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Wednesday, November 16, 2016 - 06:30
When I was double-checking something against the printed version of the text, I discovered that the computer file I'm working from didn't have the diary entries for January 1864, only the two letters. So here are the diary entries. (In the published version, the letters and diary entries are interleaved by date.) A more systematic look suggests that this glitch covers the first half of 1864 (the contents of a specific journal) but not later periods (when the "memorandums" were on loose sheets, sent home included in letters). I suspect that I may have gotten a not-entirely-up-to-date version of the one file.
Turning my mother's computer files into something I could use was quite a frightening chore. She was working in some sort of non-standard word processor and it was tricky to turn the text into rtf to export. My mother was a wonderful woman but she had some odd quirks around working with computers. The files for this project include manual hyphenation. (We had, at some point, convinced her that word-wrap could be relied on and it wasn't necessary to hit "return" at the end of each line.) There was a previous project -- I forget which one -- where, after printing out her hard-copy masters to take to the print shop, she deleted the computer files because she didn't need them any more. Unfortunately it means I'll need to double check all the files against the print copy, but OCR has taken care of the bulk of the missing material I've identified so far.
One of the things I love about reading through Abiel's documents is the minute detail of everyday life, without being drowned in irreleancies. Without him ever saying so, it's clear that he's conscientious and reliable in his duties and is gradually being loaded with increasing responsibility. At this time he's well away from the fighting, but that won't last. His primay duties at "Convalescent Camp" are arranging for transport of all manner of groups of men and escorting them to their goals, as well as various clerical duties.
Abiel's not a plaster saint: he writes about drinking and smoking and gambling (though he feels guilty about the last) and about having a glimpse of women's legs when the wind blew their hoopskirts about. He's 22 years old now, 3 years into his enlistment. He writes with equal enthusiasm about training horses and crops back home, about the complex economy of micro-loans that his pay goes into, about getting a day's leave to go into Washington to see plays and concerts and listen to congressional debates, about his thoughts on reading works like Josephus's The Jewish Wars, borrowed from the library. He writes home hungry for news, to semi-flirt with a woman named Janey, and to beg for a "care package" of food luxuries like butter and honey and home-baked pies. He is clear in his own mind why his is fighting: "Traitors have attacked our free institutions...God cannot be angry with us when we fight in such a sacred cause" and specifies the cause as "Freedom versus Slavery."
So here are Abiel's observations on January 1864. As noted previously, I have done some light editing to this version for readability but the original verbatim text can be found here. I've also decided to add a couple of content warnings immediately before certain entries. Nothing really gut-punching at this point, but mild anti-Semitism and use of terms for black people that fall more in the wince-worthy range than offensive. (But I'm probably not the right person to calibrate them.) Accustomed as I am to reading historic texts, I may not always catch things to flag, but I'll try.
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[Diary entries from January 1, 1864 to June 4, 1864 are contained in a leather-bound notebook entitled "Memoirs of A. T. LaForge".]
DIARY
New Years day 1864
Day opened very unpropitiously, a disagreable drizzling rain setting in before sunrise promised anything but a "Happy New Year." However it turned out to be a very fine day, for it cleared up about 10 A.M. and the rest of the day was a fine sunshiney one. In the afternoon, the wind commenced blowing from the north. By sundown it was freezing very fast. I got Henry Graves examined for a furlough of twenty days. He had a letter from his wife saying she was sick with the diptheria, which has proved very fatal in Allegany Co. for several years. I took dinner at the Hospital. We had oysters stewed and raw and all felt happy enough to enjoy them. 'Pumpkin pie' for dessert went well. Everything was so quiet in camp it seemed like Sunday. The President gave a Levee to day. Colonel McKelvy and staff went over to it. I spent most of the afternoon at the medical Head Quarters playing "Seven up." I shall go to bed early, as I sat up late last night to see New Years in, and for several other reasons I feel rather sleepy.
January 2nd 1864
Day very cold, wind North. Ground frozen. Very busy making up and fileing last years papers.
Sunday January 3rd 1864
Day cold & clear. In reading over my last year's memorandum I found some one who had no business to had been doing the same. I felt very angry. Asked Sergeant Beaugureau if it was him, [and] was sorry for doing so at once for he is the "soul of honor." Sent in with the Orderly Henry Graves furlough for approved by Col McKelvy for 15 days.
January 4th 1864
Day commenced snowing about 10 O.C., has snowed ever since. About four inches deep to night, the first snow of any account this season. Sometime in November there was a slight fal--not enough to see on the ground, but enough to win me a bottle of Champagne which I had bet with a Frenchman named Adolph Otto.
Tuesday 5th
Day cold- Graves got his furlough today it was only approved in Washington for 10 days. I told him when he started that if his wife was very bad I did not think the Colonel would say anything if he stayed two or three days more than his time.
Jany 6"
Day cold. The 3 & 4" Regiments of Pennsylvania Reserves, which have been doing our guard duty for a long time, were orderded to break up camp and be ready to take the cars for Harpers Ferry at an hour's notice. They did so and have waited all day for orders to move which, as they did not come, about an hour ago Colonel McKelvy ordered them to be marched over to be put in our barracks for tonight. We have organised a convalescent guard to take their place temporarily.
Wednesday 6th
Still cold, snow not yet melted.
An order came for the "Reserves" to march about 1 1/2 A.M. I got up and took the order over to Colonel Woolworth, who stayed in his own quarters all night. They had to march to the Soldiers' Rest Washington and take the cars there. After I got them off, I went to bed again. I had an order made out this P.M. to take another squad North, but when I came to investigate the matter I found that they had been already sent.
Thursday January 7th 1864
Day warm enough to thaw a very little. Lieutenant Stewart was relieved of the command of Camp Distribution by an order of the Secretary of War, to be court martialed for abusing a prisoner last fall when he (Lieutenant) was drunk. If the truth is proved, I think the Lieutenant will be dismissed [from] the service. Snowing a little to night.
Friday 8th
Day thawed a very little. What fun the boys have riding down hill. The uper part of the camp makes a very good place for that kind of sport. The men get barrel staves or boards, logs of wood, in fact any thing that will slip, to ride on and fine sport they have. We had sausages and toast bread as a kind of treat at ten O.C. tonight. Congress is debating wheather they will extend the time for reenlisting in the Veteran Corps. All men in the 3 year regiments who have less than one year to serve get $402 for again enlisting for three years. It is a great inducement to many and they avail themselves of it accordingly.
