A Radioactive Movie Review

March 7, 2021 • No Comments

Released in 2019/20, directed by Marjane Satrapi, with Rosamund Pike as Marie Curie and Sam Riley as Pierre Curie

Description: After the death of her beloved husband, Marie Curie’s commitment to science remains strong as she tries to explain previously unknown radioactive elements. But it soon becomes terrifyingly evident that her work could lead to applications in medicine that could save thousands of lives — or applications in warfare that could destroy them by the billions.

My review:

I was curious about this movie from the moment I heard about it. Marie Curie is a fascinating figure, but not one that I knew much about. I came away with a much better idea of how she discovered the djinn of radioactivity and what happened next, but it was a mixed experience.

First off, this was a beautiful movie filled with lush visual detail. Rosamund Pike gave a splendid performance as Marie Curie, who proved to be a prickly, brilliant, egotistical but ultimately sympathetic woman far ahead of her time. Sam Riley played the appealing husband. At times it felt like the story leaned on their romance to give shape to the plot, but that only lasted (obviously) until Pierre Curie’s death. After that, the plot scampered off with more enthusiasm than focus.

The difficulty with telling a story about a real person and real events is that life doesn’t follow a three-act structure. As a result, the film splooshed out of its narrative bounds in an attempt to capture events not fitting the timeline. The assorted uses of radiation—from medicine to Hiroshima to Arizona bomb tests—come stampeding across the screen at random moments. A few passages got too arty—and kind of trippy—for any real coherence.

Overall, it felt as if the film wasn’t entirely sure what it was trying to be. A romance? A biography? A social commentary about the dangers of uncontrolled scientific inquiry? A super cool montage with mushroom clouds?

To be fair, I still enjoyed the ride. After all, we are talking about a Victorian-set film about a strong and opinionated woman of science. I wish however, the writers had formed a better idea of what they wanted to say about the subject. There was a lot to like here, especially Pike’s performance, but the film seemed to get in its own way.

Recommended, but best when in an easy-going frame of mind, possibly with wine involved.

Rapping with the Dead

Emma Jane Holloway
February 7, 2021 • No Comments

Who doesn’t love a good coincidence, especially when it involves ghosts?

Recently I was blathering with a friend about contacting the dead (as one does while folding laundry). I’m stocking up on ideas for a new story, and it was an unplanned but fruitful topic. Literally minutes later, I got an email for a virtual event.

Cue Weird Homes Tour and Atlas Obscura featuring Brandon Hodge. Hodge owns an Austin, Texas residence stuffed with Spiritualism-related objects. For one very fun hour, Hodge took viewers through his collection of antique planchettes, Ouija boards, and other paraphernalia.

It was like a gift-wrapped package falling through the monitor and into my lap. Spiritualism fascinates me, and Hodge’s enthusiasm and fab website are an ideal introduction to the subject.

A Victorian Obsession

The Spiritualist movement gained traction in the mid-1800s. It gave us mediums, automatic writing, ectoplasm, spirit photography, and table-rapping.

Essentially, it’s summoning the dead for a chat. Believers included the rich and famous, from Lucy Maud Montgomery to Arthur Conan Doyle.

For a buttoned-up society focused on industry, cataloguing, and petticoats for the piano legs, it’s interesting how Victorians embraced the paranormal. Their enthusiasm can be seen by the many, many periodicals dedicated to the topic, such as The British Spiritual Telegraph.

Celebrity

Mediums achieved a kind of celebrity, like the Fox sisters in America. Some grew rich. Others were ingloriously debunked for coughing up gauze

“ectoplasm” or manipulating the seance props with wires.

The majority of mediums were women. This was one place she could take center stage without question. And, since the bereaved were willing to pay, she could also make a good living.

Spiritualism carried on—unsurprisingly—through the disasters of WWI and the Spanish flu epidemic until fading in the 1930s.

Stories

I’ve used the highlights of Spiritualism before. In A Study in Ashes, Evelina and Tobias attend a séance. At the time, I’d wanted to delve more deeply into the subject, but that wasn’t part of Evelina’s story. She simply paved the way for more.

Now—thanks to a chance lockdown presentation—I’m anxious to do more research. After all, what’s more perfect than something that is Victorian, paranormal, and involves intriguing devices? I’m positive there is a role for a planchette or two in my Hellion House series.

Gluten-Free Almond Chocolate Chip Cookies

February 5, 2021 • 2 Comments

Not all gluten-free products belong on a diet plan. Some recipes are shamelessly loaded with sugar and butter, like this one. Needless to say, it’s so yummy even the most ardent junk food addict will enjoy it.

