#Arkhaven INFOGALACTIC #Castalia House
The intrinsic problem of writing self-inserts, demonstrated in a single meme.
Now what could be wrong with my Mary Sue?
She’s very important, she’s got so much to do!
She pretty, she’s smart, and everyone loves her;
She’s got endless depths for her fans to uncover.
Though it must be admitted there is one problem, true,
Since there’s nothing at all for her sidekicks to do!
People are often advised to “fake it until you make it”, but speaking as a publisher, I see a surprising number of people who never quit faking it even after they achieved a modicum of success. The main reason for “imposter syndrome” is that there are a lot of imposters out there.
Not all self-doubt is unwarranted. And to paraphrase Garrison Keillor, the urge to perform is not a reliable indicator of talent.
Behind the scenes, Neil Gaiman and his coterie of freakshows and followers and PR firms have been actively engaged in gaslighting his growing number of accusers for the last two months. This is probably the primary reason for the wall of silence from everyone who has worshipped at the feet of the modestly-talented charlatan, which is nearly everyone in science fiction and fantasy today. One target of this gaslighting has apparently had enough of the nonsense and was gracious enough to expose it publicly:
A summary of the SIXTH episode about Neil Gaiman’s decades long web of abuse. He can be heard in recorded calls. This is Neil. Listen to it for yourself.
Also of note, my former friend who is deep in his cultish inner circle sent me private emails from this woman speaking in this episode. Private emails sent to me in the hopes I wouldn’t believe her story (first aired on a different podcast). Emails from when she was 21/22 and was in the midst of her situation with Neil.
Neil sent this woman’s emails out to one of his lovers and god knows who else, along with lies about her claims…long AFTER these phone calls you’ll hear in this episode. He admits it. And later lies. Lies that arrived on my phone randomly from someone I considered my friend. Because apparently he really enjoys brain washing people.
I am livid. These women have been brave to come forward this way! Guess he’s not so far removed from his Scientology upbringing after all, eh? If you want to come forward about Neil in any way I hope you will feel empowered by the women who have spoken out. You don’t have to protect him any longer.
I won’t share screencaps of Claire’s emails themselves because those shouldn’t have been shared with me in the first place but this is from my former friend, the day after we fought by phone. Neil forwarded my friend these emails which she sent to me and at least one other person TO DISCREDIT CLAIRE.
The exact date was the day after Claire’s story first dropped. July 28th i believe? He was working overtime texting and calling people to get them in line. Also his lawyers apparently asked him for a list of names of all his “girlfriends” who might be “unhappy”.
It’s somewhat amusing how the Gaiman Defense Team tries to hit any angle that they think might work. But denigrating journalists who are literally doing their job as “sociopaths who just wanted a story” is never going to work with anyone. I’ve been the subject of more stupid, pointless, and unmerited hit pieces than Neil Gaiman ever will be, and it never even occurred to me to blame the journalists or call them psychopaths for trying to score a few points with the SJW crowd.
I mean, when a Tor Books author publishes a piece in a major UK newspaper quoting numerous Tor editors and authors about how evil you are for stealing nominations that should have gone to Tor editors and authors like they always do, it’s hard to take it personally. The motivation underlying the hit piece isn’t exactly opaque.
Anyhow, I really don’t think the defense team’s “get to know the real Gaiman behind the allegations” is a tactic that is likely to prove successful. Because the real Gaiman, the one you can hear on the podcast, is a creepy, self-pitying little Gamma male, whose success has obviously been mostly manufactured for him. Forget autism and narcissism, I’ll bet he’s got one whopper of a case of Imposter Syndrome, because he’s an even bigger literary imposter than John Scalzi. What Gaiman’s fans like about him is not the actual individual, it is the Wizard of Goth construction that conceals the wretched little man.
I just finished reading Gaiman’s Ocean at the End of the Lane. It’s not terrible. It has its elements and its moments. I’ll review it on the Darkstream sometime. But for me, the most noteworthy aspect of the little novel was not its whitewashing of a historical Scientology-related suicide that may or may not have actually been a suicide, but rather, its relentless and imitative mediocrity.