January 9th 1864
Day cold, snow still on the ground. I wrote a letter to William Hibbard who used to be on duty as Orderly at the office. I have been at work on the Commisary returns of the month of December / 63. I have had this to do for the last four months. After the papers are made out at the Commisary Office they are sent to this office to be approved by Colonel McKelvy, and before he will sign them he requires them to be reexamined. This I do.
Sunday 10th
Day warm enough to thaw a little. Good sleighing yet. My orders are made out to take some men to Annapolis Maryland. Sergeant Beaugureau and myself took a walk this afternoon. We had considerable fun snow-balling. It is the first sport of that kind I have indulged in in two years. Received a letter from Sally Ann Potter. All well. She is afraid little Charly will be lame all his life. I think she does, from the tone of her letter. I finished reading Gil Blas this evening. It is written by "Le Sage," author of "Le diable boiteux." The book undoubtedly contains a great deal of philosophy and wit, but one has to read much in order to get it for it is a large book, Sergt B- [presumably Beaugureau who is mentioned frequently] who has read it in French says it loses a great deal by translation, as it is full of idioms which it is impossisble to translate.
[Content warning: use of the word "darky" in the next entry.]
Washington Monday January 11th 1864
Day very cold. Do not think it thawed any. I started with fourteen paroled prisoners about 10 A.M. Marched over to Washington. Very hard walking it is, so slippery. I was delayed in getting my transportation untill 3 O.C. P.M. The last train that would connect with the cars to go to Annapolis had then left, so I have to stay here in the Soldiers' Rest with my men tonight. It is very cold. I will sleep with two of the men on the floor near the stove. Said stove is red hot and a darkey comes in every little while with a wheel barrow of coals to fill it and the other six stoves in this barrack.
Convalescent Camp Tuesday 12th
Day thawed a very little sleighing still. Got out of the city. The "Oldest inhabitant" says that such another long cold spell has not been experienced in this part of the country for many years. The Potomac is completely frozen up. The Chesapeake is frozen enough to stop navigation almost. I slept very badly last night. Was up by four this A.M. Started for A[nnapolis] at 6 1/2, got to camp Parole at 10'. My orders had been retained at Department Head Quarters and I had no orders to show why I brought the men down. I made a written statement of the facts, which was accepted. As no train came back to W[ashington] until 2 1/2 P.M. I went down to Annapolis about two miles from Camp P[arole]. A[nnapolis] is a small, very old-looking town of 5000 people. It is the capitol of Maryland, situated on an inlet of the Chesapeake. The only celebrities of the place are the U.S. Naval Academy and the State house. The latter is an old Colonial building, square and built of brick. From the center rises the tower to a height of 60 or 70 ft. This part of the structure is of wood and in such an unfinished inside, with scraps of boards thrown around among the timbers, which cross & recross each other in all shapes. I wonder it does not get on fire, for the slightest spark would set it going like a basket of kindlings. I returned to W[ashington] this P.M., getting there after dark. But I went in the Rest and got supper, after which I felt so well I concluded to walk out to camp. Just cold enough to make a brisk walk nice. So here I am at home.
Received a letter from Sherm Crandall. He is still at Alfred Center at school boards at the Hall. Old uncle Haggard is dead.
January 13th 1864
Day quite warm. Snow nearly all gone. Very muddy. General Hentzelman has been assigned to the command of the Department of the North: Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Michigan, and as Colonel McKelvy is one of his staff, I suppose he will have to go with the General. He has gone to town today to see about it. I wrote a letter to father and one to sister this evening. I shall slepp in Head Quarters while B. is away.
[Note: the letter posted in last week's entry comes here. There is a fair amount of duplication of content--even of entire passages--between the diary and the letters.]
January 16th 1864
Day quite warm.
Cololel McKelvy does not go out west now. The General will send for him if he wants him. Oscar Remington and me have made up our minds to send up to our friends for a box of good things. Mr Jno. B. Gough, the great temperance lecturer spoke here this afternoon at the Christian Commission Chapel. He is a splendid speaker--loves to illustrate his points by funny stories. Would change his audience from crying to laughing and from laughing to crying in a single minute. Makes them laugh much more than cry however. Colonel thought it an excellent temperance lecture; went and took a drink as soon as it was over.
[Note: The lecturer is presumably John Bartholomew Gough.]
Sunday January 17th 1864
Day warm and muddy.
Took a walk with Oscar this afternoon. Pretty muddy walking. Went down to Mrs Smiths and ate a mince pie this evening. Very bad pie. It makes me feel so bad that I shall send to my sister for a box with some better ones in it. Charles Jordon is back again.
Monday 18th
Day rained all day. Very muddy. No entry to make. Swain our principal Clerk was drunk all day. Captain Crawford relieved him tonight. He feels very bad [and] will make application to be reinstated in the morning, and I believe if he gives Captain Crawford his word of honor he will not get that way again, he will be placed in his old position.
Tuesday 19th
Day warm. A.M. Cold. Wind from the N' P.M. Was freezing at Sundown. Two large omnibus loads of ladies and five gentlemen came out from Willards this P.M. We could not get them all in Head Quarters. If they had not had hoops, we could. I was up on the hill while they were and saw the wind make some rather bold lifts of their skirts. They were all homely women and so the sight was not ravishing. [Note: in a different entry, I suggested that Abiel was using "homely" in the sense of "comfortable, home-like", but here he clearly means "plain looking".]
Wednesday January 20th 1864
Day clear and cold. Not enough to freeze until sundown. The Court Martial has been in progress for several days. I am reading the "Wars of the Jews" by "Josephus," an interesting history. Shall give my views on it when I get through.
Thursday 21st
Day clear and quite warm. There is a board here examining men for the Invalid Corps. When they are organised, they are to be put on duty as guards of this camp. They seem to work slowly, as no organising them into companies has been done yet.
Friday 22nd
Day clear and warm.
