The Bloody Chamber

"The Bloody Chamber" is a collection of stories exploring traditional tales where the woman comes out the worse, or is stripped of agency. Carter places the (usually female) protagonists at the center of the decisions and power that move the action or resolve the story.

The title story is a re-imagining of Bluebeard in which the young bride is a fully fleshed character rather than a cipher, and female family connections prove crucial. Puss In Boots (which is wonderfully witty and bawdy) positions the female love interest as a co-conspirator rather than an object. The Lady Of The House Of Love presents a vampire queen with consciousness and horror for her situation, neatly skewering the "predatory sexual woman" theme of more traditional vampire stories. An inside-out Red Riding Hood reveals a virgin who is no morsel ripe for the plucking.

The writing evokes texture and scent with lush descriptions of soil, skin, blood, even dust in the air. It's infused throughout with sensual themes -- this is a universe in which women have sexual appetites and lust is no more a sin than any other hunger. It leans toward the dark, which I liked because traditional fairy tales have always also been dark and often grisly.

Read it on a night in with wind howling around the house, in a scented bath with candles and incense, or in an apple orchard golden with the smell of fruit and grass in the sun. And take your time.

According to the introduction by Helen Simpson in my copy of Angela Carter's "The Bloody Chamber," the author herself is adverse to the description of this anthology as "retold, adult fairytales." Instead she claims that: "my intention was not to do "versions"...but to extract the latent content from the traditional stories and to use it as the beginnings of new stories."

That is as may be, but the truth is that the simplest way to describe "The Bloody Chamber" is to say that it is a collection of reworked fairytales geared toward adult readership. Ten in all, each one is based on an old fairytale, and Carter explores her own personal ideas and understanding of these familiar stories in her "new stories;" being particularly concerned with the metaphorical meanings that are inherent in each one.

Perhaps the best way to describe them is to say that they have echoes of the old symbolism and imagery of the old tales, but act as "remakings" rather than "retellings." As such, what is gathered here is a series of stories that delve into themes of sexuality, femininity, mutability, transformation and the capability of humankind for change and growth. It is not for the faint-of-heart reader, for often these stories can be violent, crude or grotesque. At their core, all fairytales are about two things: life and death, and in "The Bloody Chamber" they are transposed and presented as sex and violence.

Yet there is an hypnotic quality to them in their atmosphere and resonance that kept me hooked (and certainly leaves room for multiple re-reads).

Carter's language is opulent, rich, sensual and complex. That sentence is a preview of what you'll find in this book, as Carter seems to adhere to the general rule that no noun must go without an adjective - or several. Yet it never seems to tip into purple prose, not even when she's comparing water-stains on the dark red wallpaper to the indentations left by lovers on black satin sheets. (Of course, if any of that just made your eyes hurt, then it's certainly best to give "The Bloody Chamber" a miss).

Yet it didn't bother me at all: perhaps it was Carter's mastery of language, or the fact that sensory pleasures are such an important part of the narratives, or perhaps such dense prose just works better in short-story form. Like eating dark chocolate or drinking red wine: you can't have too much of it, but it works extremely well in small doses.

Exploring these stories on your own makes up most of the enjoyment of the book, so I won't give too much away in regards to the content of the stories. However, they range in length from the almost-novella size of the titular story "The Bloody Chamber", based on the story of Bluebeard and his murdered wives, to the page-long "The Snow Child", a sort-of inverse version of Snow White in which the maiden is born out of her father's desire as opposed to her mother's.

There are the comparable "The Courtship of Mr Lyon" and "The Tiger's Bride," both of which are based on Beauty and the Beast, and both providing alternative versions of the final metamorphosis scene for your consideration. These are followed by the only truly comedic effort in the collection, "Puss-in-Boots", narrated by the cat himself in raucous, witty prose as he helps his master win a lady's heart. If a cat could talk, it would sound like this, and he has some rather wonderful gems of wisdom to share: "All good women have a missionary streak, sir; convince her that her orifice is your salvation and she's yours."

"The Erl-King" and "The Lady of the House of Love" are stories centered around a mystical, powerful character; male in the former and female in the latter. Both are based not so much on fairytales as they are on the Germanic/Romanian legends of dark elves and vampires. As Helen Simpson puts it, in each story: "lovers are lethal, traditional romantic patterns kill, and sex leads to death."

Finally there is a "trilogy" of sorts that ends the collection: "The Werewolf," "The Company of Wolves," and "Wolf-Alice," which deals with (obviously) the legend of the werewolf and the fairytale of Little Red Riding Hood. They give us three very different and intriguing points-of-view as to the nature of this particular creature, based around the archetypal figures of the wolf, the old woman, and the child. Incidentally, The Company of Wolves was adapted into a rather fascinating film that is also recommended to those who enjoy this collection.

One thing that does emerge very clearly from these stories is the subversive role of women in breaking their traditional fairytale forms. No longer passive objects of desire, they here become self-knowledgable saviours or furious harbingers of justice. And yet even then these subversions are surprising in the way they unfold. In such cases, saving someone can be an act of violence, and terrible vengeance can be construed as a merciful act.

In short: this is an anthology of intriguing, thought-provoking stories that invokes the landscapes and imagery of fairytales, a healthy dose of Gothic sensibilities and Carter's own brand of morbid beauty. I'd certainly recommend it, for though it is certainly not for everyone, it should be reasonably obvious from the outset as to whether these grim, dark fairytales would appeal to you or not.

This is the first I've read of Angela Carter and the book is wonderful. Amazingly beautifully written revisioned fairy tales that put women characters in control of the action. A consciously re-imagined set of stories where there is no damsel in distress - poetic, beautiful, and everything you wish those stories you grew up on showed you long ago.

Years ago, I stumbled onto one of the short stories in this book in another anthology, and loved it. It was called the Erl-King, but I couldn't remember the author, and was never able to find it again. I ordered The Bloody Chamber for the retelling of the Bluebeard story, and was thrilled to find that the Erl-King was one of the other stories.

All the stories in this book are wonderful. They are all dark and bloody as any good fairy tale is, and beautifully written. I pined over the Erl-king for years, so it was a joy to reread it, and to find the other tales inside just as good.

This is bad writing at its worst because it is apparent that it could have maybe been good.

The imagery is dull, cliché, and facile. The stories are predictable and, worst of all, uninteresting. Everything is over-stylized, obvious, and with very little sense of anything novel or surprising. In reality, they are unintelligent and prepubescent. In general, a waste of time.