Date: Mon, 1 Jan 2001 18:17:07 +0000 From: Angela Barclay Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG: Nights at the Circus To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@LISTSERV.UIC.EDU I hope you all had a good time with family and friends and the time to devour a book or two- including Angela Carter's _Nights at the Circus_ which is up for discussion this month. I discovered Angela Carter's _Heroes and Villains_ in a used bookstore a year and a half ago and became enthralled with her work, even though it doesn't neatly fit into the science fiction/fantasy category I almost inevitably gravitate towards. When I started collecting her books, I discovered she isn't well known here in Western Canada- nearly every used and independent bookstore owner and clerk I talked to had never heard of her. While Carter may be largely unknown this side of the globe, her reputation in Europe is firmly established. She started writing in the sixties and experienced early success winning the John Llewellyn Rhys prize with her second novel, _The Magic Toyshop_ and the Somerset Maugham Award for her third, _Several Perceptions_. She also wrote short stories, essays, radio plays and screenplays in addition to her full length fictions. She contributed to _New Society_, edited a collection of short stories for Virago in 1986 called _Wayward Girls and Wicked Women_, and was a popular book reviewer. She was also in demand as a creative writing instructor in the U.S. and Australia. She gave birth to a son in 1983 and apparently relished the role of mother. It is not surprising that after pumping out five novels in the sixties and two in the seventies, _Nights at the Circus_ was the sole extended piece of fiction of the 1980s for this very busy woman. It was the most acclaimed of her novels and while it won the James Tait Black Memorial Prize many critics expressed surprise that it was not shortlisted for that year's Booker Prize. In an interview with Ian McEwan, Carter indicated it took her ten years to write because "I had to wait until I was big enough, strong enough, to write about a winged woman". She therefore identified _Nights_ as a work born out of confidence- which in all its possible meanings is a byword, a theme, a sub-text in the work. In another interview with Helen Cagney Watts, Carter revealed that Fevvers originated out of the writing of _The Sadeian Woman_ (1979). The Marquis de Sade, one of the great guerrillas of the Age of Enlightenment and one of Carter's favorite sources because of his radical irony, chose heroines and not heroes; figures hitherto not imagined who will rise out of mankind and will have wings and will renew the world. Fevvers as the New Woman of the twentieth century declares, "once the old world has turned on its axle that the new dawn can dawn, then, ah then! all the women will have wings, the same as I (_Nights_, 285)." Perhaps this is why some critics such as Andrzej Gasiorek describe the novel as exuberantly utopian, as one which "rewrites history as utopia, envisaging the closing of the last century as the opening of a brave new feminist world". Sarah Gamble (whose book _Angela Carter: Writing from the Frontline_ I used as a resource to write this discussion kick-off) questions this interpretation. Gamble claims Carter's on-going recognition of the relationship between predator and prey, the precarious relations between the circus animals and their so- called trainers, mars that utopianism. And, the biggest challenge to the text's optimism, claims Gamble, is posed by the cruel and destructive humor of the circus clowns, the penultimate performers who end up mad or disappeared. I personally think the description of the book as "exuberantly utopian" is questionable because whereas it features many examples of effective solidarity between women and a fascinating female supporting caste, the male characters are all basically buffoons or worse: opportunists, wife beaters, rapists or murderers. Even Walser, who helps Fevvers understand that love is not something one enters into for what one gets out of it, and who accepts her for who she is, sans all of her peroxide, dye and face-paint, seems rather a wimp whose life is out of control and who perpetually needs to be rescued. Despite these criticisms, I loved the book. I like how the story teeters back and forth between fantasy and reality, constantly "messing with your mind". I like how the novel itself was like the Grand Duke's gallery of exquisite eggs- many masterful (and macabre!) little tales within a tale. Looking forward to reading what you thought about the book, Angela ========================================================================= Date: Wed, 3 Jan 2001 23:12:50 EST From: Christine Ethier Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] Nights at the Circus To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@LISTSERV.UIC.EDU What really strikes me about this book is the use of appearance versus reality, or the idea of the "package" versus reality. Take for instance Fevvers. What the reader is confronted with is the question of whether or not she is truly winged. Because the reader is told that this is the main debate surrounding her, the reader almost readily accept her story of her life. And yet it is the story of her life that becomes the illusion, part of her "package", the one that she presents to her audience. Of course, at the end of the book, the question remains, how much of her life story do you believe? But it is also true of the majority of other characters in the book. The Strong Man, the chimps, Mignon (misspelled sorry), and others. The tigers also represent it when they merge with the glass at the train accident. The book seems to be constantly challenging the perceptions of the reader. It what makes the end of the book funny. On a more personal