I went over to town with Sergeant Edmonds, a Mass man. [Note: I'm assuming this means Massachussetts] I only had 60 cents but he had two or three dollars, so we had a good time. We went first to see Professor Stinson of the Smithsonion Institute. Then went to a hotel opposite Willards and had dinner. Made a brief visit to the Patent office, then went up to the Capitol. Sat down in the House of Representatives a while and listened to the debates. Came back, got our supper, and Edmonds went and saw a member of congress while I went up to the Provosts and got our pass countersigned, good for all hours. For it makes no difference who a pass is given by, unless it approved by the Provost. As soon as it is dark, a man will be taken up and put in the Guard House. The patrol goes into every theater and other places of amusement and take out all men not having passes so approved. We had a game of billiards, then went to Ford's [Theater] and saw the "Ticket of Seave Man" played. [I suspect this may be a mistranscription. Wikipedia lists a play "The Ticket-of-Leave man" that debuted in 1863.] Miss C[blank space] was the principle actress and M. [blank space] the actor. Walked over to camp after the thing was played. It is now 2 O.C. A.M. of the 23rd. We have just got here and I am pretty tired, but of course must write up my "mem's" before going to bed. I liked the play pretty well for it was a good redition of character.
January 23rd Saturday.
Day clear and warm.
General Cawforth, Pennsylvania Militia, and two members of the Pennsylvania legislature were out here to day. The General was so drunk he he could hardly stand. I believe I must give a little history of Sergeant H. W. Edmonds. He is a native of Cambridge, father died while he was young, mother over-indulgent. Consequently he is rather wild. Went on a trip round the world when about 15, got married while waiting a short time in San Francisco to a Miss Warren. Led his wife to believe he was going to Sacramento when he left for China. The boat she thinks thought he [was] on for the former place was sunk, and he thinks she believes him dead. Has not heard from her since he left San [Francisco]. He is in love with a Miss [blank space]. He says she is the belle of Cambridge. He is now not quite 20. Was wounded at [blank space] and was reduced to the ranks since he was here by a regimental order. He is a good fellow for sport, naturally rather vain.
Sunday 24th
Day clear and warm.
Sergeant Beaugureau returned today. This is the twelfth day since he started. I took a walk with Oscar R-- today. Received a letter from Sml [his father Samuel LaForge] today. He is well. Was drafted, but was exempted. It cost him $30. He will try to break up ten acres in the spring.
Tuesday January 26th 1864
Got up early this morning to take a squad of men belonging the 2nd and 12th Regts N.W. Volunteers down to Alexandria to be sent to Point Lookout where those regiments are stationed. Owing to the sloth of the Chief Clerk of the 3rd Division Eastern troops, I did not get off early enough to get to the boat, which left at 9 A.M. So I took the men up to the Soldiers' Rest. This a a splendidly kept place, much better than the one in Washington or Baltimore. Here they had to stay until day after tomorrow when the boat goes down again. I returned across the hill. The wind was blowing very hard. It was very difficult to keep one's hat on, and if the Ambulance curtains had been down I believe we should have upset. I always have an ambulance when I go on such a trip as that. The driver was unacquainted with the country--the roads crossed themselves in all directions--but I told him which way to drive, for he was lost entirely. It has been a beautiful day, notwithstanding the heavy wind. The sun shone out bright and clear and warm. I thought it would be cold tonight, but it is not.
January 28th 1864 Thursday
Day clear and warm, so warm as to make one perspire while walking. I received a letter from Sister and one from Janey today. All well. They have not received my letter sending for a box yet. I say they were all well, but they were not. Mother and Joseph have bad colds. Frank Bassett is in camp. He came today. Oscar Remington brought him down to see me. He looks just as he did 3 years ago. Colonel McKelvy made me give Miss Thayer my address. She is the assistant State Agent from our State. He also said to Dr. Hunt, our Surgeon in charge, that we must make that application to get a commission for La Forge. I dont know but he is going to try to get me promoted.
Friday 29th
Day warm and clear. We have now had one week of most beautiful weather: clear and warm, dry and pleasant. I suppose it is to pay for the weeks of cold weather previous. The name of our camp is changed by a General Order from the Adjutants Generals to the Rendezvous of Destribution. Camp Distribution is to be broken up.
Saturday January 30th 1864
Warm but rainy. Camp Distribution is to be merged into this camp. No more men are to be sent to this camp but such as are fit for duty in the field. The men will be arranged in corps, instead of states, so that when a corps is called for they will all be togather. No more discharging will be done here, but at our Hospital, which is to be changed into a General Hosptal. And of course will be entirely independent of this command, so quite a change is taking place. Pay Master was not here as expected.
[Content Warning: mild anti-Semitism in the next entry]
Sunday 31st
Warm but cloudy and disagreable.
I answered father's last letter and will answer my sister's tonight and also Janey's. I played 6 games of draughts today with Sergeant Edmonds, of whom I spoke on page 12. I feel very much ashamed of it and will not do so again, for I have several times spoken to other boys about it. [Note: I am guessing that Abiel is feeling qualms about gambling. As his years in the army pass, he sheds his "vices" one by one.] I have had Frank Basset detailed as clerk at the Invalid Corps Examining Board. It is a good position. I guess he will like it. I finished Josephus and returned it to the library today. I think his style rather dry, but the antiquity of the work makes it invaluable. What I principly wondered at was how it was possible for the Jewish nation to lose so many people at that early period and yet so many remain. The 2nd Book, I believe it is, of the "Wars of the Jews", gives the numbers slain in domestic and foreign wars as over 150,000. I set down the separate items, and at the end of the book footed it up, and the amount was as I have stated. It looks like a curse of God that they were divided aganst themselves and in domestic trouble all the time. Even an invasion of their enemies could not unite them. So they would kill themselves at the same time they were being slain by others. I dont think that the Romans could have conquered them if they had been united, for they were very brave under Josephus when he was their General.
I received a letter from Samuel to day. [Note: Abiel's father] He gave me the information I asked for in my last, in regard to my ancestors. He says there is lots of game out there (Wisconsin) and good fishing also. He says he has got a cow, a hog, ten hens, and a cock to commence keeping house with in the spring.
Major category:
LaForge Civil War Diaries View comments (2)
Tuesday, November 15, 2016 - 13:25
I have't been systematic about posting links to my monthly column at the Queer SciFi blog. I have a new column up on "The Changing Role of Amazons," looking at how the gender-transgressive nature of the Amazon either was or was not associated with homoerotic potential in medieval and Renaissance literature.
Tuesday, November 15, 2016 - 06:00
This is it: release week! And I...I'm floundering. It doesn't feel right to act as if the world is normal. To treat promoting a book as the most important thing to be doing. Yet when I look through the themes in Mother of Souls, I think perhaps it does have some resonances for these times. Here's something I posted on Twitter. Is it just me justifying myself?
