Peg Kerr's Journal

While juggling a pretty heavy work load at the office today, my back brain was quietly mulling over possible proposals I might make for the Fantasy Matters conference. A few observations:

1) the deadline is in two weeks, so I don't have much time to come up with something, but on the other hand, they only are asking for a 250 word abstract.

2) I guess I'm thinking of submitting to present a paper rather than an author's sample to do a reading; I have fiction I could present (from the ice palace book), but I don't know if I'm ever going to finish that book, and I'm not actively working on it now. It feels more honest, somehow to do a paper. I need to find out how long of a paper they want (and would it get published?); it doesn't say in the Call for Papers. They only give you fifteen minutes for your presentation (it says with five minutes for questions; is that part of the fifteen minutes or an additional five minutes?)

3) What category I'd submit it under is a bit fuzzy. I am a writing professional, although not working actively on fiction now. I have a graduate degree, but am not in a program at the moment. So which category do I submit under? This is probably a question I can send to the inquiries e-mail for clarification.

Vague idea # 1

Something about the heart of flesh/heart of stone theme I've been chewing over with such fascination for so long. I've talked about tracing this theme throughout all the fiction I've loved (including, say, Dickens and Austen, among others). Looking at the specific call for papers for this conference, what can I say about the heart of flesh/heart of stone theme specifically in fantasy literature? Is there something about the working out of this theme that is particularly distinctive in fantasy? The whole germ of my thinking about this theme, after all, came from a fantasy novel, from pameladean's Author's Afterward to Tam Lin. I'd look again at Emma Bull's essay "Why I Write Fantasy," which in turn, touches upon Tolkien's "On Fairy Stories." (Although that latter essay is such a seminal work in fantasy criticism that it is hardly necessary to thrash it out again; and anyway, in terms of the presentation, that alone would more than take up the entire time allotted.) I'd love to touch upon this using Snape's character in the HP books as an example, as I spoke about during my snapecast essay. It might be a bit difficult to pitch a proposal on this for two weeks from now, however, when final story arc about his character won't even be coming out until mid-July.

*Sigh* I am not sure that my thoughts would coalesce enough on this idea, or I would be able to develop the structure of a solid paper.

Vague idea # 2

The fantasy element of transformation, specifically of the mortal becoming a bird. I'd have a particular authority to speak on this subject, as I've written a book doing exactly that (although perhaps presenting a paper where your own fictional work is part of the subject might be viewed as rather tacky? I have no idea what academic etiquette would be here.)

kijjohnson once gave me a swan card from a sacred animal tarot deck. The notes accompanying it talked about the swan entering Dreamtime (perhaps the collective unconscious, or even Death), ushering into a time of altered states of awareness and development of intuitive abilities.

"Swan medicine people have the ability to see the future, to surrender to the power of the Great Spirit, and to accept the healing and transformation of their lives. The Swan card is telling you to accept your ability to know what lies ahead. If you are resisting your self-transformation, relax; it will be easier if you go with the flow. Pay attention to your hunches and your gut knowledge and honor your intuitive side."

Could trace these ideas through a variety of works: The Children of Lir, Grimm, The Wild Swans--my re-telling, Nicholas Stuart Gray's, Juliet Marillier's works (which I'm rather embarrassed to admit I haven't even read yet), touching even perhaps The Goose Girl or The Ugly Duckling. There are actually loads of stories using this theme, the challenge would be limiting the subject matter.

Thoughts?

Of course, I reserve the right to do neither one of these paper ideas. I even might not submit anything at all. But do either of these ideas sound faintly interesting?

I got together with 1minnesotagirl and alfreda89, who are up from Texas. We got together at Cafe Latte, where they had dinner and we ate decadent desserts, including their famous diablo chocolate torte (with cinnamon and a dash of cayenne pepper). It was a lovely evening, my first chance to meet alfreda89, and conversation ranged over a wide variety of topics. I blew my calorie count for the day out of the water. Ah well, special occasion.

I was listening to the next episode of Snapecast (snapecast) on the way home. Naturally, since I've been thinking about the This Slytherin Life essay I submitted to them that they will be broadcasting next month, and because I ingested too much chocolate and caffeine tonight, I am sitting down to mull over hearts of flesh and hearts of stone again, instead of going to bed like a sensible person.

