believe in what you wanted
and it would happen.”

“Is the castle off in the distance,
or is it just behind your sternum?”

“When I’m awake during the night I use whatever scrap of paper is nearby. I write words, scribble, and jot. I burn holes. I take whatever comes. I trust my unconscious. There are always coloured pencils and pens and boxes of matches in the cupboard beside my bed. I am never without my supplies.”

“Is surrealism unfashionable? Is psychological inquiry embarrassing? I don’t care. I don’t pay attention to trends. I do exactly as I please.”

“He sees the bushes at the edge of the field and senses the blue fox in the underbrush. Its silken body glitters with jewels, hidden at the edge of the park.”

“A voice in his head tells him: You’re building a city. Each poem is a spire. The spires cluster together. Soon bells will ring. He smiles. Knowing that the blue fox is out there winking in the dark brings him happiness.”

“…all those damn rock stars with their dreamy poet eyes and tattoos.”

“Sometimes when you live by yourself, you need a bit of company; you need to make something out of nothing to know you exist.”

“Listen here. Yes, you. Don’t sleep with a clock radio beside your bed. It isn’t good for your electrical field. Same goes for the cellphone. You may scoff, but I still dream my own dreams. Do you?”

“A diamond. His heart was that hard. And yet, it shines in him. He can feel it.”

“If a star shines in the forest and no one is there to see it, is there any coruscation?”

“She was everything good about me that I hadn’t yet become.”

“She drew lingering looks from men and women she passed in the streets. She was like that. A rare thing from another world.”

“I’m almost who I want to be.”

“You’d been let go for dreaminess and are out on a mid-afternoon lark. Sometimes a person’s got to put the stars back in her eyes.”

“You stand in the doorway on the edge of the night. The edge of your excursion. You wait until the pathway is deserted and then, with a sudden decisive movement, you turn up your collar and move forward into the glow.”

“This is where everything happens. This is where worlds unfold. You settle in, turn your face to the screen, and close your eyes.”

“I’ve held you in my mind as I’ve skated through multitudes, as I’ve gathered all these specimens and turned them slowly in the light.”

 

barely

 

“In men reason is strong and magic is weak. With fairies it is the other way round: magic comes very naturally to them, but by human standards they are barely sane.”

— Susanna Clarke, Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell