THE DEEP WOODLANDS / EL BOSC PROFON / DEN DJUPA SKOGEN

Originally written by Sofía Rhei -EL BOSQUE PROFUNDO-
A personal selection of favourites from this anthology
translated unofficially from the Spanish by Sandra Dermark
Trilingual edition - Eng / Cat / Swe

tales from the deep woodlands/
contes dels boscos foscos/
sagor från den mörka skogen
21-07-MMXVIII


THE SACRED LEAF
The mother with dried-up breasts, starving, tore off a leaf from the sacred tree and was arrested for that.
The priestess, an opulent young maiden with glittering hair, tore the leaf from her hands and put it into her own mouth. In that instant, her tongue dried up, and she aged up nine years. The soldiers, frightened, let the mother go.
As the poor woman returned home, her breasts filled with juices.
"Mum, you taste like fruit," said her little girl.

LA FULLA SAGRADA
La mare amb els pits ressecos, famolenca, va arrancar una fulla de l'arbre sagrat i va ser detinguda per allò.
La sacerdotessa, una opulenta jove de cabells brillants, li va arrancar la fulla de les mans i la va introduir en la seua pròpia boca. En aquell instant, la seua llengua es va ressecar, i ella va envellir nou anys. Els soldats, esgarrifats, van soltar la mare.
Mentre la dona pobra tornava a casa seua, els pits se li ompliren de sucs.
--Mamà, saps a fruita --li va dir la seua petita.

DET HELIGA LÖVET
Modern med uttorkade bröst, utsvulten, ryckte av ett löv från det heliga trädet och blev gripen för sitt brott.
Prästinnan, en välklädd ungmö med glittrande hår, ryckte lövet från hennes händer och stoppade det i sin egen mun. I detsamma ögonblicket torkade hennes tunga, och hon föråldrades nio år. Soldaterna, förskräckta, lät modern gå.
Medan den fattiga kvinnan återvände hem, fylldes hennes bröst med safter.
"Mamma, du smakar som frukt," sade hennes lilla flicka.




THE DRAGONFLIES
"It was the dragonflies," said the girl-child after the fire of the harvested crops. "Don't you see them?"

LES LIBÈL·LULES
—Han sigut les libèl·lules —digué la xiqueta rere l'incendi de la collita—. No les veieu?

TROLLSLÄNDORNA
"Det var trollsländorna", sa flickebarnet efter att skörden hade brunnit ned. "Ser ni dem ej?"




WHITE WITCHES
It is said that the lullaby which white witches sing turns normal girl-children into white witches. For that reason, mothers cover the ears of their little girls when they pass by singing in the nights.
What these mothers do not know is that it is not the song that turns the girl-children into white witches, but the desire to listen to it. The girl-children destined to be white witches, when their mothers cover their ears, burn with curiosity and with wonder, imagining the forbidden song, and they escape from their homes the next day, to run until they reach the heart of the forest, and beg the white witch to sing the song to them.

BRUIXES BLANQUES
Es diu que la cançó de bressol que canten les bruixes blanques converteix a les xiquetes normals en bruixes blanques. Per això, les mares tapen les orelles de llurs petites quan passen cantant per les nits.
El que aquestes mares no saben és que no és la cançò el que converteix a les nenes en bruixes blanques, sinó el desig d'escoltarla. Les nenes destinades a ésser bruixes blanques, quan llurs mares les tapen les orelles, ardeixen de curiositat i de meravella imaginant la cançó prohibida, i escapen de llurs cases al dia següent per a córrer fins a l'interior del bosc i suplicar-li a la bruixa blanca que les canti la cançó.

VITA HÄXOR
Det sägs att den vaggvisa som vita häxor sjunger förvandlar vanliga flickebarn till vita häxor. Därför täpper mödrarna till deras små tösers öron när de passerar förbi med sin sång var natt.
Vad dessa mödrar ej vet är att det är inte sången som förvandlar flickebarn till vita häxor, utan att det är längtan efter att få höra den. Flickebarn som är förutsagda att bli vita häxor, när deras mödrar täpper till deras öron, brinner av nyfikenhet och förundran, och drömmer om den förbjudna sången, och de rymmer från sina hem dagen därpå för att springa ända till skogens inre och bedja den vita häxan att hon ska sjunga sången för dem.




