Critical appendix to "Lucile"

For those who are interested...

Critical Appendix:

The story preceding this appendix was inspired by, and to some extent modelled upon, Bram Stoker’s ‘Dracula’. There are several elements to this story that have been echoed and amplified from Dracula, particularly the concerns about the “New Woman”, but also the gothic motif and fractured method of storytelling.

The preceding short story is much less subtle in regards to its depiction of fears about feminism than is Dracula. The “evil creature” Bethany (whose name was inspired by Countess Elizabeth Bathory [Creed, 1993, p.59]), has all the tools that would render a man useless. She has the ability to entice any woman to love her, she is able to impregnate women with her somewhat phallic finger, vasectomise a man, and ultimately destroy the supposedly sacred union that is marriage. She seems determined to create a race of super-females and eliminate the need for men at all; to overthrow patriarchal society.

Bethany is powerful but beautiful, yet also sinister and blood-thirsty. Unlike Dracula, Bethany does not act out of the desire for survival. Whilst the only indication of her age is the many rings she wears (and presumably plundered from numerous couples before Lucile and Ian), her actions are primarily to change the society in which she lives. She has a goal that she is prepared to work for as doggedly as may be necessary, because she is passionate about it – much like early feminists. The fact that her goal is an obscene and unhealthy one is supposed to make light of the irrational fears of the somewhat ignorant (and possibly sexist) men of the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries.

The decision to portray Bethany as a lesbian (who only bedded men to emasculate them) was made to really exaggerate the all-powerful female society that could result should she get her way. She is a very sensual and seductive temptress, in the vain of the scores of other lesbian vampires before her. To be able to lure wives from their husbands, to corrupt love, was intended to be a particularly alarming trait; to make her appear a viable threat to society.

Her destruction of the marriage institution was symbolised by her taking of wedding rings, and in the very second scene (which chronologically follows the bedroom scene) after it is presumed that Bethany and Lucile have been intimate, Bethany offers Lucile a ring of her own. Even the slight masculinity shown by Bethany in that scene does not mask the suggestion of gay marriage, something that would be plausible in Bethany’s utopia of females. This suggestion further promoted the preposterous notion that males would not be necessary in the world should Bethany (or the New Woman) get what she wanted.

The final symbolic aspect of Bethany’s behaviour is that she penetrates both men and women. She does this via the navel with her incredibly sharp index finger, which is her signifier of power (as she uses it as a weapon against Ian and his sword throughout the climactic scenes of the story). I chose the navel because it is the source of life for unborn children in the womb. The re-opening of the navel seemed to tie in with the giving of life, or the un-doing of it (depending on the gender of the penetrated). It was also a part of the body that could be penetrated regardless of whether it was a male or female.

In another comparison, Dracula left two snakebite-esque holes in the necks of his victims, whereas Bethany used her finger to intentionally mark Ian with a scar, to remind him of the permanence of his impotency and defeat in a manner of speaking. Further echoing the concerns about the New Woman – that things would never be the same and that they would be considerably worse! Ian’s refusal to lay down his armour was supposed to reflect his refusal to bow to what Bethany represented for him as a male and the society he lived in.

The character of Lucile is the classical innocent, apparently timid woman whose passion and desire is awakened by Bethany. She shares a similar name to Dracula’s Lucy because of that fact. The escape of Ian and Vincent from Bethany’s clutches, was a celebration of the husband’s commitment to his wife. It was Ian’s valiant efforts and Lucile’s natural affection toward her child that allowed them (the first ever couple) to not be completely annihilated by Bethany.

As opposed to Dracula, the preceding story does not result in the vanquishment of the evil creature. It is hinted that Bethany lives on, that Lucile is unable to overcome her, and that consequently, Ian and the offspring of Bethany and Lucile live in danger. It was also hinted that perhaps Bethany killed all of her male offspring because they would work against her ideals, and that Vincent might be society’s best chance of overcoming Bethany and all those like her.

Lucile is a crude concoction derived from Dracula and other vampire tales that pushes the fear of the New Woman to its most extreme edge, which is more likely to be understood as parody rather than a misogynist text in this day and age.

"Lucile" (working title)

Part Two.