I have been reading Dickens' Bleak House (through my Daily Lit e-mails) which I've never read before, as well as Pamela Aidan's Darcy trilogy, her rewriting of Pride and Prejudice from Darcy's point of view. Charles Dickens and Jane Austen, I've always maintained, have plumbed this theme in depth. I talked with kijjohnson some about this in the past month or so, too. She was challenging the rather simple dichotomy I've set up. Am I simply saying that heart of flesh = good and heart of stone = bad? Well, true, I need to refine this further.

I think Austen was examining this quite closely in Sense and Sensibility, and the movie developed it further quite beautifully. Marianne initially made the mistake of believing that she could discern someone's heart by their outspokenness, their response to poetry, their immediate openness. What she eventually learned, to her sorrow, was she could not accurately judge Willoughby's character by his initially open manner. Like Marianne, he prided himself in speaking his mind without pretense (or bothering much about the feelings of others). He seemed to be all openness; he shared her passionate love of books and music. And yet (she discovered too late) that all that surface openness hid a heart of stone, a secret furtiveness, and a hard selfishness that made Willoughby, in the end, cruelly abandon her because doing so served his economic interest.

Marianne also made the mistake of dismissing Elinor as hardhearted, because she refrained from talking about her own feelings, not realizing that her reserve hid deep and painful hurt. I remember hearing an interview with Ang Lee, the director of the movie (made with Emma Thompson's excellent screenplay). At the point where Marianne walks through the Palmers' garden through the rain to go look upon Willoughby's property, there are two hedges on either side of the walk. "On one side of the path the hedges were damaged by frost," Lee said, "and so the gardeners sculpted them into these fantastic flowing shapes: that side represented Sensibility, The hedges on the other side were very formal traditional geometric shapes: cones, etc. Those represented Sense."

Elinor is a continual reminder that what may be initially taken as a heart of stone may be something more complex. I have often used this as a personal metaphor: when I say that I am feeling Elinor Dashwoodish, I am saying that there is more going on under the surface than I am willing to reveal at this time. I think that the heart of flesh must feel, but at the same time I realize that it is not always prudent to reveal all that is going on for all the world to see.

Severus Snape, of course, would have nothing but contempt for Marianne Dashwood, but would approve of Elinor. (I find the fact that Alan Rickman portrays both Severus Snape and Colonel Bradford, who eventually becomes Marianne's true lover, doubly and deliciously ironic.)

Marianne, of course, would be terrible at Occlumency. Elinor might actually be pretty good at it.

There are also times when it is the right thing to do to "harden one's heart." Parenting is the first arena that comes to mind. If I give in to my girls every time they cry, I would be a very bad parent indeed. Think of Vernon and Petunia Dursley: they might consider themselves tenderhearted because they have always given their son everything he has ever wished and they cannot bear to deny him anything. Dumbledore, however, chides them for this, noting that they have spoiled their son very badly indeed by doing so.

Sometimes resisting evil or wrongdoing requires hardening one's heart, as Elinor had to do in her interview with Willoughby.

I am only about one third of the way through Bleak House, as I've said, and do not have any idea of how things will turn out. So far, however, Lady Dedlock is reminding me quite a bit of Severus Snape: hints of ruthlessness and a secret past, combined with total inscrutability. I will be interested to see whether I am right.

Enough mulling over theme. This is absurd; I need to get to bed.

I want to make an icon by taking a picture of a plaque I received in my Christmas stocking today. However, LJ's icon factory, for some inexplicable reason, refused to work. I managed to make an icon of it with an outside icon maker, which I uploaded to my Greatest Journal account:



but LJ still refuses to upload it, saying that even though it is 100x`100, it is 56k, and they will only upload up icons that are 40k.

Can anyone help, perhaps with a program which will downsize it slightly so I can use it?

Thanks.

Edited to add: carnotite came through. Thanks, carnotite!

I love it. The words around the sides say Celebrate life
Give thanks
Light candles
Sail away
Take risks
Show mercy
Take walks
Share joy

The tree in the center, of course, represents the holy tree to me, and it has a heart hanging from the branch, which represents the heart of flesh. So this image of the holy tree is PERFECT for me, and reminds me of all the things I have been talking about in this journal. I am so happy to have this picture as an icon.

