A mash-up of Gothic romance, Jamesian horror and Sapphic love story
And so, accompanied by some atmospheric scene-setting, Norah is deposited outside Corrain House, 'a squat grey limpet on an iron grey cliff, looking half-minded to jump' surrounded by haar during the day and impenetrable blackness at night, to marry a man she knows only from his letters. Given no time to unpack, she is whisked off to the family kirk to meet the 'tall, stone-cut, austere' Lord Barland for the first time at their perfunctory wedding. She is stunned to find him distant and uncommunicative, so unlike his eloquent, sensitive letters.
Norah spends far more time with the housekeeper, Agnes Gunn – described, like Barland, as 'austere' – who seems to be the keeper of Corrain House's secrets. Lean and sinewy, compared to Norah's 'unfashionable' curviness, she challenges Norah's status as mistress of the house behind the thinnest veneer of deference. They seem destined to be enemies. But there's a fire in Agnes's eyes that draws Norah inexorably towards her, and the attraction appears to be mutual. When their eyes meet, 'there is more than camaraderie'.
But while they embark on a complicated relationship, there is far more going on than repressed longings or a battle for control of the estate. Corrain House and its environs aren't just a gloomy location for Norah to live out her days. It's a land that refuses to be tilled, grazed or mined, terrain that rejects the people who have settled on it, and it's chipping away at Norah's mind. She sees ships on the sea that shouldn't be there, hallucinates spectral stags and ghostly revenants and fears that the rowan tree in the courtyard is a focus of ancient evil.
(Image: Rebellion Publishing)
A consistently enjoyable mash-up of Gothic romance, Jamesian horror and Sapphic love story, The Needfire works as well as it does because we become so quickly and easily invested in Norah, in her relationship with Agnes and her determination to penetrate the many mysteries of Corrain House that we're prepared to follow the authors anywhere, however fantastical or melodramatic it gets.
The Hardy duo know how to pitch their prose so that it deepens and enriches the mood without becoming florid or bombastic, writing with such delicacy that even the most sensational imagery and breakneck twists are framed in haunting and lyrical passages. Even when the undercurrent of pure fantasy-horror that's been lurking in the margins finally bursts climactically into the open, the prospect of the beleaguered Norah's heart being broken is still what we fear the most.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Spectator
10 hours ago
- Spectator
Spectator Competition: Hard lines
For Competition 3412 you were invited to submit a poem about the struggle of writing a challenge drew a larger-than–usual, heartfelt entry. Nicholas Whitehead's limerick caught my eye: A limerick writer from Slough Said 'I haven't quite mastered the form. I've got wit and pith, And the scansion's okay, But I can't get the buggers to rhyme!' Frank Upton's E.J. Thribb-inspired entry also deserves an appreciative nod, along with Harriet Elvin, Jane Newberry, Mike Morrison, Nicholas Lee and Bill Greenwell, but those printed below earn £25 John Lewis vouchers for their travails. Readily, steadily, double dactylogy, Perilous form with a galloping beat, Throws us for loops as we higgledy-piggledy Scramble to fall on our metrical feet. Overembellishing counterproductively, Often we find that our verses are packed Full of superfluous, unsatisfactory Vacuous dactyls we long to re-dact. Though our obsession with sesquipedality Normally isn't a nettlesome quirk, Struggles to channel it