“I’ve caught her no less than five times without her wedding ring. I don’t know what to think Margaret… I feel us growing ever more distant with each passing hour.” Ian cast his gaze off into the distance.
“The change in her has been marked, no doubt, which is why I was eager to talk to you today. Luce has been a dear friend to me since we were but infants.”
“Do you know anything? Anything at all?” Ian looked at her pleadingly. Desperate.
Margaret shuffled her feet under the table, and took a sip from her teacup.
“I may. Or I may not – it could just be nothing.” She glanced furtively around the tavern.
Ian leaned in towards her, “What is it Margaret? I must know!”
“Well, I overheard her one day when she was visiting my home. She thought I’d left the room, and it was the oddest of things – she began talking to herself but I could not quite determine what she was saying. So I peered around the corner into the room whereupon I saw her clutching a ring, and mouthing a name…”
At that moment a woman walked into the tavern, she drew Ian’s attention immediately, but Margaret seemed not to notice her. “Perhaps I misheard, but I am certain my eyes saw truly. It was not her wedding band in her hands…” The woman approached the counter allowing Ian to see all of her face; he recognised her instantly and drew in a short sharp breath. “And it sounded like Lucile was uttering the name Bethany over and over with a most unholy desire.”
Ian’s eyes shot back to Margaret with alarm then lingered again over the woman at the counter.
“I must go now Margaret, thank you… Thank you for everything.” Ian mumbled, awkwardly kissing her hand and hurriedly getting to his feet. He couldn’t be sure of it, but he thought he saw the woman at the counter smile as he rushed out the door.

*

Aug 27

I feel doubly alive this morning – perhaps it is because of the precious miracle inside me. Oh how glorious everything is! Thankfully the pain in my navel has subsided to a dull ache, and the scar has all but completely healed… [An aside, this pen is much more awkward to hold than it once was]. Today I must see Bethany; I yearn to be with her. On the other hand there is some unpleasant business to carry out today as well. I must tell Ian that this child is his own. Bethany was adamant that I do so, for she thought it best not to reveal everything to him. I must say, a mixture of horror and fear did overcome me when I first learnt, so the decision sits well with me. Nevertheless I have come to see the beauty in it all. Bethany is like no other. Perhaps in time I shall tell Ian the truth, but for now all I can think of is the marvel growing within me. Bethany said that I should expect it to arrive much sooner than is usual. Whilst I don’t completely understand, I do not care.

Everything is rosy.

Lucile.

*

A blonde woman peered into a mirror and checked her hair and face in the muted light. She tossed her head back so that long straight hair lifted back off her face, then ran her fingers over lips. Satisfied with her appearance she looked back at the bed. A man lay there; his body mostly covered by a rumpled dark sheet. Only his arm dangled over the edge of the bed. A single drop of blood fell from his fingers to the floor. She slunk over to the bedside table, picked up a ring and slid it on her little finger, smiled contentedly, and left.

*

Bethany escorted a panting Lucile to a room she had never seen before, and directed her to a pink-sheeted bed that had restraints at wrist and ankle-level. A look of confusion occupied Lucile’s face. “It’s for the good of us both,” was Bethany’s only explanation. Thunder seemed to cause the entire room to shake.
“Well, alright then.” Lucile lowered herself down onto the bed with some help from Bethany. “I am so excited about this. I hope it’s a girl like we’ve imagined.”
“I would hope so. I’d hate to… To be disappointed.”
Suddenly, Bethany quickly looked to the door and listened carefully.
“Wha-what is it?” Lucile said between breaths.
“Him,” she snarled. “I will be back sweet Lucile.” Bethany fixed the restraints and departed the room faster than Lucile had ever seen anybody move.