We went to see Akeela and the Bee last night. See the trailer here. I have been thinking about it today. Yes, I saw the predictable elements of it, but I really, really liked it. First of all, it's great to see a positive, family-friendly movie focusing on a young girl, and Keke Palmer is a charming, natural actress. Secondly, I realized as I thought about it today, it's really a heart of flesh/heart of stone movie, the kind of story I seek out above every other. ( Not quite spoilers here, but what I say may prompt a discussion that could lead to spoilers. )

After having a dozen odd short stories and two novels published, I almost accidentally pinpointed what my fiction is about when I sat down for the very first brainstorming session on my third novel, the ice palace novel I’m sorta kinda working on now. If you remember, I traced it back to the end essay of pameladean’s book Tam Lin, where she said that book was about choosing between heart of flesh and the heart of stone that the world wants to put in. As I’ve been thinking about it more ever since I wrote that entry, I’ve realized that the stories I’ve loved the most (the ones I’ve read as well as the ones I’ve written) have always been about that.

Yesterday, I pointed to an entry about an encounter at a coffeeshop, which magdalene1 suggested could be the birth of a new love. I haven’t read all the comments that entry generated, but Rob did, and he pointed out the parody that awatson did.

I couldn’t find a more elegant contrast between a heart of flesh and a heart of stone if I tried.

The very first short story I had published was a story about a young woman who works in a munitions factory goes to visit for a day her grandmother who lives in a deserted, bombed-out city. The grandmother at the end of the story gave the younger woman her two precious teacups, all that she had left of the bygone day before the war came. I realize now that right back there at the very beginning of my career, I was preoccupied with this same theme without even knowing it. Amy Thomas (author of Virtual Girl) reviewed it, and I imagine she has no idea how much her more or less approving assessment still stings a bit, even years later. She called it "schmaltzy, but moving."

That critique, of course, was in a way a put down, and I knew it. It stung because the world doesn’t value schmaltzy (Etymology: Yiddish shmalts, literally, rendered fat, from Middle High German smalz; akin to Old High German smelzan to melt -- 1 : sentimental or florid music or art 2 : SENTIMENTALITY). pameladean was absolutely right: the world doesn't value the heart of flesh, and always seeks to replace it with the heart of stone. Look at awatson’s last paragraph: I don't know the poster of the original, and I've got nothing against them. I'm glad they see the world the way they do, and honestly, I hope their version comes true. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't feel briefly warmed and uplifted by their account, but then my natural bitterness got the better of me.

magdalene1 saw the couple and viewed them one way: He’s tall, with brown hair and thick glasses with black frames. She’s short and curvy, with thick curly brown hair. awatson took the very same description and saw it with different eyes, with a jeering dismissive undertone: He's lanky, with slightly greasy brown hair and thick glasses with dated looking frames. She's short and fat, with frizzy brown hair. awatson is seeing them with the bitter glass that the demons hold that W.B. Yeats talks about in "The Two Trees." (See the essay at the end of that link).

Is the romantic love that magdalene1 thought she witnessed at that coffeeshop a myth? In the great conversation between Tolkien and Lewis that led to Lewis’s conversion to Christianity, Lewis said that the story of beautiful story of Christ dying to redeem the world was a myth, and myths were merely lies, though lies "breathed in silver."

No, they are not, Tolkien replied. They are truth.

Of course romantic love is a myth. But in that myth is a truth that can comfort you when you are alone and discover that you need not be alone because someone loves you. It can keep you warm at night, it can save your life from despair, though the world will always jeer and mock and predict that everything will end up horribly. We live in a cynical age, but I’m going to continue to resist that cynicism.

Let the world sneer. I’m going to continue trying to nurture my heart of flesh and resist the heart of stone.

Edited to add: Oh dear, oh dear. I see that I've set off somewhat of a comment kerfluffle. I've been thinking about this all day and marshalling my thoughts. I have to leave work now. Rather than replying to comments on this entry piecemeal, I'll do a new entry when I get home, and perhaps this time I'll explain myself a bit more clearly.

Still absorbing. I'm re-dipping into chapters, mulling. ( Spoilers ) See also cygnusfap's entry, which I applaud.

Peg

I am enjoying Nicholas Nickleby enormously and it suddenly occurs to me to realize why (belatedly. Duh, Peg) The theme of the heart of flesh/heart of stone is EXACTLY what Dickens is all about.

"But you were always a good man of business, Jacob," faltered Scrooge, who now began to apply this to himself.

"Business!" cried the Ghost, wringing its hands again. "Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and benevolence, were, all, my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!"

(See here)

and

"Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses?"

