Curst Be He

On the left, John Donne, 17th-century poet and priest, painted by an unknown artist circa 1595. On the right, William Shakespeare,17th-century poet, playwright, and wearer of a stylish earring, attributed to John Taylor circa 1610.

Good friends, 'tis the four-hundredth anniversary of William Shakespeare's death (and possibly his birth as well). As avid members of the Shakespeare fandom celebrate the Bard's legacy across the Internet (and Anti-Stratfordians raise a clamor of unnecessary consternation on behalf of the real author of Shakespeare's plays, who is undoubtedly Francis Bacon/Edward de Vere/Christopher Marlowe/a time-travelling Lin-Manuel Miranda), I asked the characters of an ongoing project of mine what Shakespeare means to them.

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" said one necromancer, Miss Siona Donne. She promptly proceeded to throw open a curtain, revealing not only the zombie of her ancestor John Donne, but a Zombie William Shakespeare as well. (Zombies, in this universe, are well-possessed of their minds and do not require a diet of brains, barring the results of any fits of nostalgia they may have for Tudor-era chicken-brain blancmange.)

This brought many, many questions to my mind. Is this the reason Shakespeare's skull is missing from Holy Trinity Church? Didn't Shakespeare put a curse on his grave, and if so, what would it do to our gutsy necromancer? What's the relationship between Zombie Shakespeare and Zombie Donne? And why would someone want to raise Shakespeare from the dead in the first place?

Of course, the only acceptable answer comes in the form of a short story.

Good frend for Iesvs sake forebeare,
To digg the dvst encloased heare.
Bleste be the man that spares thes stones,
And cvrst be he that moves my bones.

—epitaph of William Shakespeare, inscribed on his grave at Holy Trinity Church

Translation: The Huron Carol

"Reconstruction of a Huron longhouse for the film "Robe Noire," site of la Nouvelle-France, Saint-Félix-d'Otis, Québec, Canada [tr. Amanda Grace Shu]." By Pierre5018 (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.

I know what you're thinking. What's a Christmas carol post doing on my blog in January? Do I not know that Christmas is over?

Well, to that I say, 1) Hey, it ain't over until Epiphany happens, and 2) I didn't have this translation ready at Christmas, because I didn't discover this song until after Christmas, and I can't stand to wait another year before sharing this with you all.

The Huron Carol is Canada's oldest Christmas carol, written by a Jesuit priest named Father John de Brébeuf, later canonized as one of the patron saints of Canada. (Yes, yes, here I must admit I'm American, not Canadian, but I'm a nerd, so of course I know who the patron saint of Canada is.) Father John lived among the Wendat/Huron people and wrote this carol in the Wendat language, making this one of the first texts written in Wendat. A popular English translation was created by Jesse Edgar Middleton in 1926, but his translation has been criticized for its confusion of different native cultures and Western use of broad generalizations about what they think "Native American" culture should be. Nevertheless, alternative translations are few and limited to a few verses as in the Heather Dale cover of the song in English, French, and Wendat.

I discovered this carol through Heather Dale's song and went digging for a direct translation from Wyandot to English, the only one of which I found at Diversity Tree. Andrea Shallay, author of the Diversity Tree article, writes: "I was moved by the intimate and respectful tone of the original lyrics. Instead of using made-up native images to fit a nativity story, it is a theological discussion tapping into images and values shared by both Christian and traditional Huron beliefs. Cultural references are not thrown around lightly, nor is the meaning of the images compromised for either party. It is not a tool for conversion because the lyrics require the Huron people to share what was important to them just as Father de Brébeuf could share what was important to him. I find the traditional lyrics of the Huron Carol to be a carol of respect and cultural exchange, attempting to translate meaning across cultural boundaries."

With this as my mission statement and both the direct English translation and the French translation as my guides, I set out to write a rhyming, metrically-fitting English translation of the Huron Carol. Note: I do not speak Wendat at all and am not a member of the First Nations. If my translation is inaccurate, disrespectful, or is surpassed by a translation written by a member of the Huron tribe, please defer to those from whose culture this song comes. If you are a member of the Huron tribe or speak the Wendat language, do not hesitate to contact me with notes on this translation. I am always eager to learn more.