Why in the world would my book be worth talking about at a time like this? Well, here are a few reasons I can think of. It's a story about queer women supporting each other in times of trouble. It's about finding common cause across differences. Mother of Souls is about facing a disaster bigger than you are, and deciding it's still worth the risk to tackle it. Mother of Souls is a story about how not all your allies are friendly and not all your friends are allies. And you move forward anyway. It's a story about recognizing the potential and the strengths of people unlike yourself and making your best effort to reach out. Mother of Souls recognizes both the power and the failings of love and family. It's a story that embraces diverse characters across religious, class, and racial barriers, wihtout ignoring those historic forces. That is why I can still bring myself to think it's worth offering my books to the world. Even in these times.
Or, as Serafina says to Luzie when they realize the potential her music holds: “Tanfrit has just gone into the waters. Nothing will ever be simple after that.” It isn't simple. It never was simple. No way out but forward. And the opening of the next chapter scheduled for a teaser echoes how I feel.
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Chapter 20 - Jeanne
The sky cracked open with a blaze of lightning as they crossed the border into the low, forested hills of Helviz. The coachman called down that he’d try to make Pont-Sain-Pol before dark. Jeanne relaxed into the cushions. The fury of the storm was nothing to the tense suspicions of the soldiers in the past week on the road. Travel papers that should have seen them safely through the morass of jurisdictions between Bayreuth and Strasbourg had been questioned at every turn and they had only once made the mistake of mentioning the nature of their visit to Prague. The closer they came to Alpennia the sharper the looks. What would Antuniet have done without her to coax and cajole? But Antuniet had done this before, and very much alone. Jeanne glanced over and saw her staring pensively out the window where rain lashed the glass into impenetrability.
“Are you thinking of the last time?” Jeanne asked.
Antuniet’s head turned from the window. “The last time?”
“That you traveled this way,” Jeanne said. “The last time you returned home.”
“No,” Antuniet said. And then, “Yes, I suppose. It’s different this time, but there’s still that uncertainty. Will my project succeed? What will the reception be?” She looked back toward the window. “That’s no natural storm. No wonder the people back in Les Bains were frightened. What have we come back to?”
Jeanne took her hand. That much, and no more. Toneke hated to be fussed over, and yet she longed to fuss. Throughout the whole journey she’d wanted to offer comfort when it might not be wanted, or even needed. And, of course, Marien was perched on the forward seat, studiously not seeing anything she wasn’t meant to see.
Not all of Antuniet’s outward calm was for show. When it came to the central purpose of this journey, she had made her calculations, weighed her choices, and set out with eyes open. Perhaps it was enough to be here, beside her, accepting those choices.
Publications:
Mother of SoulsMonday, November 14, 2016 - 07:30
Today's LHMP addition is a Tag Index Page for "Misc. Tags - Identity, Sex, and Gender". The set-up of this type of content page means I currently can't "embed" the index page itself in this blog post. Click through for the full content. Or check out the teasers below. The tag display page currently has some technical issues that limit the number of entries displayed for each tag, but I hope to have that fixed soon. At the very least, it will give you a taste of what's available. (I know I keep mentioning little technical glitches in the website. I operate by the principle that it's better to get flawed content out there than to wait until the entire thing is perfect.)
* * *
The purpose of tags is to make information relatively easy to find. The topics covered under “misc. tags” are a combination of themes that guided my choice of publications to cover, and themes that emerged from those publications This essay is intended to explain briefly how the “misc.” tags are being used.
The second purpose is to provide a tag list that the visitor can use to explore the site. The number of tags used in the project, and the organization into four different categories, doesn’t lend itself to a traditional tag-cloud. The Place and Time Period tags each have a single essay. The Event/Person and Misc. Tags will be covered in thematic groups in multiple essays due to the larger number.
I’m planning three essays for the Misc. Tags, each covering a general category with several subcategories. This present essay includes specific vocabulary terms used for lesbians or persons engaging in lesbian-like activities, terms and concepts relating to sexual activity and the physical expression of affection, and concepts relating to gender presentation and identity.
Sample entries:
Vocabulary Terms
Within the European tradition, there are several sets of vocabulary with a long history that specifically refer to women who engage in sex with other women.
Greek and Latin
- lesbian - (Greek origin) A person from the Isle of Lesbos. The adoption of this term for a female homosexual is inarguably due to the association with Sappho, however the path has a few tangles. Greek comedic writers of the 5th c BCE used the word to indicate a sexually assertive (heterosexual) woman, especially one who practiced oral sex. One sometimes hears mistaken claims that the use of lesbian for sexual orientation is a modern invention. The earliest suviving use clearly indicating homosexuality is from Lucian in the 2nd century CE. Byzantine commentaries of the 10th c on the 2nd c religious writings of Clement of Alexandria directly equate lesbian and tribas. The earliest known use in English in this sense is in the 1730s.
Sex and Physical Affection
Overt sexual activity
In general, these tags will be used when sexual activity is an explicit part of the discussion, not simply when it is implied. The most general tag is sex between women, but when more specific activity is mentioned that will also be tagged.
- green sickness - Green sickness was considered a genuine medical syndrome in certain times and places, being the result of unsatisfied female sexual desire. Medical manuals sometimes prescribed masturbation or manual stimulation by another woman as a cure.
Gender Presentation and Identity
This set of tags will cover a great deal of the ambiguous territory between sexual orientation and gender identity. Keep in mind that the purpose of this project is not to define the identity of any specific historic or literary figure, but to cast a very broad net over presentations and activities that contain space for lesbian-like potential.
- cross-dressing - Any context where an individual wears clothing that is socially designated for a different gender than the one they are assigned. The tag includes instances where clothing is used as an overt symbol rather than an overall presentation.
- cross-gender roles/behavior - Any context where a person engages in actions or fulfills a social role that is socially designated for a different gender than the one they are assigned. This may be a covert part of an overall presentation or may be in open contradiction to their assigned gender.
Friday, November 11, 2016 - 06:00
I should have known better. I mean, I know that the Marvel Cinematic Universe is that abusive partner who always comes back promising that this time it will be better. And you hold out. You promise yourself not to get taken again. But you think, maybe it will be different this time. You think, this is a different type of story. Dr. Strange wasn't one of those punch-your-way-out superheros. He was intellectual. Philosophical. He used magic, not his fists. And think of the effects! It'll be different this time. (And, I confess, I'm not entirely immune to the fey, cerebral attractions of Benedict Cumberbatch.)
And I got suckered in one more time.