Jeff Vandermeer saw it too. Any halfway-decent author who actually reads a Gaiman book can’t help but see that it’s always been fraudulent. Given what we now know of his Scientology background, his success in bookselling shouldn’t be taken any more indicative of his literary talents than L. Ron Hubbard’s was.
Just stop quoting stupid ass Neil Gaiman writing advice. It’s always like “trust in your dreams” or other shit you see on a bumpersticker or on a sign in a Hobby Lobby. “Trust your dreams and pixie dust will shoot out of your ass.”
The art always betrays the author. I knew John C. Wright was a science fiction grand master from the first time I read The Golden Age. I knew Cornelius Claudio Kreutsch was a genuine magician at the keyboard the first time I saw him play in Barcelona. And I knew Neil Gaiman was a literary fraud by the time I finished reading the sixth issue of Sandman back in 2018; I’d previously read Good Omens, which aside from a few typical Terry Pratchett gems, I found to be a disappointing and not-very-funny Douglas Adams pastiche.
Neil Gaiman is Jordan Peterson for the Drama Club. He mirrors back to them what they want to see in themselves He was always John Dee, never Dream.
UPDATE: The Wall of Silence just developed a pretty big crack. The Bookseller is an important industry site in the UK:
The Bookseller reached out to Gaiman’s representatives, who did not respond, and his publishers, with Headline declining to comment, and Bloomsbury, Penguin Random House (PRH) and HarperCollins US not responding to requests to comment. The Bookseller also reached out to the Royal Society of Literature, of which Gaiman is a patron, which declined to comment, as did the Publishers Association. The Bookseller also contacted the Society of Authors (SoA) for a comment but it did not respond.
Just wait until the publishing industry realizes that a significant percentage of Gaiman’s alleged 50 million book sales went to Scientology, as with L. Ron Hubbard’s “bestsellers”.
Didact’s Mind wrote a very favorable review of the preliminary edition of A SEA OF SKULLS back in 2017. It would be interesting to know if he feels the completed work holds up to his initial perspective on it.
Vox Day has not merely matched George R. R. Martin’s fantasy writing skills and output. He has exceeded him, by miles, leaving old Rape Rape wheezing and panting in the dust.
In fact, I am willing to go so far as to argue that, with this book, Vox Day has catapulted himself into the storied and rarefied rank of writers that sits just below The Master himself.
That’s right, I went there. I just said that Vox Day has written a book that is nearly as good as J. R. R. Tolkien’s work.
Not as good. But not terribly far off, either.
From one fantasy fan to another, praise simply does not come any higher than that.
Vox’s accomplishment is made all the more astonishing by the fact that this isn’t even the completed book yet. It’s less than half of the full work. This book is already far more complex, more layered, and simply bigger in scale and scope than its predecessor. There are far more point-of-view characters, the battle sequences are way bigger, the size of the world that Vox Day is playing with is far greater…
The result is so good that it deserves to be called the finest high-fantasy book of its time.
Make no mistake: this now puts Vox Day right below The Master himself in terms of writing- right up there with C. S. Lewis, John C. Wright, and maybe two or three others. And that is an astonishing achievement, given that neither Tolkien nor Vox can rightly be considered first-rate fantasy writers.
One of the interesting things about the comparison between Tolkien and Day is that neither of them are really writers to begin with. Vox Day started out as a musician and a game designer. Vox himself will readily admit that his writing is not as good as Tolkien’s- because it isn’t. Yet Tolkien was a linguist, whose strong Christian faith and interest in Scandinavian mythology helped him create a fantasy world. The reason both Tolkien and Day succeeded, where so many dedicated professional authors would have failed, is because they focused on their respective strengths and wrote works of epic fantasy that played to them…
This book is, quite simply, an extraordinary achievement. With it, Vox has separated himself from all of his contemporary rivals and has clearly laid down a marker for everyone else to match- and I personally don’t think anyone will be able to do so for years, maybe decades, to come.
It’s entirely up to the reader to see if the most recent volume in ARTS OF DARK AND LIGHT holds up to the promise of its earlier and abbreviated release. But for my part, what I will say is that one reason it took me so long to complete the book and get it out is that I was determined to at least try to deliver something that was consistently at the same level as A THRONE OF BONES. I took PG Wodehouse as my inspiration here, as his work is remarkably consistent throughout a novel; he was quite purposeful in attempting to ensure that every scene and every page stood up well on its own. This required a significant amount of discipline in not permitting the story to expand willy-nilly in any direction that happened to capture my attention at the time.