note, Nights at the Circus was one of the first Carter books I ever read. I "discovered" Carter while in high school. One of the volumes of Ellen Datlow and Terry Windling's Year's Best Fantasy and Horror recommended Carter's The Bloody Chamber. I figured that since I liked the stories in the anthology that they edited, I might as well try a book that recommended. I'm glad I did. Christine Ethier ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 8 Jan 2001 19:47:52 +0000 From: Angela Barclay Subject: [*FSF-L*] on trying to pin down Carter To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@LISTSERV.UIC.EDU Michelle Taylor wrote: >Of all of Carter's works, I think Passion of New Eve certainly comes closest >to being 'Sci Fi', though I wondered at the time if she was in fact >parodying certain aspects of Fem Sci Fi (in the nicest possible way!) In >particular, the moments when Evelyn is turned into Eve, and Eve's >relationship with Tristessa (a woman-man and a man-woman who both look like >women, but are in fact, both men). I am not sure I would class any of >Carter's other work as Sci-Fi, though the part about the prison for women >who had murdered their husbands in Nights at The Circus seemed slightly Sci Fi. It is said that while she made free use of the tropes deriving from science fiction, was guest of honor at SF conventions and taught writing to a number of later influential figures in the SF world, Angela Carter was at no time a "science fiction writer". I haven't read _The Passion of New Eve_ (1977) but I thoroughly enjoyed _Heroes and Villains_ (1969) and would place it on the science fiction shelves, as opposed to the "adventure" or "magical romance" section as is suggested on the book jacket. As our recent conversations about the distinctions between fantasy and science fiction and magic realism point out, however, perhaps Angela Carter's work is best considered a pastiche of motifs from many genre. _Heroes and Villains_: In this surreal, postmodernist literary commentary on the cold war era, a post-apocalyptic society is divided into endlessly warring factions. At the top of the pecking order are the Professors who cling to the knowledge of the past, then come the Soldiers who heartlessly maintain what is left of civilization, next is a very colorful and superstitious band of barbarians, and last the deformed and diseased Out People, who struggle to survive in a netherworld of incinerated cities. The plot revolves around the violently passionate union of a professor's daughter and a beautiful barbarian boy. In the course of the story the protagonist discovers her own capacity for barbarism and learns to rule by wit rather than inheritance or marriage. At the same time I would recommend _Heroes and Villains_ (and point out that it was similar to John Wyndham's The Chrysalids) I would caution listmembers that the book has been criticized for its violent sexuality and that some have gone as far as to call it a rape fantasy. Others have suggested that the rapist , like so many other male characters in Carter's work is a creature of the Id, and since the woman triumphs over him, this is a power fantasy and not a rape fantasy. Angela, who is glad to be talking with some other Carter fans ========================================================================= Date: Sat, 20 Jan 2001 17:01:47 -0800 From: Margaret McBride Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG:Nights at the Circus To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@LISTSERV.UIC.EDU not much comment on Nights at the Circus--maybe like me, you haven't finished reading it. I decided I would write something because most months I have good intentions but don't get around to commenting. I am enjoying the book for certain aspects although I don't think it's one I would have read if I had just skimmed the first few pages first. The content and more fantasy-based material are not my interests generally. So far it's missing that ineffable something I appreciate the most in fiction--thought-provoking reflections on how we humans shape ourselves and our culture. The book has a reserved feel so I never forget I'm reading a wrought fiction--maybe part of the point of view aspects we discussed last month. I do respect how she is suggesting a Victorian time frame. Way back in college I read a nonfiction book on the Victorian era based on newspapers and government documents. The "nicey-nicey" prudish, "put pantaloons on piano legs and say white meat because we can't say breast in public" view of Victorian England is quite inaccurate. According to the book, that time period had more prostitutes than any other time in England; slum, santitation, disease problems etc. were dreadful. I think Carter conveys those aspects quite well. What I'm really liking is the writing style. The 2nd section in Petersburg that begins with the description of the old woman working the bellows as if she is alternately praying (Mary) and remembering the endless work she has to do (Martha) I found extremely well done and intriguing. I think it will be one of those memorable images from fiction that will stick with me even though other aspects of the book don't (like the woman who is genetically obsessed and follows the wood grains on the floor in one of Card's later Ender books). That section on the bellows is followed by the reporter's lyric description of Petersburg which I also quite enjoyed. The little note about the woman's murderess daughter is then picked up again in the section on the women's prison where the guards and the prisoners fall "in love" and escape together. In terms of style the 3rd section is also interesting because of the changes in voice. We get first person direct-to-the-reader comments from Fevvers (which is quite different than the voice when she was telling her life story to the journalist