Whatever a Dr. Strange movie could have been, it got turned into a cookie-cutter punch-em-up extended fight scene. The magic effects are cool, to be sure. And I suppose I should give them props for giving the viewer a serious "reality turned inside out" experience that could only be hinted at on the page of a comic. If I had attempted to watch it in 3D, I'm quite certain I would have lost my cookies. It was visually and conceptually stunning but the relentless assault on my equilibrium was just...look, enough already. It isn't fun any more.
The story line is a combination of stock origin story--brilliant, arrogant Entitled White Guy suffers a take-down due to his own idiocy and drives every one around him crazy with his self-pity and refusal to accept the consequences of his own actions, until he takes himself off to the ends of the earth to demand help from Magical Oriental Mystics--plus the standard plot "Chosen One becomes instantly and amazingly better at this than everyone else who's been working hard for a long time and turns out to be the only person who can Save The World."
You know, the more I think about it, the more I dislike this movie.
Minuses: Immense amounts of gratuitous physical violence. Visual effects designed to take you past vertigo and out the other side. Graphic medical squickiness. (In fact, content warning for that.) Gratuitous Orientalism. Complete and utter failure of the Bechdel-Wallace Test. I think there are only two female speaking parts in the whole movie: the Long-Suffering Loyal Girlfriend Who Gets Shat On By Self-Pitying Whiny Guy But Jumps When He Snaps His Fingers For Help and the Tilda Swinton role that wasn't female in the original comic: Mystical Teacher. (Except instead of Mystical Oriental Teacher, she gets to be Mystical Celtic Teacher. Yes, they said the C word.) There is no chance for the two female characters to have a conversation not about Whiny Guy because they never in fact talk to each other at all. Oh, a good smattering of the redshirt characters on both sides are female, so that's something. But none of the named, speaking characters who interact with Whiny Guy.
Pluses: Um...cool cloak? Nice magic effects? Props to David J. Peterson as linguistics consultant so the script didn't include anything truly silly with regard to ancient manuscripts and mysic spells. (OK, I'm biased. Personal connection.) I'd give a plus for making The Ancient One female except for the whole whitewashing aspect which kind of zeros it out.
Going back to my I'm-So-Over-Marvel cave.
Thursday, November 10, 2016 - 20:25
I didn't have the mental energy to do any of the obvious subjects for a random post, and here it is an hour before bed time. So having just opened up the package on my doorstep (how easy it is to lose track of what I've ordered!) and added it to the stack of books waiting to be cataloged, here are some recent aquisitions. Remarkably enough, none of them are intended for immediate projects. More just a matter of background information on topics I might find useful.
Novaes, Catarina Dutilh & Stephen Read (eds.). 2016. The Cambridge Companion to Medieval Logic. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. ISBN 978-1-107-65667-3
Ok, so buying this book was not entirely unrelated to knowing one of the contributing authors. But it's also the case that I've been developing an interest in the history of western philosophy in general, even apart from bits of it that make their way into the deep-background history of thaumaturgy in the world of Alpennia. (On the principle that the foundations of thaumaturgical theory were built in the medieval period, and haven't yet entirely caught up to the Age of Enlightenment.
McGrade, A.S. 2003. The Cambridge Companion to Medieval Philosophy. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. ISBN 978-0-521-00063-5
In this case, the book simply caught my eye at the Cambridge University Press website when I was ordering the above book. (My library already has a more comprehensive survey of the history of philosophy, but a lot of it is more recent than my interests.)
Wright, Nazera Sadiq. 2016. Black Girlhood in the Nineteenth Century. University of Illinois Press, Urbana. ISBN 978-0-252-08204-7
I'm pretty sure that someone on Twitter mentioned this book, but I can't for the life of me recall who at this point. It's focused on the American experience and so isn't directly related to any current writing projects. The book is a study of the experience and depiction of of black girls in a variety of published sources and aimed at a variety of readerships.
Bennett, Judith M. & Ruth Mazo Karras. 2013. The Oxford Handbook of Women & Gender in Medieval Europe. Oxford University Press, Oxford. ISBN 978-0-19-877938-4
A rather enormous collection of articles on a wide variety of topics. Readers who are only familiar with my Alpennia books may not be aware that my deepest historic love is for the medieval period and one of these days I'll get back to writing stories set in it.
In addition to the above, I also received the replacement copy I bought of Lillian Faderman's Surpassing the Love of Men. My paperback copy was getting a bit battered, so now I have a hard-back former library copy.
Wednesday, November 9, 2016 - 06:45
I hadn't thought of the symbolic echoes when I decided to use the Wednesday blog slot to return to a project I keep meaning to get back to. How could I? I didn't expect the context for those echoes to be so bad.
My Great-Great-Grandfather, Abiel Teple LaForge (1842-1878) left a large collection of correspondence and diary entries from his time serving in the Union army during the U.S. Civil War. My mother transcribed and edited that material and produced a photocopied book that was circulated to family members. I got copies of the text files she'd used for the purpose of putting the material up on the web, but as the project involved a fair amount of tedious formatting, after an initial binge of work, I drifted away from the project.
The introductory apparatus and the material for the years 1861 to 1863 are up on my website. (Not this site, my personal one at heatherrosejones.com.) So as I was finishing up my series on A Little Princess, I thought about taking this project up in that timeslot. Each week, I'll process a certain amount of material and post it here, then eventually it will go up on the main website. (I'm thinking of making some structural change there first.) As some added value, the text I post here will be cleaned up to modern spelling and formatted with more paragraph breaks and punctuation for easier reading. The text on the main webpages for the diaries has the original version and eventually I'll make both available there. I add occasional clarifying comments in square brackets.
So with no other ado, and with the understanding that we're coming in on the middle of the story at this point, here we begin the year 1864 with two letters sent in January. Abiel originally joined a local regiment from upstate New York, but due to a serious bout with dysentary, he ended up in "Convalescent Camp" where we find him now.
* * *
LETTER
Head Quarters - Convalescent Camp Virginia January 14th, 1864
Dear Sister,
It is now 10 o'clock P.M. but I find in looking over my letters that somehow I have made a miscalculation and owe you one. And as I have just written to father I will make myslf even with my sister too, and after that I will probably sleep better.
I am almost inclined to think I am not so much in your debt after all, for since you wrote me I have sent you Henry Graves to give you the news by word of mouth, and have also written to my sister-in-law Sally. So you are posted on what is going on here, and I also am posted in Andover news by receiving a letter from Mrs Perry Potter [note: Abiel's sister Susan married a Potter] and one from Mr. Sherman Crandall. So you see we are both pretty well informed persons, at least in my opinion we are.