As we’ve seen from George Martin’s failure to finish his epic fantasy, while it’s much easier to churn out words by following one’s momentary whims and exploring whatever tangent happens to strike one’s fancy, this inevitably leads to a wider scope and excessive perspective characters that will, sooner or later, render the story too large to write. One of the many geniuses of JRR Tolkien was his ability to keep his epic story tied very tightly to a fairly small number of key characters, keeping them in physical proximity to each other, and thereby preventing the story from continually expanding to the point that it escaped his ability to reasonably describe it.
Only time will tell, but in A SEA OF SKULLS, I believe that I successfully conquered the challenge of the middle book, which in any trilogy is always the hardest book to write because it has to expand upon the first book without exploding in a manner that renders closure in the third book impossible. It’s interesting that one seldom hears writers discussing these technical matters, but this is probably because the sort of writers who attend workshops mostly write short stories, while the writers who teach them are either self-promoters like John Scalzi or successful mediocrities cruising for starstruck young women like Neil Gaiman, neither one of whom could write epic fantasy if they tried.
Anyhow, for better or for worse, it’s done now and I’m on to the final volume in the series. If Didact’s Mind updates his review, I’ll be sure to post a link to it here.
The hardcover edition of A SEA OF SKULLS is now available on Amazon, as are its predecessors, SUMMA ELVETICA and A THRONE OF BONES.
Three down, one to go. The paperback edition has been submitted and should also be available through the retail bookstores early next week is also available. And, of course, NDM Express has them as well. Here is one of the first reviews, based on the Kindle edition.
The successor volume to A Throne of Bones, extends and deepens the Great Game played across Selenoth. The mysterious Watchers emerge as events grow wider and more subtle; with armies marching and leaders falling, they must now step out of shadows and reveal themselves to their selected minions in the Younger Races. The minions respond in various ways; what can be counted on is that The Watchers are not revealing the complete truth or timeline to their minions, each other, or maybe themselves. A gateway, an alignment, and an artifact are common elements, but the reader must determine which parts are true. Rudyard Kipling would approve of The Great Game play, and how leaders and common folk are portrayed.
Visions of intense beauty mix with prosaic household scenes, and acts of horror or terror are met with stern justice and supreme sacrifice. Treachery, double-dealing, and acts of mercy conflict and act at cross-purposes, creating unintended consequences and surprise outcomes. The action, battles, and intrigues build across species, realm, entire regions, with several startling climax moments of horror and glory, sufficient to make men weep in joy and grief. Some characters may not be seen again; others – perhaps leave a legacy, or return through Grace?
The narrative and writing style are reminiscent of The Lord of the Rings. The prose is well structured, but doesn’t have the depth or meter of an Oxford Don. The author would make Tolkien smile, with a sprightly and almost gleeful Thomistic analysis of a question by one character, something worthy of placement in Christian epic fantasy. This is a worthy addition to the set of Epic Fantasy as an homage to Tolkien, supporting the Good, Beautiful and True, and explicitly Christian in structure.
The characters range from an orc leader of decent but evil intellect, promoted for rational acts to protect his lads, to a decrepit, nearly deceased elf Magister who answers dire pleas for help – but with painful costs for his people and himself. Several heroes and villains continue, with greater depth and subtle character revelations. Some are introduced, some strengthen their positions, while others make their final curtain call. This is the way of all life in Selenoth, as is true in our world. All are striving to protect and defend what is Good, Beautiful, and True or its Inverse, driven by their faith, morals, and internal desires.
Highly recommended for high school ages and above. Be prepared to make side studies of politics, Republican Rome, faith and theology, logic, logistics, and poetry, and enjoy the excursions.
UPDATE: The paperback edition is now available on Amazon and on NDM Express.
As I’ve commented in the past, John Scalzi is an amazingly good self-marketer. I’m not being sarcastic here at all, he’s one of the best I’ve ever seen, and I spent some time in the tech-invest world which is absolutely overflowing with self-promoters and would-be self-promoters. Marc Rein of Epic is probably the best I’ve ever known, but the fact that Scalzi managed to transform his mediocre and purely imitative writing into very profitable and award-winning science fiction career borders on magic.