double-dactylically Double the trouble and triple the work. Coming to terms that are hexasyllabically Fitting, with accents that happen to crest Smack on their first and their antepenultimate Syllables, renders us perfectly stressed. Alex Steelsmith Then, it was easy: once upon a time each poem's form was known and neatly planned. Blank verse excepted, every line would rhyme and metre be consistent. It all scanned. Tastes change: the formal is no longer 'in'. Ditto the florid High Romantic Passion. Pentameter (iambic)'s in the bin and ballads are completely out of fashion. Syntax and punctuation? – oh, come on! But if you are confessional it's fine to ramble vaguely. Where's your reader gone?– Lost in untangling that opening line. You feel this overwhelming urge to write, from lyric thoughts to satire's sharp attack with unacknowledged legislator's bite. So, where d'you start? An empty page stares back. D.A. Prince Is there anything worse than grappling with verse? The reason I'm struggling, to me it's a puzzle, I cannot find room for a paltry pantoum, and I swear I could never indulge in a ghasal. In poems romantic my mood is pedantic, I've no inclination for baring my breast, and sonnets Shakespearian, dull, antiquarian, even Petrarchan, I bin with the rest. I've tortured my brain on an unwreathed quatrain and sestinas conducive to premature death, I'm avoiding the hell of a vile villanelle or a sad Sapphic ode till I breathe my last breath. Calliope, infuse me, how can you refuse me? I'm in need of a muse that will set me on fire and end this frustration – with no inspiration I'll write my own eulogy, then I'll expire. Sylvia Fairley My brain hurts and a lousy dumbness dulls My wits, as though of Lotos had I snorted, Or gorged on some mild sedative that lulls Me Lethe-wards, all inspiration thwarted. 'Tis not through envy of that happy lot – Sue, Sylvia, Janine and Baz and Bill Who versify of some melodious plot And sing of summer with full-throated skill – Oh, for a draft, a hint, a phrase, a word! Forlorn, I was not born for writer's block. Dark Muse, I listen – Sing, immortal bird! Or must I pray Calliope might knock? Adieu! Fled is all hope of poesy: Is this a vision, or ChatGPT? David Silverman On we rode to Kastof, the city was unscathed, No lines of dead, no queues for bread, Before we dined, we bathed; The rebels were a march away, the rebels were expected! But now they say that yesterday The rebels were deflected; At last we found a refugee, a refugee with porters… Who shared our meal and then revealed He'd come to take the waters; Rifle-fire at midnight! An ominous cantata! Of, it transpired, just fireworks fired For some medieval martyr. Every time I blow it, And frankly, it's a bore: To be the one war poet Who's still looking for a war. Nick Syrett It's time to write a sonnet. Let me see, First, three quatrains. The metre must be right, And then a couplet; formal, structured, tight, Wait – blast – I meant to rhyme ABAB, Stick with Petrarchan then, keep each rule straight, Octet, sestet and octave, that's not hard, Pentameter, iambic. Here we – wait, I've gone Elizabethan. Bloody Bard. Sod this. I'll start a villanelle instead, Some tercets, repetition, that will do, Or else a double dactyl. Find a name That stresses well, six syllables, like – ugh. A haiku or a limerick, they're easy, Some bawdy innuendo, nudge, wink, cough, Pretending I have meant this from the get-go, My high tone, like my muse, has buggered off. Janine Beacham No. 3415: Seeing the light You are invited to submit a lost poem by a well-known poet which makes us see him or her in a new light (16 lines maximum). Please email entries to competition@ by midday on 27 August.