The Huron Carol

Listen

From http://www.cultbox.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/Doctor-Who-Listen2.jpg, courtesy of the Google Machine. 'Tis a screenshot from the inspirationally well-written Doctor Who episode with which this essay shares its title.

I rarely write personal essays, and when one is assigned despite my protests, I make a conscious effort to write more about others--or, better yet, abstract concepts--than I do about myself. I don't know why, other that I'm a very private person. And yet, whenever I write about the characters I've created, or about the writing process in general, the resulting essay reveals more about me than I ever intended.

That's what ended up happening with this essay, "Listen". I wrote it as part of my college application, which I sent to six colleges, five of which accepted me. The college which I will be attending in the fall started their acceptance letter with a quote from the essay and a note on how deeply it resonated with their admissions staff. My parents' initial reaction was more along the lines of "...that's... different... very you, though." And I have to agree. "Listen" is a meditation on an integral part of my identity; it speaks to an experience that many and yet few share. And it is utterly, undeniably mine.

Enjoy.

Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

The Little Prince (For My Mother)

A banner adapted from http://www.lepetitprince.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/09/arsdraw.jpg, with a quote from the following piece: "Meaning something to even one star would keep me going."

For those of you who are unaware, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry is a French existential tale in the guise of a children's book. The story highlights both the absurdity of adult life and the ultimate beauty and innocence of the universe in which we live. It relates the adventures of a Little Prince from Asteroid B-612 who travels to different planets, including Earth, in search of knowledge about the world around him.

I was going to publish this on my mother's birthday, February 6th, since the piece is dedicated to her. However, I missed the deadline and, well, better late than never, I suppose!

For my mother

Azure

Azurite and malachite, both of which appear in this poem. From http://www.roomservicestore.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/AzuriteMalachite2.jpg.

Azure

The Omniscience: Nevermore

Photoshopped by yours truly. I don't own the words, as they belong to Edgar Allan Poe, nor do I own the picture of the raven. 'Tis from  http://csicreativesceneinvestigation.files.wordpress.com/2013/04/sketch__undead_raven_by_michifromkmk-d5n804p.jpg.

Since I shared this with the folks at Runaway Tales on LJ, I figured I would share this with you lovely folks on this blog, too. It is Chapter Six of The Omniscience, written from Lilah's perspective, and was initially inspired by the prompt, "all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream" (a Poe quote), but eventually wound up being more about Poe's The Raven through the very complicated series of events that is the writing process.

Nevermore

New Millennium

Neither is race. Or education, for that matter. Source: http://www.n2growth.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/Checklist2.jpg, via the Google Machine.

This poem won second place in World Unity Inc.'s 9th Annual Poetry Contest on Diversity and Inequality. To be honest, I think they were looking for something a bit less... challenging of today's world to be in first-place, but hey, as long as there's a nice certificate and recognition for a poem I loved writing, I'm ecstatic. :D

They like me! They really, really like me!

New Millennium

Maya & Matilda: Mock Orange Style

Photo by D. Sharon Pruitt--part of a flyer advertising Mock Orange, the publication in which "For Maya and Matilda" has been published!

Readers may or may not remember the poem "For Maya and Matilda," written in the style of the inestimable Maya Angelou, but I'm happy to announce that it has been published in the debut issue of Mock Orange Magazine, a new literary magazine featuring fiction, nonfiction, poetry, and art from girls and women ages 14-25!

This issue can be bought for $6 at CreateSpace here. It will also be available through Amazon.com starting next week.

Like Mock Orange on Facebook here and visit their website here.

Love Letters

From http://tiutiubells.files.wordpress.com/2011/06/tumblr_lnbtk5uiao1qzur8to1_500.jpg, with a background added by me. Image depicts one couple I wasn't able to work into this story: Lady Justice and Lady Liberty. Yes, I ship them. They're an amazing couple.

This was actually written shortly after the repeal of DOMA (hip-hip-hooray!), but I waited to post it so it will be in conjunction with International Femslash Day, an internet-wide celebration of lesbian couples in fanfiction and original fiction. I decided to write a piece with six different couples, half of whom are not my characters and the other half who are. Enjoy!