And in this piece, which is ostensibly about the sexual assault allegations aimed at Neil Gaiman, he shows us how he does it, which is with a relentless focus on himself and how he wants the readers to view him.
In the wake of the various recent allegations involving Neil Gaiman, people have been both very sad that someone who they looked up to as an inspiration has, allegedly, turned out to be something less than entirely admirable, and are now looking to see who is now left that they can rotate into the spot of “the good dude,” i.e., that one successful creative guy who they think or at least hope isn’t hiding a cellar full of awful actions. One name I see brought up is mine, in ways ranging from “Well, at least we still have Scalzi,” to “Oh, God, please don’t let Scalzi be a fucking creep too.” Which, uhhhh, yeah? Thanks?
I have many thoughts about this and I’m going to try to make sense of them here, as much for myself as anyone else, so this may be messy and discursive and long (seriously, 3600 words, y’all), but, well, welcome to me.
3,600 words with one single reference to Neil Gaiman. It’s impressive, in its own unique way. What’s amazing is that the dimwitted SJWs will actually give credit to Scalzi for “addressing the issue” even though he’s done absolutely nothing but evade it to what is very nearly the greatest extent possible.
And the amusing thing about the piece is that literally no one idolizes Scalzi or is in any way imagining that the Ohio Doughboy can serve as an effective substitute for the brooding, Gothically-dreamy Mr. Tubcuddle. Gaiman is the apex version of Scalzi, with similarly self-marketed and manufactured success that is an order of magnitude greater. But both charlatans – and they are not only both charlatans, but self-admitted charlatans who suffer from Imposter Syndrome – are masters of persuasion and self-promotion.
One must give credit where it is due, after all. They’re both very good, they’re just not very good at what most people erroneously believe they are good at. And while some of Gaiman’s fans are falling for it, others already see through the would-be self-appointed replacement.
I find Scalzi’s post problematic. To me it’s a big hint that Scalzi himself may have issues – not with abuse, but he may be letting his fame and the occasional adulation get to his head.
While he acknowledged ‘Neil fucked up’, his main post is ‘please don’t idolize me’.
I’m sorry, but as someone who has some experience with fame and recognition in my own scope (I can’t reveal anything else, for obvious reasons on this type of sub), I feel that this is an extremely disingenuous take. As I said to one of the mysterious new accounts that I argued with here, no one who achieves that level of fame does so by wallflowering and accidentally dropping themselves into it. Curating your image of yourself is hard work that takes requires a constant habit. Otherwise, you’ll be forgotten.
Does Scalzi think that the problem is being idolized? That fans sometimes see the person whose art they consume is a hero? Then he can publish his art anonymously. Wattpad exists. J.K. Rowling tried publishing under a pseudonym, so did Doris Lessing. A person who reached that level of fame worked to gain prominence.
And I still find what he said about Neil insufficient. It makes it sound like all Neil did was cheat on his wife like once or twice, and not manipulate his image to shield his alleged predatory behaviour over a course of decades.
And while Scalzi doesn’t actually say it, it’s almost as if he’s implying that the problem is that Neil’s fans idolized Neil. (And not: Neil constructed this image that can be idolized – as any person who desires fame would be constructing out of themselves – and then abused it). I’m sorry, but can we please remember that famous people are not your friends? Every step of fame is constructed by the person who desired it. If Scalzi has reached a point where he has fans who idolize him, he worked to achieve it. If he doesn’t want it anymore, stop working at it.
Honestly, I didn’t really care about Scalzi prior to this, but this way of weighing in on the Neil Gaiman scandals (turning it around to make it about himself) and the weird mass downvote I got on the Neil Gaiman sub just gives me a bad impression of the whole thing.
But that’s what Scalzi quite literally does best. He turns EVERYTHING around to make it about himself, without shame, hesitation, or regret. That’s the entire basis for his career and his success.
UPDATE: A Gaiman fan points out that Scalzi happens to be friends with a lot of serious creeps.
Dude’s had at least four friends be ousted as creeps in 4 years, the last couple of them within 6 months of each other, at least 3 of them male writers with some serious clout in the field and one of them a big deal in fandom/Worldcon/Hugo. Some soul searching seems in order as to why you keep finding self professed friends of yours being ousted as creeps, maybe?