THE FOUNTAIN OF THE NEWBORN
Its waters sing with a cheerful melody. They laugh and lilt as if in those waters there was splashing a baby a few months old.
However, nowadays no one plays in them.
The ghost of the drowned girl-child wants to tell them, with her laughter, that they should not fear, that the side of the waters is far better than the other side. 'Tis nearly, nearly as good as having never been born.

LA FONT DE LA NEONATA
Les seues aigües canten amb una alegre melodia. Riuen i borbotegen com si en elles estiguera xapotejant una criatura de pocs mesos.
Tanmateix, ja ningú no juga en elles.
El fantasma de la xiqueta ofegada vol dir als altres, amb la seua rialla, que no tinguen por, que el costat de les aigües és molt millor que l'altre. És quasi, quasi tan bo com no haver mai nascut.

DEN NYFÖDDAS KÄLLA
Dess vatten sjunger en glad melodi. De skrattar och jollrar som om däri plaskade ett spädbarn, få månader gammalt.
Hur som helst, numera leker ingen i dessa vatten.
Spöket av det drunknade flickebarnet vill säga till dem, med sitt skratt, att de behöver inte bli rädda, att vattensidan är mycket bättre än den andra sidan. Det är nästan, nästan så bra som att aldrig ha blivit född.




THE MAIDEN BEHIND THE DOOR WHICH STOOD AJAR
She knew that she was a monster, for she had no eyelids, but scales instead. No one else had noticed that. Her scales, fortunately, were identical to human eyelids.
But she knew that they were scales.

LA DONZELLA RERE LA PORTA ENTREOBERTA
Sabia que era un monstre, perquè no tenia parpelles, sinó escates. Ningú més se'n havia adonat. Les seues escates, afortunadament, eren idèntiques a les parpelles humanes.
Però ella sabia que eren escates.

UNGMÖN BAKOM DÖRREN SOM STOD PÅ GLÄNT
Hon visste att hon var ett monster, eftersom hon hade inga ögonlock, utom fjäll istället. Ingen annan hade lagt märke till detta. Hennes fjäll var, lyckligtvis, identiska med mänskliga ögonlock.
Men hon visste att de var fjäll.




THE MAKE-UP SELLER
The best way to advertise her merchandise is her own beauty. The seller of powders and perfumes has the skin of a girl-child, the curious mouth of an adolescent maiden, the wise look in the eyes of a wife, the fleshy cheekbones of a mother, and the serene slenderness of an old crone.
Beneath all the layers of perfect make-up it is impossible to know what was the original shape of her eyebrows, of her lips... Her face is a blank canvas which she reuses every day, adding, plussing, constructing colour upon colour.
When alone, her obsession consists of the opposite. Aware that she is only a support for beauty, she eliminates her own features, diffuminates them, destroys them.

LA VENEDORA DE COSMÈTICS
El millor reclam per a la seua mercancia es la seua pròpia bellesa. La venedora de pólvores i perfums té la pell d'una xiqueta, la boca curiosa d'una adolescent, la mirada sàvia d'una esposa, els pòmuls carnosos d'una mare i la primor serena d'una anciana.
Sota les capes de perfecte maquillatge és impossible saber quina era la forma original de les seues celles, dels seus llavis. El seu rostre és un llenç en blanc que reinventa cada dia, afegint-hi, sumant-hi, construint-hi color sobre color.
A soles, la seua obsessió consisteix en allò contrari. Conscient de que tan sols és un suport per a la bellesa, elimina els seus trets, els difumina, els destrueix.

SMINKHANDLERSKAN
Den bästa reklamen för hennes varor är hennes egen skönhet. Hon som säljer puder och parfymer har ett flickebarns hud, en ungmös nyfikna mun, en hustrus visa blick, en moders klotrunda kindknotor och en klok gummas lugna slankhet.
Under lager på lager av perfekt smink är det omöjligt att veta vilken var den ursprungliga formen på hennes ögonbryn, på hennes läppar. Hennes ansikte är en blank tavelduk som hon återskapar varje dag, där hon lägger till, adderar, konstruerar färg på färg.
I ensamheten består hennes obsession av det rakt motsatta. Medveten om att hon är blott ett stöd för skönheten raderar hon sina egna anletsdrag, suddar ut dem, förstör dem.