Gluten-Free Almond Chocolate Chip Cookies

Preheat oven to 350F

Cream:

3/4 cup of sugar (try ½ cup brown to ¼ white)

2/3 cup soft butter

I used a food processor with a mixer blade for this—thoroughly creaming the butter makes a better cookie.

Mix in:

½ tablespoon vanilla

2 eggs

½ tsp salt

½ tsp baking soda

3 cups of almond flour

1 cup milk chocolate chips

Spoon onto greased cookie sheets. These cookies spread quite a bit, so make them small and give them lots of room. In my oven, 12 minutes was the perfect time to get a golden-brown cookie with a crispy outside and soft inside. When the cookie sheet comes out of the oven, allow it to cool slightly before transferring the cookies to a cooling rack.

Savory Cheese Shortbread

January 24, 2021 • 8 Comments

While tea is essential in all months, winter highlights its restorative properties. And with tea comes biscuits—spirits and stomachs need a boost in the twilight hours of the afternoon.

This is a savory shortbread recipe that’s been in my family for at least three generations–I don’t know its origins, but it was a frequent flyer at my grandmother’s table. It typically appeared at Christmas, but it’s good all year around. I made it recently and was reminded why I liked it so much—it pairs well with a strong English Breakfast style tea without being lost or overwhelming the flavor of the tea. In other words, this shortbread has personality.

A note on the cheese: MacLaren’s Imperial Sharp Cheddar is an iconic Canadian grocery item. In fact, there is an early version of the container in the Canadian Museum of History. For substitutions, keep in mind that it’s very sharp and stiffer than a true cream-cheese style product. The internet recommends Black Creek Sharp Cheddar Cold Pack Cheese as an alternative, but I’ve never tried it myself. If you do, please let me know how it turns out.

Ingredients:

½ pound McLaren’s Imperial Cheese
½ pound butter
2 cups flour
2 tablespoons light brown sugar

Mix ingredients either by hand or in a food processor and knead slightly until it can be formed into a roll and sliced. Make a ball from each slice and press with a fork. Bake on ungreased cookie sheets at 250 F for an hour (or until the bottom browns a bit). Cool on a rack before storing in a tin.

It’s all in the cards!

Emma Jane Holloway
August 20, 2020 • No Comments

Would you like me to tell your fortune? For a silver coin, I will consult my tarot cards. Ah, yes, I foresee you’re about to encounter a large to-be-read pile…

I imagined a unique set of tarot cards while planning the Hellion House series. The images in the deck came to me very strongly while I was first making notes about the books. Scorpion Dawn, Leopard Ascending, Chariot Moon—these are all airships, but those vessels got their names from the cards. Fortune’s Eve recounts the first time that tarot comes into play. For those who like to follow story breadcrumbs, pay attention to that scene.

Of course, it had to be a deck I’d never seen before, which meant recording the entire thing as it appeared in the story a bit at a time. Here’s what I know so far…

Suites

The deck has five suites (sky, fire, earth, water, spirit) of thirteen cards each. Each suite relates to an aspect of being. For instance, earth rules the material plane.

Images

Most of the images on the cards are single animals, plants, or other straightforward objects.

Readings

To cast a reading, lay out the cards in a triangle. They naturally fall into the rising, descending, or hidden positions on the three sides. Therefore, the leopard in an ascending position means that its influence is on the rise and all that fiery animal passion is going a-prowling. The closer it is to the apex of the triangle, the more pronounced its energy will be. If the leopard is on the other side of the triangle, it would indicate the hunt was waning or going awry. If the card was at the bottom of the triangle, it would mean kitty’s energy was turned inward, either asleep or rebuilding for a future time. A fulsome reading would involve a dozen or so cards.

Scorpion Dawn refers to the first awakening of the protective scorpion. The legend has it that when the mighty hunter Orion slaughtered far too many animals, the goddess sent the lowly scorpion to protect her creatures. Too small to be noticed, the scorpion nonetheless poisoned Orion with a sting to the heel. Never underestimate the little guy—or girl—especially if she gets this card.

The main function of the cards in the story is as a means of exploring the characters and their drives. Like all such elements in fiction, it’s a seasoning and not a main dish. Too much and it gets awkward, but it’s a useful way to highlight a moment here and there.

Custom illustration by Leah Friesen

Fish and Trips

July 3, 2020 • No Comments

Every so often I come across a reference to something that sends my brain scurrying down a rabbit hole. As a fantasy writer, I particularly love twists on everyday items that could otherwise slide into an ordinary social landscape. Food is a favorite, because we all encounter it on a daily basis and there are oh, so many possibilities.

Imagine yourself at a feast—maybe a good ol’ grimdark medieval banquet with dogs under the table chewing on Bob’s remains (what the guests haven’t already eaten). Or, perhaps you’re attending a prettier version of the above at the Sun King’s court, or even a Victorian soiree with champagne on ice and … someone serves a platter of fish, prized for its hallucinogenic properties. Chaos ensues.

Apparently, this is a thing. Several species of fish contain hallucinogenic toxins. The best known is Salema porgy (Sarpa salpa), a type of sea bream. Whether or not diners experience an effect from Salema may depend on the season or the diet of the fish—certain microalgae and also Posidonia oceanica, a kind of seagrass, is thought to contribute to toxins building up in the fish’s flesh (particularly the head). The delirious trip lasts for days.

Salema is found in the Mediterranean and East Atlantic, ranging from Great Britain down to South Africa. It is known in Arabic countries as “the fish that makes dreams.” Romans apparently organized entire banquets around getting stoned on Salema. I pity the slaves who had to clean up afterward but there is an excellent story scene there somewhere.

Sadly, although I have a good many historical cookbooks, I found no reference to preparing Salema porgy in Roman times. However, a search of the internet suggests grilled with salsa verde.

Thanks to Annie Spratt for sharing their work on Unsplash.

Peas, please

June 26, 2020 • No Comments

There are many for whom eating their peas is hardly a moment for celebration. What we need to change our eating habits is a princess as a garden pea brand ambassador.

When Catherine de Medici married King Henri II of France (1533), she brought a love of fresh petit pois (shelled peas) with her. This was a somewhat novel vegetable—most knew only the coarser field peas. Those were similar to chickpeas or split peas and dried or sometimes ground into flour. Wheat flour existed at the time, but was more expensive.

Once peas arrived on the scene, their history reads like the gourmet column of a society magazine. All the cool kids served peas.

Louis XIV, France’s famous Sun King, received a hamper of green peas from Genoa in 1660. They were then dramatically shelled and presented to the court in tiny dishes. The pea craze persisted well into the 1690s. Mme de Maintenon and Mme de Sevigné both reported a craze for securing a taste of the first harvest.

Edible pod peas (pois mange-tout) are reported to have arrived somewhat earlier from Holland during the time of Louis’s grandfather. Sadly, snow peas do not seem to have created such a splash.

In England, green peas came into fashion during the reign of Charles II, who probably ate them in France before the Restoration. As late as 1769, shoppers reportedly paid enormous sums for peas at Covent Garden Market, although other sources report the vegetable becoming common earlier in the century.

One other kind of pea—the lovely flowering sweet pea—is worth mentioning. Beyond its presence in our gardens, its claim to fame is as a favorite subject of Father Gregory Mendel. Mendel lived in Moravia and was three years younger than Queen Victoria. His work on genetics benefited from the sweet pea’s easily distinguished inherited characteristics.

One might ask what Mendel has to do with food fashion, and the answer is not much. However, royalty and peas do intersect when it comes to genetic consequences. Mendel’s work with peas was instrumental in understanding hemophilia, a blood clotting disorder that plagued Victoria’s descendants.

Maybe I just like sparkly crystals

June 22, 2020 • No Comments

Synchronicity is an odd thing. I’ve always been interested in astrology, tarot, earth religions, feminism, and folklore. They have a lot to say about how the psyche works and–especially for followers of Joseph Campbell–how stories function. After all, reality is the tales we tell ourselves.

As an author, this subject is an important wellspring. Hence my interest in dreams and symbols and imagery that crosses cultures and the boundaries of time. I investigate these subjects, drift away, and come back like a migratory creature on the way to an unexplained destination. Maybe I’m ready for the next layer of information. Maybe I just like sparkly crystals. However, sometimes odd synchronicities happen.

I signed up for a 3-session course on Jungian psychology and alchemy from the Embassy of the Free Mind. With those two subjects combined, how could I not? I’ve attended two sessions so far, and the course addresses the stages of alchemy from a psychological perspective. In a very small nutshell, our personal growth follows the stages of death and rebirth and coming into wisdom through inner work. I love the international nature of the experience (yay for Zoom) and the wide-ranging references to mythology and culture. To be clear, there is no physical chemistry involved. It’s all dreamwork and navel-gazing, but right at this moment in time–after fire, plague, and TP shortages–it’s powerful. We’ve been forced to sit and think about things, and here is a chance to use that introspection. What’s working? What’s the source of unhappiness? How can we be more whole?

At the same time, completely randomly, I picked a DVD off the shelf that had sat there for years unwatched. I got a copy of The Hero’s Two Journeys on a Black Friday sale some time ago but never found the time to play it. I wanted something for a blog review so picked it off the TBR pile. It’s Michael Hauge and Christopher Vogler talking about story structure. Surprise, surprise, the map of the inner journey (particularly Vogler’s analysis using Joseph Campbell’s work) closely parallels the alchemical path. That tidbit was a huge “whoah!” for me, especially when it showed up in such random fashion.

Apparently, I need to pay attention here. Just as a confirmation, I pulled a card from the Wildwood Tarot and got the Nine of Stones (tradition). Part of the meaning is “reverence for past wisdom and sacrifice. The ability to relate to ancient knowledge and pass on the lessons of ancestral memory and ritual.”

I’ve got some thinking to do.

The Best Cheese Scones Ever

June 21, 2020 • No Comments

For those days when life requires comfort food, I give you this recipe for the best cheese scones ever. It’s light and tasty and goes with soup, salad, or a ploughman’s lunch.

Heat oven to 425 F and grease a baking tray or two (I usually double the batch).

Sift:

. 2 cups flour

. 1 tsp baking powder

. 1 tsp cream of tartar

. 1/2 tsp sea salt

. 1 tsp dried chervil (oregano would probably work, too)

Work in so it’s not clumpy:

. 1/3 cup minced parsley

. 1/3 cup minced fresh dill

Cut in 1/4 cup of soft butter until it’s like fine breadcrumbs. Then add:

. 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese

Make a well in the center and pour in:

. 1/2 cup to 2/3 cup heavy cream.

Start with a half cup of liquid and mix with a wooden spoon until all the dry ingredients are absorbed. Add more liquid if it seems too dry. Turn onto a floured board and knead just enough to make the dough elastic. Pat into a round about an inch thick and cut into rounds with a cookie cutter until all the dough is used up. If you prefer, rolling the dough into snakes will make pretty good bread sticks for dipping into hummus or tzatziki.

Brush the tops of the scones with a little milk, then bake for 15 to 20 minutes or until the tops are golden. Cool on a wire rack.

Don’t be shy about doubling or tripling the recipe – these are perfect for taking to the office, making care packages for friends, or freezing in smaller amounts. They can also be split and toasted in a toaster oven. I like them with avocado and sliced tomato with a pinch of carrot and beet sauerkraut. In another mood, they’re great with a tart currant jelly.

The polite use of zombies for discerning gentlefolk

Emma Jane Holloway
June 20, 2020 • No Comments

This first appeared in my newsletter, May 24/20

In strange worlds different from the Very Strange World we currently inhabit, work on the Hellion House series continues. I’d like to take this moment to address the notion that the series contains zombies. In a word, no. The forest beyond the walls of Londria contain many strange creatures, but not the walking dead. There are the Unseen, which are scruffy flesh eaters with shockingly bad social skills, but they are very much alive.

Then what are the Unseen and where do they come from? Can they be taught to use a napkin? Do they vote for a particular party? Those, dear reader, are the story questions of Leopard Ascending, the Hellion House installment currently under construction.

In the meantime, I’d like to offer some general advice for those occasions when one does have a zombie on one’s impeccably-gloved hands.

For hostesses short a guest to make up the correct numbers at table, the recently-deceased might be pressed into discreet service, given sufficient repair. Of course, no one wants to admit that it was necessary to summon the dead to their party—it smacks of disinterest on the part of the living. As a precaution, instruct the footmen serving the meal to politely but firmly decline the revenant’s insistent request for brains.
For committee work, whether charitable or in commerce, it is commonplace to send a proxy when it becomes impossible to manage every meeting. Many do send the dead for this purpose. If you have long suspected there were no signs of life amongst your fellow board members, now you know why.
As a post-script to the above, employing zombies in any capacity is optimal where there is plenty of fresh air and discreet staff prepared for unusual emergencies. More than once, a garden party guest has been quickly disposed of among the rhododendrons, much to the gratitude of the greenery. Imagination and flexibility are key. So are a shovel and quick lime.
Finally, while the care and feeding of the dead requires human brains, please do so sparingly. There appears to be a general shortage.