Oscar Remington has written to his people about being detailed in the kitchen has he not? I was going to get him detailed as carpenter--had every thing arranged, when he informed me that some men had been around to get men to wait on the tables in the dining rooms, and he had made up his mind to try that and see how it went. So that is all right.
I took a squad of men down to Annapolis Maryland the other day just to see the place. I will describe it to you. It is the capitol of Maryland, situated on an inlet of the Chesapeake Bay and a very uninteresting place. About half as large as New Burgh, very old looking. The only places worth visiting are the U.S. Naval Academy and the State House. The latter is built on the highest ground in the city: square in form. The material used in its construction is brick. From the center of the building rises the steeple to the height of 60 or 65 feet. The view from the top is very nice would be considered splendid by any person who had never been on the Capitol Dome or the Bunker Hill Monument or Washington's Monument at Baltimore. The country arround is very uninteresting, nothing but those short white pines that tell but too truthfully of the sterility of the soil. I believe the State House is, next to Faneuil Hall, the oldest state building in the country. And I am glad I have visited it.
We have been enjoying for the past week (not counting yesterday and today) what has not before [been] enjoyed in this country for several years. That is: seven consecutive days sleighing. And I assure you it has been enjoyed, too, in a manner that we Northerners--who have months of good slipping every year--would not think of. Why, you would laugh to see the cousarns [Note: "cousarns" seems to be something of a slang term but I haven't had a chance to look it up.]--I can't call them anything else--that they get up over in the city to sleigh ride in any thing that has runners. Two boards bent up at the ends with a box on and a horse hitched to it, or two saplings bent like a runner with boards on. In fact anything, only so that they can call it riding in a sleigh. Still, for this very reason, they take more pleasure than we do as it is more dificult to be obtained.
The Potomac has been frozen over for 6 days also so you must know it is rather cold.
Yesterday the snow began to go and today but little is left. Lots of mud in its place though.
General Hentzelman has been assigned to the command of the Department of the North. His Head Quarters will be at Columbus Ohio. Lt. Colonel McKelvy belongs to his staff and I suppose will, of course, go with him to his new command. Who will command this post I do not know. Brigadier General Abercrombie, I suppose. I wish I could go with the Colonel out West, but I cannot.
You must be having very cold weather up your way now too. I pity brother Joseph's straight finger. He will want to slap it prety often, I think. I should think he would be afraid to go near a horse, he has met so many misfortunes from them. However his motto is "persevere" I guess, for he seems bound to do so in regard to horse flesh.
How does mother stand this cold weather? [Note: "mother" is most likely his sister Susan's mother-in-law.] She is getting to be quite old now and needs to have all the love of her children to keep her warm. Dear old lady, I send her mine to help. And Janey--how is she? No danger of her getting cold if she is as fleshy as when her likeness was taken, and you too my sister. I look at that likeness very often and wish I was sitting between you two. Ah! If you were only down here this evening and could go back as soon as you got sleepy (for there is no place for you to sleep here) how I should like it! If I were up there you would hardly send me back if I got sleepy would you?
Susan, I believe from the tone of your last letter you are getting melancholy. Do not let it grow on you, for it is as fatal a desease as the consumption. I say this because I can see you do not know it yourself. With this happy advice I will close, subscribing myself,
Ever Your loving brother
Abiel
LETTER
(Address) Head Quarters Rendezvous of Distribution Virginia
Januaryy 31th 1864
Dear Sister,
I hasten to answer yours of the 23rd for several reasons. Firstly, to inform you that father is prety well. His last letter to me was dated Dec 28th. He had then just returned from getting "ex'd" from the "draught" as the old soldiers say. it cost him $80 he says, for he had to pay for his papers, and his board cost him two dollars a day while he was absent. He was also suffering under an attack of the "neuralgia." He was getting better when he wrote he was expecting to go on his place in the spring.
Secondly, To congratulate you on overcoming your fit of meloncholy, of which I accused you in my last. I humbly beg pardon if I made a mistake. I hope Joseph will make it all right for me by a kiss or two, won't you Josey? By the way, my brother-in-law is the most unlucky fellow with horses I ever saw. I should think they would get tired of hurting him after a while, he takes it so confoundedly cool. Now if it were me, I would half kill them to see if I could not make them more careful how they handle themselves arround me. I shall have no brother in a little while if he allows them to go on at this rate, killing him a little at a time.
"Thirdly" I wish to inquire if Janey received a little note, not worth noticing, which I sent up about a week ago, asking her to be so kind as to engineer sending Oscar a box of goodies. Oscar said he would write to his people to send [it] and we would have things for both of us come in the same box. What we principly need is butter. Oh! you dont know how fine that butter tasted that Henry Graves brought down with him! Eating it was almost as good [as] making a visit to Allegany. At least Oscar and myself had an argument to that effect. Now if you could send us such a box, and not prepay the Express Agent but wait until it gets here and I will pay, it would do just as well.
"Fourthly" General news. The name of this camp is changed to Rendezvous of Distribution, as you have probably noticed from the heading of this interesting epistle. The nature of the camp is changed, as well as the name. Hereafter none but men fit for duty in the field will be sent to this place. Therefore no more discharging will have to be done here. No more men transferred to the Invalid Corps, after the men now in the camp have been thoroughly sifted. Distribution camp, which has always been attached to the command, will be broken up and all the men brought into the Barracks. So the command will hereafter consist of Rendezvous of Distribution, which is our present Barracks, which will contain 5000 men, and the Invalid Corps Barracks which will contain 1000 men. The Invalid Corps is to do the guard duty of the command, and clerks and orderlies will be detailed from it for the officers and offices. So you see there is quite a change. You might as well change the address of your letters, so as to suit the other changes.
I have got Frank Basset detailed as clerk of the Invalid Corps examining board. It is a good position. I hope he will like it. Frank is a "bully fellow." I should have thought I [note: Abiel probably meant "he"] would have got a commission and not come out as a private. However perhaps he is not ambitious for rank. I believe it is not always the best men [that] gets the best positions, though I have done prety well.