THE SORROW-DROWNING SHAWL
That shawl brought calm to the restless. All one needed was to place it on someone's shoulders for all the worries that inhabited that person's shoulders and their back to disappear.
However; nothing could erase the tiny blue footprints that they left as they went forth.

EL XAL LLEVAPENES
Aquell xal proporcionava calma als inquiets. Era suficient posar-lo sobre els muscles d'algú per a que desaparegueren totes les preocupacions que habitaven els seus muscles i les seves espatles.
Això sí: res no podia esborrar les diminutes petjades blaves que deixaven en marxar-se.

DEN SORGEDRÄNKANDE SJALEN
Den där sjalen förde med sig lugn till de rastlösa. Det enda som behövdes var att svepa den om någons axlar för att alla sorger som bebodde den människans axlar och skuldror skulle försvinna.
Hur som helst: ingenting kunde sudda ut de pyttesmå blå fotspår som de lämnade när de for sin väg.




SILVER FISH
When she forsook him, he stabbed a deep cut into his own left arm and promised to himself that he would have forgotten her by the time the wound had completely healed.
But the wound did not shut. Instead of that, there began to well from its inside little silver fishies.
He thought that this was the pain that was leaving his body, and he opened his wound even more to let them all out, to leave him for once and for all. As they entered the waters of the river, the fishies dissolved into it, like teardrops would have done.
The last silver fish left his body and the wound shut.
He felt icy cold inside his chest, and realised, already too late, that the fishies had never been his pain, but rather his very own soul.

PEIXOS D'ARGENT
Quan ella el va abandonar, ell es va fer un profon tall al braç esquerre i es va prometre a sí mateix haver-la oblidat per a quan la ferida cicatritzara.
Però la ferida no es va tancar. En comptes d'allò, començaren a brollar del seu interior peixets d'argent.
Ell va pensar que es tractava de la dolor que escapava del seu cos, i va obrir encara més la ferida per a permitir-los que eixiren, que el deixaren d'una vegada per totes. Quan entraven a l'aigua del riu, els peixets es dissolvien en ella, com les llàgrimes.
El darrer peix d'argent va eixir del seu cos i la ferida es va tancar.
Ell va sentir fred dins el pit, i se'n va adonar, massa tard, de que els peixos no havien sigut pas la seua dolor, sinó la seua mateixa ànima.

SILVERFISKAR
När hon övergav honom, skar han sig djupt i vänster arm och lovade sig själv att han skulle glömma bort henne vid den tid då såret hade läkts.
Men blessyren slöts aldrig. I stället för det, började det att vålla ur dess inre små silverfiskar.
Han tänkte att det var fråga om smärtan som lämnade hans kropp, och han öppnade såret ännu mer för att få dem alla att simma ut, att lämna honom en gång för alla. När de trängde in i flodens vatten löste fiskarna upp sig i det, som om de vore tårar.
Den sista silverfisken lämnade hans kropp och såret läktes.
Han kände iskyla inuti bröstet, och lade märke, alldeles för sent, till att fiskarna hade inte varit hans smärta, utom hans självaste själ.




THE GIRL IN THE THORNS
The Girl in the Thorns walked until she reached the castle of the Girl in the Dream, and she hid behind a hedge to watch how the clotheswashers washed the clothes, how the embroiderers embroidered, how the gardeners watered the plants, and how, in the kitchen, the cooks roasted partridges.
Then the hedge opened to let her pass through, and the Girl in the Thorns reached the centre of the garden without having been seen by anyone, except by the Girl in the Dream.
The latter watched her and nodded her head. Then, she climbed up all 444 steps in the spiral staircase of the highest tower, and sighed before pricking her index finger with the pitch-black, shiny thorn of the spinning wheel.
As soon as the Girl in the Dream fell to the ground, the Girl in the Thorns plunged her feet into the ground. Her toes took root. Her arms and legs became thick thorny stems, that grew until they surrounded the palace from all sides.
The clotheswashers ceased to wash, the embroiderers froze in a gesture, the water in the gardeners' cans froze halfway down, and even the partridges, which were roasting on their spits, remained motionless.