I must consider what Dickens thought led to the heart of stone. Certainly the pursuit of money could lead to a hardness of heart, but having money wasn't a necessary condition. There were the benevolent rich (Fezziwig, Scrooge after reformation) and there were those who were poor, even those who weren't scrabbling for money (like the Squeers) who were still venal (Bill Sykes, etc.)

How does this apply to a fantasy novel? One thing Pat Wrede told me to think about was, why fantasy? (She also warned me to consider why isn't magic available to everyone.) Why does my story about an ice palace have to include magic? Why can't the story of Solveig, Jack, Ingrid, Agnes and Mr. X be a mainstream novel, a Dickens novel, if you will? Well, if Mr. X is after SOMETHING that requires magic, which turns his heart to stone, what would that be? Is magic a better way to acquire money? Why isn't he satisfied with just acquiring it on the stock market? (Which some people regard as magic, after all, although not lately). Does he need magic because his goal is immortality, or at least long life? I don't have an answer for this yet, and this stuckedness, I think, is part of the reason I'm hesitating. I'm learning a lot about Mr. X, however, by reading about Ralph Nickleby and the Squeers. And I think I'm reading about Solveig and Jack by reading about Nicholas and Kate.

Off to think some more.

BTW: Can anyone think of a name for Mr. X? I find it irritating to think/write about a character if I don't have a name. It's as if we haven't been properly introduced. I might make his first name be Ralph, in honor (so to speak) of Ralph Nickleby (Maybe. Maybe not.) But the last? This will be set in Minnesota, so something Germanic/Nordic.

I don't promise to use any suggestions, but feel free to offer them.

Peg

I've been reading the essays in Jack Zipes' book Sticks and Stones: The Troublesome Success of Children's Literature from Slovenly Peter to Harry Potter which David Lenander kindly lent to me in preparation for the Harry Potter panel tomorrow (the last essay in the book is a critical look at the books; Zipes doesn't look upon them kindly). I wish I had time to finish the entire book, but I need to get it back to David tomorrow.

Also in preparation for the panel, I've been reviewing one of my favorite articles on the Harry Potter books, "Harry Potter's Magic" by Alan Jacobs. This was the article that sparked the train of thought that led to my writing the essays on the Harry Potter For Grownups Yahoo Group on the Seven Deadly Sins/Seven Heavenly Virtues as used in the Harry Potter books. ( One of Jacob's points jumped out at me as being worthy of thought as I mull over the new ice palace book )

Hmm. Perhaps all this musing is rather incoherent. If so, sorry. (Peg goes off to think some more).

I'll be meeting with Inga the architect tomorrow, too. I've been invited to her office and then we'll have lunch, and I'll fish for information. Wish me luck!

Peg

I have decided to write a novel.

I have written two novels, and both have been published. Since finishing The Wild Swans almost exactly four years ago (the afterward to that book was dated August 30, 1998), I started another book, a prequel to Emerald House Rising, which peetered out after about seventy pages of manuscript, and a novel collaboration with kijjohnson. That latter project is still a viable project, and it's well written and a lot of fun, but we have had to set it aside for the moment because Kij is finishing another book up under contract.

So, in the four years since finishing The Wild Swans, I have finished one short story. I have not managed to sell it.

I have been writhing and agonizing about this for some time. Today, abruptly, as a result of various conversations and threads of thought, I have decided to start again. Like Mr. Earbrass, who sets the date that he begins his next novel (for him, it is November 18 of alternate years) I am setting the date that I am beginning my new novel, and it is today.

I have set my goal for the first week: brainstorm. So I lit my writing candle for one hour (while the candle is lit, I am not allowed to answer the phone or go on the Internet, or do any other avoidance behavior) and brainstormed, writing down anything and everything that interests me. I also identified various stories that I have been moved by in the past, and tried to pinpoint what I liked about them.

I do not have to dream up my whole novel in one hour. After my first hour of brainstorming I have, however, decided one thing about my new novel: it will be about a character who, in the words of Pamela Dean in her afterward to Tam Lin must choose between a heart of flesh and a heart of stone. The novel will be devoted to what leads the character to making that choice.

Well! We have that settled. We'll see what comes out of tomorrow's brainstorming session.

I don't know how this will work with my LiveJournal. I will continue to be public about the process, as long as it works for me, but if talking about the process keeps me from DOING it, I won't. We'll see how it goes. I don't intend to post any of the actual fiction in progress here, however, but will instead run it past the faithful beta readers who helped my on my last books.

Cheers,
Peg