Has "Tim Green" went back to the 85th yet? It seems strange he should be sick. He was such a large healthy fine looking man, but I tell you soldiering breaks a man down wonderfully. The Government makes us comfortable as it is possible for soldiers to be, but the change is nevertheless very great from our comfortable Northern homes, to the exposure incidental to an active campaign through the low swampy lands of the Slave states. Not one in one hundred of those hardy men who went forth by thousands at their country's call will return without being broken down. I assure you, after my sickness on the Peninsula, I feel five years older. I have had more opportunaties of gaining experience since I have been in the army than most privates have. I have did my best to improve them also. Perhaps that may account in part for my feeling so old.
You have not got over that habit of dreaming about me yet? Well I hope they do not alarm you as much as they used to. Is it not strange? I have only dreamt of home two or three times since I was up there. I don't think I ever before had such dreamless sleep as I have now. My mind is so much occupied in the day time that it is glad to rest at night. You may believe that if you ..... Give my love to Mother. Tell her to beware of that cold. Tell Janey I have not forgotten this is leap year. Tell the rest a lot of good things and among the rest that I love them all more than ever.
Your loving brother
A.T.-
P.S. I send a letter to father in this same mail. Your's Bijou [note: "Bijou" was Abiel's nickname]
Major category:
LaForge Civil War DiariesTuesday, November 8, 2016 - 07:00
I'm not going to lie--I'm going to spend the entire day being jittery about the election. On the one hand, in my core, I'm confident that Clinton will not only win but win decisively. On the other hand, I'm horrified and terrified that the political climate of my country has made it possible for someone like Trump to get this far. Not that I have any illusions that our political past was any less horrifying and terrifying for marginalized people, but I hold onto the belief that year by year we are coming to a better, deeper, more inclusive understanding of the ideals our nation was founded on. There are so many political parallels around the world where a nation or a society that seemed to be raising itself up to embrace greater openness, greater equality, greater opportunity for all, unexpectedly loses its grasp on that dream and turns to squabbling, back-biting, me-firstism. And beyond my own vote and some substantial campaign donations, I've been left feeling useless to address that possibility.
* * *
Useless: that was what Serafina's husband Paolo had called her when she was unable to turn her mystic visions into the practical help he'd married her for. Useless: the echo of it had followed her in her thaumaturgical studies with Margerit Sovitre. She could see the forces at work, but invoking them to do her will had so far eluded her. But that was all that the Austrian spy Kreiser had asked her to do: to see, and tell him what she saw. In their first sessions, she thought she would fail even at that small task. But as the summer wore one, Kreiser summoned her--no, summoned was not the right word. He simply indicated that he expected her to come and scry for him once more. They were to meet in the public gardens in Urmai, just outside the city of Rotenek. But many people visited the gardens there in summer, including one that Serafina was not yet ready to meet again.
* * *
Chapter Nineteen - Serafina
She knew the monument Kreiser had specified. The gardens were not as full as the time she visited with Luzie and the boys. The children that played along the hedge-bordered paths today lived here, as did the shop girls out on a midday break. The visitors were a different mix as well: courting couples of respectable families, attended at a safe distance by maids or governesses, clumps of students from the university who hadn’t escaped the city for their more abbreviated summer season, walking with heads together in argument.
Serafina settled herself on a bench and looked around to see if Kreiser were in view. Her heart skipped. An achingly familiar figure was winding through the paths with an awkward case in hand.
Olimpia Hankez noticed her, hesitated, then shifted her path. “It’s a lovely day,” she offered.
It was what one said in Urmai. One praised the cool breezes that had first made the spot popular so many years ago. One admired the gardens and made note of whether the crowds were thick or thin. One didn’t exclaim in surprise at the sight of a former lover.
“You’ve come for work?” Serafina asked, nodding at the art case under her arm.
“I thought I’d set myself up and sketch. I need new faces,” Olimpia said, with a rueful twist of her mouth. “And you?”
“I’m meeting someone,” Serafina returned, trying to keep the answer as uninviting as possible. She could still be moved by Olimpia’s energetic grace. The betrayal hadn’t changed that. Luzie hadn’t changed that. Luzie filled a different place in her life, in her heart. A quieter place. Other spaces were still empty. Olimpia had filled one of them for a time. There had never been any word of forever between them. How could there have been? Olimpia dealt in bodies—explored them, appreciated them, immortalized them and then moved on. And for her? She barely knew what she was searching for.
From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Kreiser’s ruddy face. Olimpia saw the movement and followed it. Her eyes widened slightly. Had she recognized the Austrian? Or did she think it an assignation? Or both perhaps?
She said only, “It was good to see you again,” and moved on.
If Kreiser had noticed Olimpia he said nothing when he settled himself on the bench and placed a well-worn atlas in her lap. Even before she opened the covers she could feel the tingle of some mystic residue within the pages. There were no preliminaries this time.
“I thought this might help. Open to the marked page,” he instructed.
She found the ribbon and spread the book across her lap. It was only a section of land, taken out of context, with little markings for roads and rivers, tiny buildings indicating towns, and a faint glow perceptible only to the sensitive where Kreiser had marked a pattern of symbols across one part.
Next he opened a small case that shone brightly with fluctus and unwrapped layers of cloth to lay a frozen lump in her outstretched hand. It became slick with melt and made her fingers ache with the cold.
“Don’t worry about where the ice itself came from,” he said. “Follow the cold. Trace it back to its origin. Use the map.”
Serafina clenched her fingers around the ice, holding it away from the atlas and hoping that she could find the thread before it had melted away.
* * *
Only another week until Mother of Souls is released! (The original date I was given was the 14th, but the publisher's website is now saying the 17th.) Pre-order from Bella Books. Or ask your local bookstore to carry it. Or put a request in at your library. Or show up at the release party at Chessiecon and get your copy signed, along with other cool swag! And I've pledged that if (when) Clinton wins the election, I'll give away five e-books of Mother of Souls on Twitter, so if you're active there, keep your eyes peeled on Wednesday. (For non-Twitter folk, I periodically do platform-specific giveaways. Don't worry.)
Publications:
Mother of SoulsMonday, November 7, 2016 - 07:00
One of the features of the New! Improved! LHMP blog on the Alpennia website is the addition of extensive content tags so that visitors can search for specific types of content. But I and my website designers have been brainstorming over how best to make those tags available. The Cadillac version would be a set of additive filters so you could, for example, ask, "What does the LHMP have on 13th century Spain?" However this Cadillac version would take a fair bit of work and I wanted to roll out something in the near term.