in the first section) mixed in with author comments. I find it intriguing and it certainly makes me stop and notice the writing effects more than in many books. I'm also appreciating the astute comments on class and wealth scattered throughout--particularly on how women's lives are affected by their status. So I have no direct questions, but perhaps this will get some comment. I don't think this book will go on my read-again list but I thank the list for getting me to read something I probably wouldn't have (even though I had appreciated other Carter pieces in the past). ========================================================================= Date: Mon, 22 Jan 2001 23:04:20 -0500 From: "Janice E. Dawley" Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG: Nights at the Circus To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@LISTSERV.UIC.EDU Like you, Margaret, I have been quite behind in reading this month's BDG selection -- I just finished it today. I guess it took me so long to finish because the narrative didn't have an overall arc that pulled me along. It did have what I think of as "riffs" that absorbed me in spurts, and it made me chuckle aloud more than once. (Particularly when the clowns were involved, its farcical humor reminded me of *A Confederacy of Dunces*). But I had a hard time investing myself in the fates of Fevvers or Walser. Maybe the structure was too unbalanced, the initial section in London overwhelmingly mannered and compressed in time compared to the Petersburg and Siberia sections. Maybe the book had too much the aura of a romp on the part of the author. Maybe the postmodern touches were too obtrusive. I don't know. Like Angela, I don't think the book can accurately be called utopian. In fact, I wonder how Gasiorek supported that argument. So much that happens in the novel is ugly and depressing. Towards the end there are hopeful signs, at least for a few: the murderesses escape to their self-described Utopia; Mignon and the Princess settle down at the Conservatory. And Fevvers and Walser are at last reunited. But I am troubled by the end of the book. I'm not sure exactly what Fevvers means when she exclaims "To think I fooled you!" I don't think she means that her wings are a colossal fake. Is she referring to the "intacta" part of the statement? (i.e. she's not a virgin) Or is she talking about some more general ruse? In any case, the fact that she is so happy about having fooled Walser doesn't make me feel good about their relationship. The lead in to this scene, in which Fevvers regains her confidence as she impresses her audience, reminds me of a line in Virginia Woolf's *A Room of One's Own*: "Women have served all these centuries as looking-glasses possessing the magic and delicious power of reflecting the figure of man at twice its natural size." What kind of new woman is Fevvers if she needs such a looking glass to feel whole? ----- Janice E. Dawley.....Burlington, VT Feminist SF Posting Archive at: http://homepages.together.net/~jdawley/femsf-index.htm Listening to: Badly Drawn Boy -- The Hour of Bewilderbeast "...the public and the private worlds are inseparably connected; the tyrannies and servilities of the one are the tyrannies and servilities of the other." Virginia Woolf, Three Guineas ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 1 Feb 2001 01:09:31 -0800 From: Joyce Jones Subject: [*FSF-L*] BDG Nights at the Circus To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@LISTSERV.UIC.EDU OK, this is very late, but what a hard book. It took me almost the whole month to read less than 300 pages. If it weren't for the book club I certainly wouldn't have finished, and now I wish more did because it's certainly a book worth discussing. Is it a book about the nature of good versus evil with the Colonel playing the role of the devil? "The Escapee, who believed in man's inborn innocence and innate goodwill, had no defenses whatsoever against the Colonel because, of course, the Colonel believed in both those self-same things, although the Colonel had quite a different angle on them." I just finished reading _Mutant Message from Forever_ in which the Australian aborigines are depicted as the least violent people in touch with nature, able to communicate telepathically. They should be the highest, most respected culture on earth, if it weren't for people like the Colonel who take good and innocence and use it to exploit those good people for their own advantage. So do the good and innocent people invent religion to allow themselves to continue to be moral in spite of the power of the Colonels of the world by creating a higher force that rewards their goodness and punishes the Colonels'? Is this a feminist or an anti-feminist book? Fevvers, in spite of her attraction to the journalist is horrified at the idea of marrying him. "'But it is not possible that I should give myself,' said Fevvers. Her diction was exceedingly precise. 'My being, my me-ness, is unique and indivisible. To sell the use of myself for the enjoyment of another is one thing; I might even offer freely, out of gratitude or in the expectation of pleasure -- and pleasure alone is my expectation from the young American. But the essence of myself may not be given or taken, or what would there be left of me?' 