This is a short piece about Neil Gaiman by a woman with whom I was briefly acquainted; I also knew the “Mike” to whom she refers, and even spent quite a bit of time talking to him about Traveller at the one science convention I ever went to, which I believe was called Minicon. He had contributed a few adventures to Marc Miller’s excellent SF game, and I was interested in obtaining the video game rights to it. Elise was a bit of a character, as she attended the Minnesota writers workshop that consisted of Lois McMaster Bujold, Pat Wrede, Joel Rosenberg, Bruce Bethke, and Peg Kerr, among others, at which I was a guest for a few months in the mid-90s. However, I was always a bit confused as to what Elise was doing there, as she never wrote anything and didn’t appear to ever read anyone else’s work either. I don’t believe Mike aka John M. Ford belonged to the writer’s group, or if he did, he never showed up while I was there.
The one thing I remember about Elise was that she was what I consider to be a full-time professional feminist. So, if she says she didn’t know Gaiman was up to the various shenanigans of which he has been repeatedly accused, I have absolutely no doubt that she didn’t, because she struck me as the sort of woman that is obsessively interested in complaining about every form of male oppression. Which tells us that Gaiman was more than a bit circumspect in his predations, and that he was very much a self-controlled and intentional stalker of insecure and starstruck young women.
I’ve known Neil Gaiman since the very early nineties, when Mike said a friend was coming to a local book-centric fantasy convention and that we should look after him. Apparently he sounded trepidatious or something; Mike said something about how of course there were the comics but the friend said he’s only written one book and he only wrote half of that. Sure, Mike, we can make your friend welcome. So we did. I wrote elsewhere about how this left me for some years with a habit of checking in on Neil at events or when he had a recording session where I worked. I’d go by to see how he was doing, ask whether he’d eaten lately, see if he needed anything. I didn’t quite march over and tell him to put on a sweater, but it was like that. (He always had a leather jacket; a sweater wasn’t necessary.)
Over the decades there were shared meals in various cities, late night convention conversations, visits to the house, gatherings and parties, some with musicals written by Mike because Neil had made a typo on the invitation too good for Mike to resist. For many years I’ve navigated to Neil’s house by singing the American Pie filk Mike wrote about Neil’s invitation to his annual Guy Fawkes Day party which contained the driving directions. One verse ended “The tower lights will be alive; you’ll see the house as you arrive. But do not park upon the drive!” because that last bit was emphasized on the invitation.
Mike and Neil meant a lot to each other. Back in the day, watching the two of them talk writing at a restaurant or sushi bar or a room at a convention late at night was a true delight. When Mike died, Neil helped me through the aftermath. He gave one of the eulogies. He did kind things. He wrote a foreword for Mike’s posthumously published book Aspects which was pretty much another eulogy. He told me it was the hardest thing he ever had to write, and that we were very lucky to have had Mike in our lives.
One time at the house Neil gave me beeswax from his beehives. I used it to make pendants where meteorite dust was sealed into tiny corked glass bottles with the beeswax and sterling silver wire. Stardust in a bottle.
For decades, my metric for buying a new pair of glasses was that whichever one made me wonder what Neil would think of it was the one I’d probably buy.
He took me to my first Tori Amos concert many years ago.
So yeah, I’ve been friends with Neil for somewhere upwards of three decades.
After the news broke, I walked through my house, and every room had something Neil had written, or some art or music that he had introduced me to, or something he had given me. He’s woven through so many memories, with Mike and without. I looked through various correspondence, all the notes with “So much love to you,” all the snippets of news and shared silliness. Years. Decades.
And you know what? Not one bit of that cancels out any of what the survivors say. He’s been my friend for a long time. And I believe them. Which is a tangled set of feelings from one angle, but from another perspective what rings true to me is clear. I believe them.
When I see people saying “Oh, everybody knew,” I shake my head. Everybody did not know. I didn’t know. Nobody in any of the whisper networks told me, or warned me, or asked me to help anyone who had been hurt. And I never figured it out for myself. When the news broke, I was shocked.
