the abattoir letters

 A few weeks back, we got the chance to see The Housemaid, which at some point, I leaned over in the theater and whispered to J, "Oh, I see, it's a Jane Eyre story." Well, sort of. The newly hired and attractive nanny, the sexy, wealthy father. Well, maybe not what C. Bronte had in mind, but definite notes of similar stories--Rebecca, Crimson Peak, Turn of the Screw (sans the mysterious husband anyway). Most gothic novels and governess stories. It occurred to me later that really, at their heart, they are Bluebeard stories--the framework of them. The thematic threads. the outsider in a place of danger, for women in particular.  Patriarchy comes into play. As does class (its no accident that the governess sleeps in her car and has a criminal record). In The Housemaid's case, the dead wife is not locked in an attic or trapped, but walking around completely alive but entrapped nonetheless. It's a reveal that is almost as starling as the famous mid-novel one in Gone Girl, and no doubt many of the reasons for the novel the film is based on being a bestseller. But its also different in that Bluebeard is a charmer and seemingly good guy in a bad situation.  You have to be paying really close attention to catch the scent of what's really going on. 

Around the time we saw the film, I started plotting the new set of poems that I am currently working on (you've already seen some of the collages that accompany the project if you've been following my IG.) Like mythology, I've written a lot of poems based on fairytales in the past. In fact, I often chide myself for doing so almost too heavily in my early work (things like literature, folklore, art, and history are great subject matter when you haven't yet lived enough or learned to harvest your own life for poetic material.)  In some ways, it felt like a crutch. In others, writing about cultural touchpoints can be a great way to connect with readers and explore retellings of stories they already know.  These iterations can sometimes offer more in-depth examinations of themes--those drawn out by the author or already there in abundance. I tend to also gravitate to work, both as a reader and editor for the dgp series, that work and re-work fairy tales and folklore.  One of my first artist book projects was a series on Little Red Riding Hood called THE BOOK OF RED. My third full-length book THE SHARED PROPERTIES OF WATER AND STARS had, at its heart, the Goldilocks tale. Later,  I wrote a more witch-sympathetic interpretation of Hansel and Gretel with PLUMP. There are also other loose poems that do similar things with existing stories. 

As someone newly married, Bluebeard has been on my mind. Probably because the first couple years we were seeing each other, I had not been to J's home and was completely convinced he was too good to be true. So obviously had to have a basement full of dead women he was hiding somewhere.  It's also especially funny since he actually eventually moved in with me, so all the secrets and locked rooms had to be mine.(I did tell him to avoid the entryway closet with its ever-avalanching mounds of press and art supplies I shoved in there when I moved out of my studio space and just haven't found a home for elsewhere in the apartment.) For this project, I was also a little inspired by the musical SIX, which details Henry VIII's wives and their mishaps, which, while all did not die at his hand, can be an interesting correlative in terms of the powerlessness of women historically.   

The poems are going well, and I will be sharing bits from them in the coming weeks. They will also be part of the Patreon offerings for February (still working on what that will look like. I decided the epistolary was a perfect form for them, as in letters from the last. wife to Bluebeard himself, though she becomes a chorus of other fragmented voices of dead wives. 

 

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