LA NENA DELS ESPINS
La Nena dels Espins va caminar fins al castell de la Nena del Somni, i es va amagar darrere una tanca vegetal per a observar com rentaven la roba els rentadors, com brodaven els brodadors, com regaven els jardiners i com, a la cuina, els cuiners rostien perdius.
Aleshores la tanca vegetal es va obrir per a deixar-la passar, i la Nena dels Espins va arribar fins al centre del jardí sense que ningú puguera veure-la, excepte la Nena del Somni.
Aquesta la va observar i va dir que sí amb el cap. Després va pujar els 444 graons de l'escala de caragol de la torre més alta, i va sospirar abans de punxar-se el dit índex amb la negríssima espina lluent de la filosa.
En quant la Nena del Somni va caure a terra, la Nena dels Espins va enfonsar els peus a la terra. Els dits dels seus peus van arrelar. Els seus braços i les seues cames esdevingueren gruixudes tiges espinoses, que van créixer fins a envoltar el palau per totes parts.
Els rentadors deixaren de rentar, els brodadors van detindre el seu gest, l'aigua dels jardiners es va detindre a mig camí i àdhuc les perdius, que es rostien a l'ast, restaren immòbils.

FLICKAN I TÖRNENA
Flickan i Törnena vandrade ända tills hon nådde slottet där Flickan i Drömmen bodde, och hon gömde sig bakom en häck för att iaktta hur klädestvättarna tvättade kläderna, hur brodörerna och brodöserna broderade, hur trädgårdsmästarna vattnade växterna och hur, i köket, kockarna helstekte rapphöns.
Då öppnades häcken för att låta henne igenom, och Flickan i Törnena kom ända till trädgårdens centrum utan att ha blivit sedd av ingen, utom av Flickan i Drömmen.
Denna iakttog henne och nickade med huvudet. Därefter gick hon upp alla de 444 stegen till spiraltrappan i det högsta tornet, och suckade innan hon stack sig i pekfingret med den kolsvarta glänsande törntaggen på spinnrocken.
Knappast hade Flickan i Drömmen fallit på marken förrän Flickan i Törnena sänkte sina fötter ner i jorden. Hennes tår slog rot. Hennes armar och ben blev till tjocka törnestjälkar, som växte tills de omringade slottet från alla håll.
Klädestvättarna upphörde att tvätta, brodörerna och brodöserna stannade frusna i en gest, vattnet i trädgårdsmästarnas kannor frös halvvägs ner till marken, och till och med rapphönsen, som helstektes på spett, förblev alldeles blickstilla.




TO CATCH A STAR
The little girl assured that she had caught a star, and she refused to separate her hands for weeks. She barely slept, and, when she did, she asked her sister to tie her hands together in order to keep the little box which they made shut. When no one saw her, she shed tears of pain because of the burns. But she refused to separate her hands.

ATRAPAR UN ESTEL
La xiqueta assegurava que havia atrapat un estel, i es va negar a separar les mans durant setmanes. Quasi no dormia, i quan ho feia li demanava a la seua germana que li lligara juntes les mans per a mantindre tancada la caixeta que formaven. Quan ningú la veia, plorava de dolor a causa de les cremades. Però es negava a separar les mans.

ATT FÅNGA EN STJÄRNA
Flickan försäkrade att hon hade fångat en stjärna, och hon vägrade att dra händerna isär i veckor. Hon sällan sov, och när hon gjorde det bad hon sin syster att binda ihop hennes händer för att hålla schatullet som de formade slutet. När ingen såg henne grät hon av smärta på grund av brännskadorna. Men hon vägrade att dra händerna isär.




THE GIRL IN THE DREAM
The Girl in the Dream, who was no longer a girl, walked and walked until she reached the glass case where the Boy in the Thorns slept. By the coffin's side, she found a little girl who watched him, in love with him.
"I do not dare to kiss him," the little girl confessed to her. "I would not like to die."
"Do not worry, little one," said the Girl in the Dream. "I will do it for you."
The Girl in the Dream tenderly kissed the Boy in the Thorns, and she fell into the glass case in his stead. She rejuvenated as the thorns sprouted from her.