So the current solution will be a set of Tag Essays, set up by tag type (Place, Time Period, Person/Event, and Misc.) and sorted out thematically for the larger categories. (And by "larger categories", I note that the Person/Event tag-list has over 500 entries currently, many used only once.)
I'm rolling out the two simplest groups today: Place and Time Period. These are relatively fixed lists. (Though more Place tags will undoubtedly be added over time.) These essays will explain my strategy in tagging entries and provide a full list of the tags currently in that group. The Tag Essays will always be findable on the main LHMP index page, and eventually I'll have navigation links to them on a sidebar as well.
Expect to see the other two categories covered in the next month or so. I'd originally been planning to spend November tackling several books that I picked up at this year's Medieval Congress in Kalamazoo, but I've decided to slack off a little, in honor of my usual November travel schedule.
This weekend's website work session includes a few other improvements. Most importantly, the Alpennia blog now has an RSS feed! So add http://alpennia.com/blog/feed to your favorite RSS reader. (And let me know if there are any issues with it, because this is all new to me.) If you're a Live Journal user, the RSS feed has been set up there and all you have to do is add Alpennia to your friends list.
If you hadn't previously poked around in the tags on the Lesbian Historic Motif Project, you might not have noticed the problems with how the results were displayed. So if you hadn't noticed, just enjoy using tags to search! If you had noticed, it's fixed! The final major improvement is something that users are unlikely to notice much. I've added a comment-management module so that I don't have to manually sort through the flood of comment-spam to find and approve actual reader comments on the blog. Ideally this sould mean that "real comments" will appear immediately, instead of having to wait for approval.
Sorry that this week's LHMP post seems so boring. Trust me, it's all very exciting on my side! And speaking of excitement, remember that Mother of Souls is now available for pre-order at Bella and major online book sources. (E-books will only be available from Bella for the first month or so, but they have all formats DRM-free.) The bigger the splash the book can make at release, the better the chance that new readers will become interested in the series. So I'm counting on all of you to help spread the word about Alpennia.
Publications:
Mother of SoulsFriday, November 4, 2016 - 12:56
Since I covered a review topic yesterday (and don't have any new reviews to post), how about I swap days and do my not-at-all-random-Thursday promo for Mother of Souls today? Just as a reminder, you can pre-order the paperback or e-book from Bella Books, or order the paperback through Amazon. (E-books are released to the other outlets on a delay, so Kindle will be available in time.) Release date is...um...either November 14 or November 17 depending on which version of the story you're going by.
* * *
Any time I fear I’m losing the thread of a writing project, or need to go to the heart of what one of my books is “about”, I come back to the question: What does this character want? What motivates her at some deep level in everything she does? What measure will she use to determine which choice to make. What desires will turn out to be her weakness, that will tempt her beyond what is sensible? Thinking about those questions has never yet led me wrong. So what do some of these women want?
Luzie Valorin wants to keep her promise to her late husband and see their sons well launched into the world. To give them their best chance of a good place in society…even if that means their place is often far away from her side. Luzie wants to make her parents proud—not simply to assure them that she has made a comfortable life on her own, but to send what she can, now and then, to make their lives more comfortable. Beyond that, Luzie longs for something of her own, something beyond simply fulfilling her duties, something to warm her heart and fill an empty place in her life.
Margerit Sovitre wants to change the world. Oh, nothing earth-shattering; she isn’t interested in politics or the affairs of court. She remembers how sharply and desperately she wanted a chance to study and learn, back when she was a poor relation. Back before her surprise inheritance opened doors she hadn’t imagined. Now she wants to open those doors to others, and if she needs to, she’ll build the doorways and even the whole building around them to do so. Thaumaturgy has given her a taste of a different sort of power, and Margerit is certain that it could move mountains…if only the entrenched forces of Alpennian society were willing to listen to a young woman. And Margerit wants to know everything there is about the mystical powers she can invoke—ones that she is just beginning to learn aren’t the only sort that the world holds.
Serafina Talarico is quite blunt about what she wants: “I want to belong! I want to be comfortable.” But the comforts she remembers from her childhood have been stripped away, layer by layer as she grows up and confronts the reality that she will be a stranger everywhere she goes, even in the city of her birth. Now she would be content to master her own mystical talents—to feel something more than useless and dull-witted. And if she dared to admit it, Serafina wants to be cherished—to find someone who will look into her eyes and truly see her, and want what they see.
Above anything else in the world, Jeanne de Cherdillac wants Antuniet Chazillen, and now that she has achieved that desire, she wants to sort out what is left of her place in society in the aftermath. Jeanne always had a talent for organizing other people’s lives. Now she want to turn that talent from organizing balls and parties to helping others achieve their place in life, whether that place is on stage in the Grande Salle or at the center of a salon among a crowd of witty and talented intellectuals. In her youth, Jeanne learned a hard lesson about not wanting the impossible. But the possible includes many things. Sometimes they only need someone like Jeanne to give them a push.
Barbara Lumbeirt wants to protect and support all the people whose lives are bound to hers. Some might have thought it was a reflex left over from her years serving as Baron Saveze’s armin and duelist. Saveze was part of the cause, but as an old-fashioned model of what a lord owed to the land and people. But these are new times and the people Barbara wants to protect may have other ideas. Barbara wants an outlet for her restless energy and few things offer the challenge she needs like the rumors of international conflict that are reaching across Alpennia’s borders to strike at those she loves.
Antuniet Chazillen wants to restore the lost honor of her family and leave a legacy that will reach across the ages. The first step of that quest was achieved when she was named Royal Alchemist to the court of Alpennia. But her single-minded focus on legacy may risk everything she has already gained.
Iulien Fulpi wants what every provincial upper middle class girl wants: a glittering coming-out ball surrounded by those she loves, and the heady whirl of a dancing season before the need to make decisions that will fix the direction of the rest of her life. But she wanted her cousin Margerit to be there—her beloved and idolized cousin who sometimes seemed to be the only person who understood there might be more to want in addition to those things.
Anna Monterrez wants to repay the trust everyone has rested on her: her father’s trust that her alchemical studies will provide her with a respected trade, in case her scarred face fails to secure her a husband; the trust of her teacher, Antuniet Chazillen, who is granting her ever more responsibility in the alchemical laboratory; the trust of the Vicomtesse de Cherdillac who has promised to turn her from a shy schoolgirl into a sophisticated salonnière. But will Anna’s most secret, most hidden desire betray all those trusts?
Publications:
Mother of SoulsPages