*

He swung his sword in a wide-sweeping arc, she was just too fast, and it was all he could do to fend her off. The cold marble floor was now well and truly blood-spattered. His stamina had been exhausted; resolve was all that kept him going.
“You won’t… You can’t…” He collapsed to his knees, but continued to swing his sword wildly about him. But it was pointless. She appeared before him, dodged one swing to the left, and then kicked the sword from his hands. Unbeknownst to either of them, a haggard Lucile appeared at the top of the staircase, cradling a small bundle in her arms.
“I would pity you Ian, if you were worthy of my pity. You are not even a man anymore.” She kicked him in the face. He fell backwards to the floor. “I took away your potency; of course I’d be able to overcome a pathetic sword.” She slashed at his thigh with her blade-sharp finger and he cried out in agony. “Let’s see if my mark is still upon you, shall we?” She leant over him and undid his body armour. Lifting up his shirt, his navel was revealed – it was severely scarred, and a notable x-shape was etched over the top of it. “Were you to live for a long time that would have stayed with you all your days – a constant reminder of your ineptitude and submission to the new breed of womankind.”
“Do what you will to me, just don’t harm Lucile…” He clutched his leg, trying to stem the flow of blood. Bethany seemed to enjoy watching him suffer.
“That will depend entirely upon her. If she bears a girl then all will be fine, but if she gives birth to a boy...” she spat the word with animosity, “then they both must perish. There cannot be males of my kind, and any woman who bears a male is polluted.” Lucile recoiled in horror.
“What are you?”
“I am precisely that which will soon make your populace the other. Now, farewell Ian.” She loomed over him and made to slice open his throat.
“Bethany stop.” Lucile said from directly behind her.
Bethany froze. “But Lucile my sweet, he will cause too much trouble.” She turned to face her, “And where is our…”
“Our son?”
Bethany’s eyes turned dark. Malevolent.
“Lucile…” Ian reached out a bloody hand toward her.
“Silence!” Bethany screamed, then the next second she stabbed at Lucile’s chest with her finger, but Lucile was fast enough to avoid it, catch her hand, and sever two of Bethany’s ringed digits with her own index finger. Bethany screamed again, a look of horror on her face.
“I’m sorry Bethany, but how do you think I got out of my shackles?” She then grabbed hold of Bethany and with incredible speed and force ran her into a stone wall. She slid down to the ground, limp.
Hurrying back to Ian, Lucile began to sob. “Oh Ian I am so, so sorry…” She lifted him up into her arms, and carried him up the stairs in one fluent, spectacularly fast motion. She stopped before a closet and opened it slowly. There lay a baby boy. She took him in her arms and pressed his little body close against her. “Ian, it is so much to ask, but will you take my baby? Take him and leave for far, far away. He is mine, but I want him to be ours. Please, take him and love him.”
“Why can’t you - ?”
“Bethany is far from dead, Ian,” she interrupted, “and I will not be able to defeat her, but I can keep her at bay long enough for you to escape. Can you walk? Here.” She swiftly tore off a part of her dress to make a bandage for his leg.
“I will take him and protect him and love him. For as long as is possible.”
“Thank you.” Lucile tenderly kissed her baby on the forehead and placed him in Ian’s arms. Then, without another word, she drew a chain from around her neck and placed it around his. Their wedding rings. They embraced, only to be startled by an ear-shattering scream from down the stairs. “Now go that way,” she beckoned further along the corridor. “You will find your way out.” She blew them a kiss and with that she turned and descended the stairs, finger at the ready.
Ian hobbled off with all the speed he could muster, baby in arms, and wedding rings around his neck.

*

“Lucile.” The boy read from Ian’s etching in the dirt.
“Yes.” Ian was now staring into the fire, the light from the flames licking at his scarred face.
“That’s mum’s name isn’t it?”
“Yes.” He absent-mindedly felt for the diary he carried with him always in his inner breast pocket.
“Do I look like her?”
Ian examined the boy – his blond hair, dark eyes and angular jaw looked nothing like Lucile’s soft features. “Sort of.” He wondered what would become of the boy. Then, again, contemplated the danger they were in. “Son, I just want you to know that I will stand by you until my last breath, whenever that might be.”
“I know Dad, I never believe the blonde lady who tells me you’re evil in my dreams. I don’t like her much. I think one day, I’ll make her be good.” The boy shifted around trying to find a comfortable sleeping position. “Good night Dad.”
Ian continued to sit. Stunned. Wounded. Mournful. Hopeful.
“Good night Vincent.”

"Lucile" [gothic horror (parody?), dale style]

Part One of Two.

“Lay your armour down,” she smouldered, seductively fierce. Her eyes wicked. “You’re only delaying the inevitable.” She beckoned for him to approach with an impossibly long and powerful finger that came to a deadly point at the nail.
Lightning flashed, dazzling, momentarily illuminating the cavernous room. She was gone. “Inevitable.” Her sultry voice now came from the stairs. He turned with the deafening clap of thunder. She cackled soundlessly, terrifyingly, her bare finger outstretched, nay, thrust towards his quivering soul.

* * *

“Bethany, I simply cannot accept this; it is just too nice. Were I to wear it… No, I am not worthy. I could not do it justice.”
“Nonsense Lucile, from the moment I first espied you I have thought of nothing else besides how stunning it should look upon your finger. And how stunning you should look wearing this promise of mine.”
“Oh Bethany…”

* * *

“I am not the one whom you should blame, Lucile. You are so often out these days that you’ve made it terribly hard for me t-to, well, keep my… eyes from wandering.”
“Ian! What are you saying?”
“Where do you go, Luce? Where?”
“I’ve told you, with mother so sick I’ve got to carry out far more errands than before.”
“Do you know how long it’s been since…”
“Plus I’ve got to be up to date with all the journals for my studies.”
“We haven’t lain together as husband and wife for almost two months…”
“And my studies are ever so important to me.”
They stood silently for some time, a great distance between them.
“Luce?”
“What?” Not meeting his eyes.
“Where’s your wedding band?”