The Herald Scotland
18 hours ago
- The Herald Scotland
A mash-up of Gothic romance, Jamesian horror and Sapphic love story
It's 1890, and Norah Mackenzie's father, a Glasgow businessman, has died, leaving his affairs in disarray. The lion's share of his debts is to a company owned by Lord Alexander Barland, so Norah writes to Barland, pleading with him to wipe the financial slate clean and spare herself and her mother from penury. In the course of their correspondence, they agree that, in addition to the cancellation of the debt, 32-year-old spinster Norah will marry the lonely Lord Barland and live with him at Corrain House on the north coast of Scotland. And so, accompanied by some atmospheric scene-setting, Norah is deposited outside Corrain House, 'a squat grey limpet on an iron grey cliff, looking half-minded to jump' surrounded by haar during the day and impenetrable blackness at night, to marry a man she knows only from his letters. Given no time to unpack, she is whisked off to the family kirk to meet the 'tall, stone-cut, austere' Lord Barland for the first time at their perfunctory wedding. She is stunned to find him distant and uncommunicative, so unlike his eloquent, sensitive letters. Norah spends far more time with the housekeeper, Agnes Gunn – described, like Barland, as 'austere' – who seems to be the keeper of Corrain House's secrets. Lean and sinewy, compared to Norah's 'unfashionable' curviness, she challenges Norah's status as mistress of the house behind the thinnest veneer of deference. They seem destined to be enemies. But there's a fire in Agnes's eyes that draws Norah inexorably towards her, and the attraction appears to be mutual. When their eyes meet, 'there is more than camaraderie'. But while they embark on a complicated relationship, there is far more going on than repressed longings or a battle for control of the estate. Corrain House and its environs aren't just a gloomy location for Norah to live out her days. It's a land that refuses to be tilled, grazed or mined, terrain that rejects the people who have settled on it, and it's chipping away at Norah's mind. She sees ships on the sea that shouldn't be there, hallucinates spectral stags and ghostly revenants and fears that the rowan tree in the courtyard is a focus of ancient evil. (Image: Rebellion Publishing) A consistently enjoyable mash-up of Gothic romance, Jamesian horror and Sapphic love story, The Needfire works as well as it does because we become so quickly and easily invested in Norah, in her relationship with Agnes and her determination to penetrate the many mysteries of Corrain House that we're prepared to follow the authors anywhere, however fantastical or melodramatic it gets. The Hardy duo know how to pitch their prose so that it deepens and enriches the mood without becoming florid or bombastic, writing with such delicacy that even the most sensational imagery and breakneck twists are framed in haunting and lyrical passages. Even when the undercurrent of pure fantasy-horror that's been lurking in the margins finally bursts climactically into the open, the prospect of the beleaguered Norah's heart being broken is still what we fear the most.
Daily Mail
a day ago
- Daily Mail
Wednesday star Jenna Ortega goes for a dip at Sydney's Bondi Beach while fully clothed in Gothic attire including a leather jacket and knee-high boots
Jenna Ortega was living up to her Gothic character in the Wednesday streaming series as she went for a quick wade at Bondi Beach. The 22-year-old American actress, who flew into Sydney this week, stopped by the iconic seaside location on Wednesday and couldn't resist a dip. Dropping by in between promotional duties for the hit Netflix series, Jenna was clad head-to-toe in black leather - but that didn't stop her experiencing the ocean. Jenna slipped off her boots but kept on her long, leather trench coat and her sunglasses as she took advantage of the sunny weather and soaked her feet. The actress carried her chunky biker boots in her hand and scrolled through her phone while having a quick wade on the shore. Under her coat, Jenna had on a nude slip dress and opted for a pale makeup look with a dark nude lipstick. The Beetlejuice Beetlejuice star wore her brunette locks down in soft waves and largely skipped the accessories. Jenna was joined by a large entourage who followed her across the sand before the group left the area together. The Scream actress had arrived at Sydney Airport looking very much like Wednesday from the eponymous series earlier this week. The Hollywood actress is Down Under for the opening of fan festival Wednesday Island in Sydney. The first four episodes of Wednesday's second season debuted to critical acclaim at the beginning of the month. The second half of the season is expected to hit screens in September. The show, a spin-off from hit comic series The Addams Family, made headlines in 2022 after its first season nabbed the number one most popular English-language TV title ever on Netflix, according to Variety. The second season is predicted to achieve similar success after it amassed over 50 million views in its first five days of streaming on the platform. The second series of the Emmy-winning series is executive produced and often directed by horror icon Tim Burton, 66. It has been announced that not only will Wednesday be back for a third series, but a spin-off show is currently under discussion, according to Hollywood Reporter. Fans were delighted to hear the fate of the beloved drama has been secured, taking to social media to express their excitement. Catherine Zeta-Jones posted on Instagram confirming the news: 'When Wednesday comes a better day. 'Wednesday season three. It's official... we shall return.' The first series of Wednesday follows the titular troublemaker character after she is expelled and transferred to Nevermore Academy, a school for monstrous outcasts. Her cool, creepy manner and rebellious streak often see her in trouble and struggling to fit in. But after she discovers she is a psychic like her mother and applies her skills to solving a local murder case, she soon finds her stride.