(Somewhat Obvious) Note: This story contains six lesbian couples. If you aren't okay with that, then don't go on the internet for all of today.

Love Letters

(for international femslash day)

Ezekiel

From http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/6/62/Columbian_mammoth.JPG/250px-Columbian_mammoth.JPG. It's a Columbian mammoth skeleton.

 So, I just returned from the Juniper Institute for Young Writers summer program, and thus have a ton of new work to show y'all. One such work is one of three poems inspired by a trip to the Amherst College Natural History Museum. Our group's task was to observe the colors of the museum and write about them in a more realized, inventive way.

The first thing I saw there was the bones of a Columbian mammoth, whose real ivory tusks were in a display case to the side.

Hence, this poem.

Ezekiel

Magniloquence

Taken from http://youthvoices.net/sites/default/files/image/10913/apr/selfesteem.png, courtesy of The Internet, as usual. Image apparently depicts all the labeling and pressure put upon young girls in the media that leads to low self-esteem— the very things that the speaker of this poem is attempting to defy in her "magniloquence."

High time for some optimistic poetry, eh?

I don't like to boast. No, really, I don't. That's not just me being modest. I don't like boasting.

That being said, this assignment for Creative Writing Class was deemed a "boast poem," though I prefer to think of it as a "confidence poem." Excuse any arrogance that you may perceive while reading this—it's part of the prompt, I swear. As was the rhyme scheme. And the number of lines. And the Maya Angelou and King Lear allusions, though I was happy to put those in.

Magniloquence

(or, A Boast of Epic Proportions)

Sonnet & Villanelle

Picture is taken from http://totheshore.files.wordpress.com/2010/04/quillpeninkwell1.jpg, courtesy of The Internet. (I seriously hope I don't get sued for that phrase sometime in the future.) It depicts a quill pen and ink, evoking Shakespearean sonnets. These poems are not quite the same as those.

Neither of the two poems I'm sharing with you today are exactly what their titles imply.

The first, a "sonnet," happens to be not of love, but of anger and even hate. Also, it is (somewhat mercifully) not directed towards a specific person, as many sonnets—be they romantic or accusatory—are. The second, a "villanelle," is written not in villanelle format, but in sonnet format. It too has a dark tone, though it is the lack of emotional articulation ability, rather than the presence, that lends it this. (It was written to be spoken in a play by an android incapable of feeling.) Grouping the two poems together is thus natural—both are melancholy sonnets that do not quite fit the connotations of their forms.

I seriously hope these poems do not upset you all.

Sonnet & Villanelle

For Maya and Matilda

From http://loveforliana.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/footprints-snow-love-for-liana.jpg, courtesy of The Internet. 'Tis a very lovely image, methinks, and evocative of certain phrases from this poem.

Poetry fans, you're in luck--the next several posts on this blog will contain a plethora of poetry, as I have recently had to complete two collections of poetry for school. The assignment for this one was to write a poem in the style of another, more famous poet, so I have attempted to imitate the poetic style of the inestimable Maya Angelou.

Another inspiration for this poem was the story of Matilda, Lady of the English. I don't think you have to know her story to understand the poem, but it might help.

For Maya and Matilda

Fly Away

From this blog. It shows a girl with wings against a bloodstain, implying that it is probably said flying-girl's blood. Gory, but strong. It fits this post.

This story—246 words long; it's what is known as "flash fiction"—is a lipogram, avoiding that glyph which follows "D" in Latin writing distribution. It was truly difficult to draft, and it infracts its own limitations at its finish. Why? For drama, naturally.

Warning: Dark. Of my various works, this would probably win an award for darkness. Shows how much pain I'm in, writing without that glyph... "Optimistic" tags = 10 posts, "dark" tags = 11 posts. Oh, no! Must jot down a happy story now...

I long for this story to satisfy any anticipation I built up....

Fly Away

Toujours (ce n'est rien)

Picture taken from http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/16900000/girl-and-the-rain-sad-songs-16929572-500-706.jpg. Image depicts a girl in the rain. Whether or not she is sad is up to your interpretation.

A (long) short story written for my new Creative Writing class. It has two titles because I am indecisive. Those titles are in French because that language features rather prominently in this story. 