* * *

“Warm yourself by the fire son, the morning will come soon. I’ll tell you stories of a better time, before we packed our bags and left all this…” he motioned down toward a valley and the glow of a small village, “…behind us in the dust. We had a place that we could call home and a life no one could touch.” He took a stick from the fire and delicately drew a name in the dirt.

* * *

“I will not let you do this.” He got to his feet and once more took a step towards her.
“You’re stubborn and archaic. You don’t see the scope of all this.”
Blood seeped from long, thin cuts all over his face and arms.
“Your vile blood is leaking from you. Don’t you see this is futile? Now, lay your armour down.” His fingers hovered over the clasp that held a crude iron plate of body armour, which protected only his torso, in place. Her eyes widened; her mouth twisted into a menacing smile.
He then tightened it, and stared straight through her.
Fury. “Lay your armour down!”
He took another step in her direction, brandishing his sword.

* * *

“I don’t mean to intrude, Bethany, but why do you wear so many rings?” Lucile was holding Bethany’s right hand in both of her own, examining it closely. She wore at least two rings on each of her fingers except for the elongated index.
“My rings are like beautiful mementos, my dearest Lucile. They to me represent something of extraordinary significance – the quashing of the distasteful and inferior.” Bethany sidled across the expansive four-poster bed further so she and Lucile sat hip to hip. “And therewith, the birth of the clean, the effervescent.”
Lucile continued to stare at Bethany’s hand, seemingly not phased by her proximity. “They’re darkly beautiful… Some of them almost look like wedding rings.”
“May I see yours?”
Lucile blushed and smoothed over the lap of her floral dress, “I don’t have one.”
Bethany tenderly placed her hand on Lucile’s shoulder and smiled knowingly, “Then what is it that hangs from the end of the chain around your neck you think I know not of?”
“Bethany, I…”
“It’s of no consequence Lucile, don’t trouble yourself. Now, may I see it?”
She nodded and Bethany slowly reached under her sleeve. She then took hold of a long silver chain and raised it up from where it had been dangling down the front of Lucile’s chest. A gold wedding ring was revealed. Lucile was excited by Bethany’s soft touch.
Bethany brought the ring closer to her own chest, causing Lucile to turn and face her. She held it between two of her fingers and made startlingly fierce eye contact with Lucile. Sultry. Her sensuality was undeniable. Lucile seemed entranced as Bethany reached up and stroked the side of her face with her one bare finger...

my attempt at verse

"Awayward"

Walking home
finally
a 30 minute stumble
after an age at work
painstaking

Music in one ear
rise against rise against
eyes closed
propelled by sound
wired for motion

Denise
the queen of complaining
her badge her tiara
her glasses her scepter
thoughts of regicide
consuming

another hill
a different mountain to climb
one foot
attached to one leg
attached to the world
the trying world

gnawing in my gut
beavers on my inside?
throbbing in my back
ninjas stabbing there?
no
just Denise

Touched (Emotionally)

Lyrics:

Dear Bobbie,
Do you remember when you were young and very pretty? I do.
I remember pleated skirts, black and white sattle shoes.
Do you remember dancing that night?
I do, I still think of you when we dance,
Although we cant jitterbug as we did then.

Do you remember when,
How long has it been?
1960 you opened my blue eyes,
To see a whole new life.

Do you remember when,
I told you this that night,
That if you're by my side,
When everyday begins,
I'll fall for you again.
I made a promise when,
I told you this that night.

I'll be fine.
When I die, then I die loving you.
It's alright, I'll be fine.
When I die then I die loving you,
Loving you, loving you.

Do you remember the times we would give up on each other and get back together.
Then we finally was married in 1949.
We drove the yellow convertible on our honeymoon.
Do you remember? I do.

Life has led us here,
Together all these years.
This house that we have made,
Holds twenty-thousand days.
And memories we've saved,
Since life has lead us here.

And I'll be fine.
Cause when I die, then I die loving you.
It's alright, I'll be fine.
Cause when I die then I die loving you,
Loving you, loving you.

I'm coming home to you,
Stepping off my shoes.
Resting in my chair.
See you standing there,
The silver in your hair.

I'm coming home to you,
When I lay tonight, when I close my eyes,
I know the sun will rise,
Here or the next life.
As long as your still mine, then its alright.

I'll be fine
Cause when I die, then I die loving you
It's alright, I'll be fine
Cause when I die then I die loving you
Loving you, loving you

You have gray hair now,
But you're a beautiful woman,
And the years have been good to both of us.
We walk slow now, but we still have each other.
The glue of love is still bonding us together.
That is what I remember. Do you remember?