LA NENA DEL SOMNI
La Nena del Somni, que ja no era una nena, va caminar i caminar fins a l'urna de cristall en la qual dormia el Nin de les Espines. Al costat de l'urna, va trobar una petita que l'observaba, enamorada.
—No tinc valor per a besar-lo —li confessà la xiqueta—. No voldria morir.
—No et preocupes, petita —digué la Nena del Somni—. Jo ho faré per tu.
La Nena del Somni besà amb tendresa el Nin de les Espines, i caigué dins l'urna en lloc d'ell. Va rejovenir mentre li brotaven les espines.

FLICKAN I DRÖMMEN
Flickan i Drömmen, som inte längre var en flicka, vandrade och vandrade ända tills hon nådde kristallkistan där Pojken i Törnena sov. Vid kistans sida fann hon en liten flicka som iakttog honom, förälskad.
"Jag vågar inte kyssa honom", erkände den lilla flickan. "Jag skulle inte vilja dö".
"Oroa dig inte, flicka lilla", sade Flickan i Drömmen. "Jag ska göra det för din skull".
Flickan i Drömmen kysste Pojken i Törnena så ömt, och hon föll in i kristallkistan för att ta hans plats. Hon föryngrades medan törnena slog ut på hennes kropp.

MY READS - GASLAMP/ FLINTLOCK/ FAIRYTALE FANTASY

MY READS - GASLAMP/ FLINTLOCK/ FAIRYTALE FANTASY

Here's a genre of stories that I have always <3ed and sought inspiration for. And here are my picks for the genre, meant for Spanish readers. Mind that all of them pass the Bechdel test (yes, the test that female characters talk about other things than men in conversation), and star female characters:

The Academy, Book One, Amelia Drake

Historical setting: late nineteenth century

Geographical setting: Danubia (fantasy counterpart of Vienna)

Noteworthy: all the orphans at the local Kinderheim are surnamed after numbers, and there is a military academy and hussars in their sharp uniforms. Stephen Seventy, the love interest (Twelve, the heroine, is also a character worth noting and loving), wants to be a hussar and winds up as a cadet in said Military Academy (capitalized). The setting verges between monarchy and oligarchy, and there are lots of airships and houseboats so elegant...

This book was my self-gift for my own twenty-fourth birthday, this very week...

Book Two has been released only in Italy so far. And there is the reveal that there is a man in an iron mask in a dungeon... (the king's twin brother, I presume?)

Ada Goth Saga (trilogy, so far), by Chris Riddell

Historical setting: early nineteenth century/Regency

Geographical setting: the English countryside

Noteworthy: Ada and her father are fantasy counterparts of Ada Lovelace and Lord Byron. Lots of other fantasy counterparts of historical figures and literary characters abound. A drinking game of my own invention relies on spotting as many of these allusions as possible. Ada is also a great heroine, like Astrid, Becca, Twelve, and many others on this list... There's also another thing that I like, and it's the Building of Adventure setting: the outside world is mentioned more than once, but the leading characters never leave the vast estate of Ghastlygorm.

La calle Andersen (Andersen Street), Sofia Rhei & Marian Womack

Historical setting: mid-nineteenth century/Biedermeier

Geographical setting: Copenhagen

Noteworthy: This is the story of what happened to Kai and Gerda when they returned home from the Snow Queen's realm. They discover that they've got powers: he retains some magic mirror inside his eyes and can only see people's flaws (this helps him tell realistic automatons from flesh-and-blood humans), while she can somehow communicate with plants and animals (making Gerda an omnivoxa) like during her quest. Kai is the dark boy and Gerda the auburn girl. Then there's Ada, an albino orphan who lives with her ailing grandmother and sells matches on the streets: the Little Match Girl with a Targaryen colour scheme that soon attracts the villains' attention. And Joachim Maximilian Ernst III, a clever and wealthy stripling (eldest son of always absent classical musicians, English-style boxer, and amateur inventor) whose courtesy and refinement impress Gerda, leaving her to decide between this aristocratic young prodigy and her childhood friend. The plot concerns the disappearance of several street children, a snake oil seller who moonlights as an alchemist, an automaton maker whose creations are so lifelike that they can be mistaken for the real thing... There are lots of nods to many different Andersen stories and the Danish setting... the authors love these fairytales as much as I do, so this (last Christmas's self-gift) is next to the Waterfire books on my shelf. Another reason why I give it a plus is the fact that there's a gender-equal ensemble.