Thinking back, I wondered whether anyone had thought he must be OK to be around because of people like me who were his friends. It’s happened before. I don’t like being used as cover… What I say to my friend when we next talk will be between me and him. What I most want to say is “You know fairy tales. You WRITE fairy tales. What did you think was going to happen??”
Hark! What’s that you hear? We submitted the hardcover edition of A SEA OF SKULLS to the printer last night. I’ll review them next week, and assuming they pass muster, we’ll release it into the distribution system. You’ll be able to purchase them from directly NDM Express, of course, as well as from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and your local bookseller. At 299,434 words, it’s a slightly longer book than ATOB in terms of word count, although with the much more efficient layout program we have now, it only clocks in at 760 pages. We do plan to do a revised version of ATOB so that the interior styles will match more precisely, but probably not for a month or two.
FJOTRA
Fjotra did not object, in principle, to learning about the gods of her new people. She had known from the time her father, the Skullbreaker, sent her to marry the heir to the southern kingdom, that she would have to learn many different new ways. The language was different, but she was young enough to learn it without difficulty. The food was considerably more abundant and flavorful, and her palate did not take long to adapt to the various meats and breads and sauces that were much to be preferred to the salted fish and charred game of her home islands. The clothing was lighter and more comfortable, and she adored wearing silk and cotton dresses in the place of the crude leather and canvas clothes that had been worn by Dalarn women since the coming of the Aalvarg had made raising sheep for wool and growing flax for linen impossible. Even the weather was much more gentle than it customarily was in the windswept Wolf Isles.
But despite the best efforts of Father Francois, who took great pains to talk her through the nonsense, she could make neither heads nor tails about the gods of the southerners. They worshipped a god who was both dead and alive, who was both father to himself and son to himself, and also took on a third form that was nevertheless the same as the other two. It wasn’t that the idea a god had different forms was foreign to her; the Aldaföðr had a hundred names, from Arnhöfði to Völundrómu, and each name represented a different aspect of her people’s greatest god. But despite his many aspects, he was merely the first among a host of gods, and Fjotra particularly venerated Valfreyja, the beautiful goddess who was queen of the Choosers of the Slain.
Continue reading “The Sound of a Sea”Even if Vox Day rather than Rachel Johnson had 1st reported the accusations against Neil Gaiman, I hope I would have believed K and Scarlett once I read/heard their testimony & the damning statements from whomever communicated Neil‘s response. I say that as someone who owes a lot to Neil.
You know it’s getting serious when SJWs are getting to the point that they would, even hypothetically, consider believing your favorite Dark Lord rather than the self-appointed social justice saint and LGBTQFP+ ally Neal Gaiman. The ironic thing is that I’m very far from the only one on the Right who knew that he was an overrrated creep all along. Consider what I wrote publicly back in 2018 when I first got into writing comics.
The reason so many people on the Right knew Gaiman was a creep while no one on the Left did is very simple. We believe the art reflects the artist. They reject the connection between the art and the artist.
And, obviously, they are wrong.
It is, however, mildly amusing to observe that the way SJWs ritually disavow a formerly beloved author is to repeat “F— Neal Gaiman” as if it is a formal anathema.
And I think we have a pretty good idea why, based on the arrest today of a top BBC news presenter:
Former BBC presenter Huw Edwards has been charged with child pornography offences after 37 indecent images were allegedly shared on a WhatsApp chat.
Scotland Yard confirmed the 62-year-old broadcaster was facing three charges of making indecent images of children between December 2020 and April 2022.
Police said Edwards was arrested on November 8 last year and charged just over a month ago on June 26 following authorisation from the Crown Prosecution Service.
Edwards – who helmed royal and political events at the BBC before resigning in April – has been bailed and will appear at Westminster Magistrates’ Court this Wednesday.
According to the charge sheet, Edwards is accused of having six category A images, 12 category B pictures and 19 category C photographs on WhatsApp.
And yes, it’s pretty much all of them. The evil guys don’t want to talk about the wicked guys, they prefer to systematically target the kind of people who will call them out for what they are.
