If the multitude of mankind knew of my existence, they would do as you do and arm themselves for my destruction. Shall I not then hate them who abhor me? I will keep no terms with my enemies. I am miserable and they shall share my wretchedness. Yet it is in your power to recompense me, and deliver them from an evil which it only remains for you to make so great that not only you and your family, but thousands of others, shall be swallowed up in the whirlwinds of its rage. Let your compassion be moved and do not disdain me. I was benevolent and good. Misery made me a fiend. Make me happy and I shall again be virtuous.
— The Creature speaking to Frankenstein, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
Director Guillermo del Toro has released Frankenstein’s Creature painted in blood red, iridescent greens, and smokey grey flesh crossing the icy North. His gift to us? Time. He unfolds the story slowly letting us watch the symphonic transformation of human meat into the flesh of the newborn — yowling in its discomfort as the Creature processes the strangeness of animation. The physical sensation of pain and the subsequent fear informs the Creature’s emotional development and his motor responses. As viewers we first see him as a powerful lunging monster and we are afraid. By reorganizing Shelley’s novel for film, del Toro focuses our attention on transformation of both maker and monster. It is a study in how unchecked power unleashes unintended horrors. It is an epic love poem written to creation. I was left thinking about butterfly wings and the impact of what we put into the world.
This All Hallow’s Eve marks seasonal transmutation — we are stirring the alchemist’s pot. Trees are filled with boldly colored leaves, children are costumed to scare away the spirits, and the moon is draped in fog. Migrating birds are black against grey skies. The changing season is painful. Cold winds wither the last of tender plants as they fall to the ground. Tonight, we acknowledge the dead with both our fear and our wonder. We sink into winter stories, cocooning to the promise that come spring, we will release with fresh wings.
Autumn’s Treats by R. Miranda
The costume-clad children hold tight to their bags
As they brave ill-lighted streets of spooky decor.
Some armed with pranks, and others with gags,
As they ring and they knock on each shuttered door.
Celestial Alchemy by Dustin Smith
I wanted celestial alchemy.
I imagined gilded lies,
Turning stardust into shackles.
Axiom of Change by Anonymous
From water to land, frog.
From land to air, butterfly.
Frog vox populi, shunned.
Butterfly vox populi, shunned.
Who I Am Becoming by Jeffery Williams
There are three aspect of who today
I become. But there is one driven
purpose that is a desire of quality.
I Truly Am by Michael Wise
I lived a life created to survive.
So many roads and city lights.
So many masks worn.
So many Me’s.
My Life Matters by Robert Mullins
I have finally become a man who is honest, caring, and friendly. I can now way that I am proud of the man I have become and that my life is full of purpose …
Transformation is hard work, lonely work. We are forced to carve away parts of ourselves that no longer serve us. And we miss them. Let’s end with a stanza of Joy Harjo’s poem She Had Some Horses which led us to a wonderful conversation at Deer Ridge in Madras this week:
She had horses who whispered in the dark, who were afraid to speak.
She had horses who screamed out of fear of the silence, who
carried knives to protect themselves from ghosts.
She had horses who waited for destruction.
She had horses who waited for resurrection.
Trick or treat. | TDS
Beautiful!