Which brings us to the Waterfire books themselves...

Waterfire Saga, Jennifer Donnelly

Historical setting: twenty-first century (in parallel mer-realms)

Geographical setting: several mer-realms, fantasy counterparts of real-life human cultures from the past. Most awesome is Ondalina, the Arctic Northern European counterpart culture.

Noteworthy: This is the series with Astrid Freaking Kolfinnsdóttir in it. That's enough to interest you. Aside from the fact that there are counterpart cultures, fortress towns, grand palaces, fierce dragons, kobolds and other Norse mythical creatures... and that's only the tip of the iceberg. So I'm still waiting for Dark Tide to reach Spain (muttering curses under my breath when it failed to come last winter), and I keep my fingers crossed for this springtime or summer. 

Princesses of the Realm of Fantasy, (illustrated by) Silvia Bigolin

Historical setting: eighteenth century (in the Realm of Fantasy)

Geographical setting: several allied kingdoms, fantasy counterparts of real-life human cultures from the past.

Noteworthy: There are counterpart cultures here, aside from a cast of ridiculously attractive young people. In my headcanon, the male love interests/princes in this series are so good (the illustrator is a real artist!) that I have used them for a few boys' love AUs (from retelling Othello, Eugene Onegin, and The Snow Queen to historical settings such as the Great War and the Thirty Years' War). They have as much presence and relevance as their distaff counterparts, which is rare in the gender-equal ensemble of a girl-oriented book series.

The Witch's Boy, Michael Gruber

Historical setting: eighteenth century

Geographical setting: shifts between the generic Central European fairytale kingdom (the concept of provinces mentioned, communities of various sizes, a baroque royal palace), the Realm of Fairies (exceedingly beautiful and intelligent, with violet eyes, think Tolkien elves or Targaryens), a warm country-esque land with stately castles and nuns' convents that is obviously a counterpart culture of France, and a rocky coastline dotted with villages and granitic islands (reminds me of Sweden, but could as well have been Scotland).

Noteworthy: period military life, of a cavalryman and a camp follower, implied. The titular witch, who is more of a wise woman, and her cat changed into human form (a slender young man with a Dalí moustache, a powdered wig, and grape-green eyes), go to war and live in camps for a while, and the result is the gem of a following quote:

Falance went for a soldier, and we joined the war. 
"The war?" 
Well, I was what they call a camp follower. I helped with the wounded and robbed corpses. You know, I have always admired the ravens, and it is much the same sort of life. Also battle is exciting, though stupid, like a stampede of elk. As for Falance, you know he loves to kill - it is his nature - and I did not want to deny him. He made a fine-looking soldier too, with a plume, dangling cartridges, and boots to the hip, his mustache waxed to point and his hair in tight braids. We were of the White Dragoons. Seven years we followed the drum, and then some doctors noticed that their patients died while mine lived and kept their limbs, and an accusation was lodged against me, and we had to desert.

The Twistrose Key, Tone Almhjell

Historical setting: late eighteenth/early nineteenth century

Geographical setting: the Sylver Valley, with the village of Sylveros (a Scandinavian counterpart culture), located on the northernmost edge of the Realms of Dream and Thorn, the dreamland of humans, which has a Regency/Biedermeier ring to it.

Noteworthy: The heroine looks and acts like me. Lindelin "Lin" Rosenquist is a riddle-loving, clever, plucky adolescent tomboy from our days' Scandinavia, freckled and golden-haired and honey-eyed. Also, there's the Winterfyrsts, the royalty of the region, raven-haired, ice-blue-eyed, lilywhite, exceedingly beautiful humanoids: Clariselyn, the missing ruler who returns in the end, and Isvan, her only son, a brooding and quiet boy. These three characters reminded me of Gerda, Kai, and the Snow Queen more than usual... There's also the countless shop signs that line the Sylverosi townscape, magnificent ice caves, the warm waffles at the Waffle Heart, where Isvan is a regular, washed down with mulled cider... and the Margrave, Edvard Uriarte, a redoubtable evil overlord with a scarring Freudian excuse (he lost all of his friends and family to the 1918 "Spanish flu")... The Scandinavian inspiration and the pace at which the story moves hooked me as instantly as the quaintness of the setting and the characters.