'Besides,' added Fevvers urgently, 'here we are far away from churches and priests, who'll speak of marriage --' 'Oh, I daresay you'll find these woodsmen amongst whom your young man has found refuge uphold the institution of marriage as enthusiastically as other men do, although they may celebrate it differently. The harder the bargain men must strike with nature to survive, the more rules they're likely to have amongst themselves to keep them all in order. They'll have churches, here; and vicars, too, even if the vicars have weird cassocks and perform outrageous sacraments.'" So Fevvers says she'll steal him away and mould him, make "'a new man of him. I'll make him into the New Man, in fact, fitting mate for the New Woman, and onward we'll march hand in hand into the New Century --'" So what happens? She finds him and grows beautiful. She cooks for him, pampers him, and laughs and laughs a laugh heard around the world. Was the laugh because she really couldn't literally fly or because she realized she didn't want to fly, didn't want to be the fiercely independent woman she had pretended to be? Was the joke that she just wanted to be a wife? This book just begged for more controversy, but its style (never use a 25 cent word when a $25 one would suffice) I think pushed many of us away. Joyce ========================================================================= Date: Thu, 1 Feb 2001 09:47:21 -0500 From: Rose Reith Subject: Re: [*FSF-L*] BDG Nights at the Circus To: FEMINISTSF-LIT@LISTSERV.UIC.EDU I am glad you wrote in even though it took a while for you to read the book. I found it hard to get into, and only finished it a little over a week ago, just before the other list got soooo busy. I really didn't enjoy the book until I finally got to the part in Petersburg, Russia, where they really were at the circus. I found the part about the monkey's classroom to be really interesting, and I suppose it was supposed to be a statement about humanity also. It just seemed as if things livened up at that point. Then the rest of the book moved fairly quickly. I think I have difficulties with what must be magical realism - I was puzzled by and had to read over several times the part where Fevvers is alone with the grand duke, seemingly in mortal danger, only to suddenly have the train from his collection become the train she needed to catch to move on to their next planned stop. I guess it reminds me of the part at the end of the movie, _ Men In Black_ where the marble is our universe in a game of marbles played by other beings. Microcosms and Macrocosms. I don't know - it was weird and I had to reread it several times before I was able to continue reading. I think your idea of the Colonel as the devil is really interesting. I hadn't seen it that way at all, but then I didn't really give him much thought either. I guess if I had to think something specifically about the colonel it would be that he suffered from hubris. Actually though, I think you are closer to the truth - in a way he is like one of those preachers who purport to perform healings etc. when in actuality they are dishonest and only want to separate the gullible from their assets, which is not too far a cry from the work of the devil. The colonel ( like the devil ?) takes advantage of anyone who will let him. I do think the novel was feminist or at least had distinctly feminist elements, some of which you pointed out by mentioning Fevvers' feelings about giving herself to anyone, and Lizzie's comments regarding men's ideas on marriage. Also the whole section in which the Countess's prisoners work up to their escape - the writing in blood etc. reminds me of the views of feminist literary criticism - and that Olga Alexandrovna drew a heart on her cell wall in the same substance, after she answered the note from her warden. A heart is like a circle - continuous, with an open center... And then the whole romance / soul connection between Mignon and the Princess. One thing that puzzled me though was that there was a place where Carter makes a mistake - she says that Lizzie loses her pocketbook in the train wreck, and thus with the loss of that and their magical clock she is rendered unable to manipulate their circumstances to their benefit. "'Prepare yourself for the worst, gel; we've lost the bloody clock haven't we. Burnt to a crisp in the wreck most likely. First your sword, now my clock. We'll soon lose all track of time, and then what will become of us. Nelson's clock. Gone. And that's not all. My handbag. That's gone too.' This was a disaster so great I scarcely dare think of the distress it would cause us." Then, just 2 pages later, Carter writes " ...the clowns grew restive and were all for getting the fire-boy to open the door and shove her out in the snow but Lizzie found a pack of cards in her handbag and they settled down resentfully but quietly, while the Princess's passion wore itself out..." And then later when they are at the Conservatory and they are concerned about Fevvers roots showing and her feathers turning brown, they again bemoan the loss of Lizzie's handbag in the train wreck, "Lizzie's handbag might have contained peroxide to assist with the one growth and, perhaps a bottle of red ink to aid in the other - elementary household magic! - but the handbag was gone, irretrievably lost in the wreck of the train" As for the ending - that she fooled him and her infectious laughter - I confess I didn't get it. I imagine that that has something to do with the magical realism. - or perhaps just that I am obtuse, but I don't think that it is supposed to be that she sacrifices her self to become the perfect little wife, because a great deal is made of how he has been changed by his experiences in Petersburg, and in the Transbaikal. He is not the same Walser who was just going to send stories back to his American readership. As I was just rereading it I found myself thinking that it - the whole section from Petersburg to the end - was all a set-up created by Lizzie and Fevvers to convert him into the kind of man she wanted him to be. I can't really explain it, but it's just a feeling I got from the story - especially considering how much happened - how much hair growing, feather moulting, saving and love, found and lost etc... in what was really only about one week's worth of time. Rose Reith -- Information is not knowledge. ~Caleb Carr, KILLING TIME