And they tell you what they are. You just have to believe what you read. Consider the following, written by the accused himself, Mr. Tubcuddle:
Today I had my photo taken, for an American Library Association Series of author photo posters. (The poster won’t be out for months. You’ll need to get something else in the meantime, like their Sherman Alexie poster. Or their Orlando Bloom READ poster. Or their P. Craig Russell Sandman poster.) The photographer explained that she was going to do a straightforward photo (which she took), and that later she wants take some more imaginative ones — me looming from the darkness, me with paint or ink dripping from my hand, that kind of thing. And then she mentioned that she wanted to also take a photo of me as the mythological or literary character of my choice, and wondered who I’d like to be.
“Red Riding Hood’s Wolf,” I said, because I went perfectly blank, and that was the first thing that popped into my completely blank head. So I’m going to be Red Riding Hood’s Wolf in a photo, although this may not be obvious to anyone except the photographer and me.
Afterwards, she asked why…
I honestly didn’t know, so I started writing, to try and figure it out.
I think part of the idea of Red Riding Hood’s Wolf (why her wolf? Possibly because I was given a Ladybird book containing the story of Little Red Riding Hood, when I was an infant, and that was the first time I’d encountered the image of a wolf standing on his hind legs. He wore a jacket, at least in memory he did, in the paintings, and was talking comfortably to Red Riding Hood, who was chubby and pretty, and much older than I was, and I could absolutely understand what he saw in her, and for me Sondheim’s song “Hello Little Girl” was already beginning to come into existence, as text not subtext: obviously, this meeting was to be the start of a beautiful friendship, one that would last — girl and wolf — forever). The wolf in the story represents an awful lot of stuff — the danger and truth of stories, for a start, and the way they change; he symbolises — not predation, for some reason — but transformation: the meeting in the wild wood that changes everything forever. Angela Carter’s statement that “some men are hairy on the inside” comes to mind: as an image, in my head, it’s the wolf’s shadow that has ears and a tail, while the man in wolf form stands in his forest (and cities are forests too) and waits for the girl in the red cloak , picking flowers, to come along, or, hungrily, watches her leave…
There’s a woodcutter, and an axe, but at the start of the story, the wolf is waiting again, and he’s just fine.
When I was a boy, when I grew up I wanted to be a wolf. I never wanted to be a wolfman. I didn’t really want to be a werewolf, except for a few years in my early teens. I wanted to be a wolf, in a forest or in the world.
Later, as an adult, I remember encountering the story of Red Riding Hood in its original form, a French version that predated the cleaned-up ways of telling the tale I’d already encountered, and the bleak sexuality of the story came through: when she encounters the wolf in her grandmother’s bed, he eats and drinks her grandmother with her, then tells her to take off all her clothes and throw them on the fire — she wouldn’t be needing them any more, — and, finally, she joins him in the bed naked. And then, with no more ado, he eats her. And there the story stops, sometimes with a direct moral — not to talk to strangers — and sometimes without it. The story disturbed me, and I put it into Sandman, in the Serial Killers’ Convention story, where it represents a number of things at once, and is also itself.
The wolf defines Red Riding Hood. He makes the story happen. Without him, she’d just be another girl on her way to her grandmother’s house. And she’d leave her goodies behind, and come home, and no-one would ever have heard of her. But he’s not just her wolf: he’s all the wolves on the edge of the world, all the wolves in all the stories, all the wolves in all the dreams of wolves; flashing green eyes in the darkness, dangerously honest about what he wants: food, company, an appetite.
And if I could be any literary figure, I think, today, I’d be strangely happy to be him.
TRANSLATION: if they get him for breaking the law, it’s going to because the girl was underage.
UPDATE: Oh, the irony. I was banned from commenting at /r neilgaimanuncovered because the moderator read my biography on Wikipedia. La, whatever shall I do? Anyhow, I’ll continue to mine the subreddit for information, but now they won’t get what we dig up without reading VP and Fandom Pulse.
Feminists are such retards.
FEMINIST: Why won’t men speak out against rich, famous men attacking young women?
EVERY FEMINIST ALLY: -total silence-
VD and JDA: Rape and sexual assault are bad. Neil Gaiman is also bad.
FEMINIST: Shut up shut up shut up! Not you, you’re too evil! Now, why won’t men speak out against rich, famous men attacking young women?
UPDATE: The poster and photo referenced in Gaiman’s blog post. He’s just one fedora short of euphoria. Now you know why only losers and overweight, insecure goth girls ever thought he was cool.