Lamplighter (Monster Blood Tattoo, Book the Second), D.M. Cornish

Historical setting: mid- to late eighteenth century

Geographical setting: the military academy of Winstermill and its environs, on the far reaches of the monster-infested Half-Continent

Noteworthy: The premise, penned by an Aussie who has showed their fricking worth, is instantly addictive and completely my catnip: Hogwarts (AKA Extranormal Boarding School Academy of Adventure) with cadets at a military academy in an eighteenth-century setting? BRING IT ON!!! It also features one of the most touching and lifelike relationships between mother and daughter EVER written in flintlock/fairytale fantasy, between dark-haired noblewoman Lady Syntychë Vey of Herbroulesse and her fiery daughter Threnody (the girl above), both of them badasses, a conservative marquise and her rebellious child who remind me of Queen Elinore and Princess Merida in Brave, respectively. Carrot-topped ace markswoman Threnody, my fave leading character in the book, is also a wit (esper telepath) and malaise-inducer and the leader of an all-female detachment of monster hunters... as well as the token girl at an all-male military academy (a first step to making Winstermill gender-equal) and a sarcastic black sheep of the clan à la Tyrion Lannister <3 <3 <3 (blowing her some kisses).

In Sweden, this novel was broken down into two books (so there's Book the Second Part One and Two). I got them second hand on the island of Tjörn and now they are on a sacred place in my bookshelf.

Oh, and, in France, different illustrations, by LACOMBE himself, are used for this series, there called Terres des Monstres. Here is Lacombe's redoubtable rendition of Tedronille (Threnody's French name!)... <3 <3 <3 

Il visconte dimezzato (The Cloven Viscount), Italo Calvino

Historical setting: mid-eighteenth century

Geographical setting: the shire of Terralba, somewhere in northern Italy

Noteworthy: Here we've got another premise that still haunts me every day. Long story short: a young lieutenant, heir to the count of Terralba, is struck right in the middle of the chest by an enemy cannonball on his baptism of fire. Both halves catapulted each to a side of the battlefield, left half saved by wise old lady of the woods, right half saved by regimental surgeons. Both half-men survive, against all odds. Self-centered right half returns to Terralba, causes his father's death, rules the shire with an iron fist, imprisoning his old nanny and burning French Protestants at the stake, to mention only some of his cruelties. Enter his left half, who sets right everything that the tyrant has done wrong, but has no concept of self, and thus, does more harm than good by completely meddling in the lives of others. Neither Lefty nor Righty want to reunite with their respective other halves. And then... Enter love. A village maiden of middling descent, whom both half viscounts adore: Righty threatens her at gunpoint, Lefty showers her with poetry and wildflowers. She does not want either of the half-men to ruin her life, and thus, she decides to marry both of them, with neither suitor knowing that she has also accepted the other!!! Naturally, they challenge one another to a duel and severely injure one another: stitched together by the household surgeon of the Terralba lords, now one person, neither too selfish nor too selfless... the viscount and his clever damsel live happily ever after. 

This is a whale of a fairytale, that speaks volumes in the metaphor at its core... Naturally, Villazuk made a song about it, and here is the song for those who wish to hear it...

Three paths lead up the Hill of Difficulty:

1. The path to the left is beautiful and easy, yet treacherous and fraught with Destruction.
2. The path to the right is beautiful and easy, yet treacherous and fraught with Danger.
3. The middle path, straight up the hill, is steep and straight and narrow, yet it leads to a Pleasant Arbour where the weary find repose.