If you are not familiar with the French language, I have tried to make some things clear from context (except when I want it to be ambiguous for dramatic effect). If you are, c'est magnifique! Hopefully the foreign words will enhance your story-reading experience. Si vous êtes français, bienvenue! Et n'ayez pas peur de corriger mes erreurs!

Why French? ...I don't know. Maybe they're from Canada.

Toujours

(ce n'est rien)

Angels

The Presentation in the Temple by Jean-Baptiste Jouvenet, the painting in the Smith College Museum of Art that hath inspired this poem. It depicts the Biblical story of presentation of Jesus in the temple, with a mournful-looking woman in the lower left-hand corner.

 Another one from my summer at Smith, but a poem this time!

This is one of my favorites from the poetry I wrote at the Smith workshop. We took a field trip to the Smith College Museum of Art and came up with poem ideas based the paintings we saw, then went back to the classroom and wrote them. There are probably twenty other ideas that I wrote down, but this is the only one  that has actually been written (so far).

For some reason, it was ridiculously hard to find an image file on the internet of this painting. 1) Jouvenet painted two "Presentation in the Temple"s, the other of which is more well-known; 2) I had been spelling his name wrong for half of my search; and 3) those that I did find had watermarks on them. But I did find it eventually, so here it is in all its glory.

Enough of my rambling, which is probably longer than the poem itself. Enjoy!

Angels

(after The Presentation in the Temple by Jean-Baptiste Jouvenet)

Moment

Yes, this is me and my brother. From the back, to conceal our identities, obviously.

Make way for memoir! Make way for memoir!

Yes, I have as of recently been exploring the treacherous waters of the nonfiction genre, if by "recently" you mean "in July, at Smith," and have made a wary but definite peace treaty with personal experience writing, if only for a little while. I've actually been meaning to post this for some time, but I couldn't figure out how to get the picture in until today...

Posted to the Teen Ink website August 1st, 2012. And even featured on the front page of the entire Nonfiction section! I have a screencap as proof.

With the little VIP sticker next to my name, no less!

I hope you enjoy it!

Moment

Where the Heart Is

Picture from http://lovesagame.com/wp-content/uploads/love_poem.jpg. Image depicts a very pretty heart-shaped light pattern on a book. In case you couldn't tell.

Another one pulled from the recesses of my computer, although it was written more recently--for a summer writing program at Smith College. One of my very few pieces of realistic contemporary fiction, though I did consider an alternate version with magic involved before realizing it would betray the integrity of the story. Enjoy, and by all means, comment!

Note: contains LGBT romance. If for some reason you're uncomfortable with that, it is certainly your right to have that opinion, but please refrain from starting a flame war on my blog.

Where the Heart Is

Falling Rocks

From http://community.sparknotes.com/index.php/2009/11/24/blogging-lord-of-the-flies-chapter-5-beast-from-water/, regarding Lord of the Flies. It doesn't quite fit with the seriousness of this piece, but it's one of the few things that made reading that book bearable.

This has been hanging around on my computer for quite some time now, and I just realized today that you all might want to read it.

I don't actually like Lord of the Flies. In fact, I hate it, almost as much as I hate The Old Man and the Sea. Actually, scrap that. The Old Man and the Sea is much, much worse.

Anyway, you may be wondering why, if I hate LOTF so much, why am I writing essentially a fanfiction about it? Good question. My answer is that the book's ending simply doesn't settle it for me. Being a person who believes in the goodness of humanity as opposed to its evil, I wanted to show a more balanced view of the universe. William Golding may disagree, but then again, I'm not writing to please him.

This piece also has the honor of being tagged with both "dark" and "optimistic." I'm not sure which outweighs which. Oh, and disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Flies, nor do I want to. Also, spoilers if you haven't read the book.

Falling Rocks

Undone

Picture taken from http://transmedialshakespeare.files.wordpress.com/2011/03/lady_macbeth.jpg. Image depicts Lady Macbeth, also known as Gruoch, the main character of this story.

A short story written for an English class project. Part historical fiction and part fanfiction, it is based on William Shakespeare's Macbeth.

Posted to the Teen Ink website on March 17, 2012.

Undone