This is an illustration of the Golden Mean and shying away from extremes (in ethics as well as in any other field of life). There's no "right is good and left is bad" symbolism, but rather "both left and right are the wrong paths," the middle one, the third one, right in between the extremes, is the one most recommended to choose. And The Cloven Viscount (Il visconte dimezzato), a superb fairytale fantasy by Italo Calvino, illustrates the same value. Neither a completely self-centered person nor a completely altruistic one can be considered human, and Lieutenant Viscount Medardo di Terralba learned this lesson firsthand.
Once upon a battlefield, this young lieutenant, this viscount, shot down in the middle of the chest by enemy fire, was literally split in twain. His right half (completely self-centered) became a dreaded iron-fisted tyrant, while his left half (completely altruistic) became an insufferable silk-gloved goody-two-shoes. Neither one wanted to be reattached to his other half. Until the same young maiden won both the half hearts of the righthander and the lefthander, knowing that both of them would ruin her life, and decided to marry both of them without each other knowing the other's betrothal. The bridegrooms clashed at the altar and challenged one another to a duel, they drew steel at unison and seriously wounded one another with their rapiers, only regaining life after a long convalescence, having already been stitched together. And, of course, he and his bride married and lived happily ever after...

I leave you with the song by Italian band Villazuk, which sums up the story perfectly and is one of my favourite songs in the language of Dante:

Cavalcava la pianura tra gli stormi di cicogne 

munito d’un cavallo e uno scudiero

in Boemia era diretto e li la guerra contro i turchi

gia cosparso avea la terra di carogne

al mattino successivo cominciava la battaglia

pensava al nuovo grado di tenente

scintillavano i suoi occhi tra paura ed entusiasmo

era giovane Medardo di Terralba

e dall’alto della sella scorse due artiglieri turchi

puntare contro il fuoco d’un cannone

l’inesperto cavaliere che copriva l’obiettivo 

fece un salto in aria con un colpo in petto

alla sera lo raccolsero sul carro dei feriti

mutilato interamente alla sinistra

ed il giorno successivo dopo sconce operazioni

con stupore dei dottori respirava 

Al ritorno in terra propria nel mantello nero avvolto

portò con se malvagia e cattiveria

fece un torto uccidendo un volatile del padre

che seguì nel sonno il povero animale

gli abitanti del castello se ne accorsero in quel tempo 

che l’uomo aveva perso ogni bontà

incendiava gente e case di ugonotti ed appestati

coronando una miriade di condanne

solamente una gran donna la sua balia Sebastiana

rimproverava tutti i suoi misfatti

ma l’insana crudeltà giunse presto e la sua sorte

fu l’esilio nel paese dei lebbrosi

l’abitudine a quel male di brutalità e follie

facea vegliar la notte sentinelle

mai nessuno compativa la sua giovinezza offesa

che temevano anche i cari più vicini

Ma un fanciullo che dormiva sopra il bordo d’un torrente

sentì la mezza ombra sulla testa

mentre un ragno scivolava sopra il collo del ragazzo

quella sola mano ne procurò il morso 

sotto il suo mantello nero con il suo mezzo sorriso

salutò affettuosamente suo nipote

che si accorse sbalordito di quel nuovo atteggiamento

e che la mano gonfia era la sinistra

dopo un po’ fu noto a tutti l’altro mezzo è ritornato

a portare aiuto a chi era disperato

a soccorrere i più poveri regalando carità

a fermare le violenze ed i peccati

ma la virtù del buon mancino era troppo disumana

predicava ai vecchi di non lavorare

disturbava le abitudini e le vite della gente

che non sopportava neanche il mezzo buono

Questa storia prende svolta come tante volte accade

per mano di una giovane fanciulla

che riuscì a farsi contendere da due metà divise

da quell’uomo che portava cuori opposti 

era scalza grassottella e vestiva sempre rosa

rifiutava le due anime contrarie

l’uomo buono era pietoso quanto l’altro era crudele

non voleva rovinarsi l’esistenza

la ragazza era scocciata e con un gesto d’imprudenza

decise di sposarli tutti e due

ma di farlo all’insaputa dei due mezzi cavalieri

che incrociarono i due occhi sull’altare

si lanciarono una sfida in un duello regolare

con entrambe mani armate d’una spada

così l’uomo combatteva contro la sua stessa parte

e poi cadde a terra in un bagno di sangue

Ora il corpo dei feriti sotto ardue cuciture

sottoposte dal dottore del castello

dopo giorni di pazienza tra gli sguardi sempre incerti

sotto gli occhi dell’amata prese vita

la sua vita fu felice molti figli e un buon governo 

e per quello che gli accadde fu il più saggio

più non c’era cattiveria più non c’era troppa pena

ma di tutt’e due portava l’esperienza.