1 February 2013 ~ Hyacinth Noir’s Queer Faery Tale Imbolc Issue
< adult content warning >
~ soft snowflakes fall from star-speckled skies as the maiden stirs, her alabaster skin tinged pink in the chilled air . . . ~
imbolc is the celtic fire festival that celebrates the first signs of the springtime — the sprouting of leaves, the crocus flower peeking through the snowfall — as well as the transition of the energies of the crone to those of the maiden; it is a day sacred to the goddess Brighid
imbolc has always spoken of the magick of faery tales to us – greedy dwarves bewitching the prince, evil step-mothers poisoning apples and princesses falling into long slumbers — and our celebration of the season will take you on a literary journey to magickal lands filled with love and betrayal.
~ this artistic revision of the old woman in the woods gives impressions of imbolc through the emergence of the characters’ identities alongside the growth of springtime . . . coinciding with the death of the evil crone and the day the sun in this world sheds its crystal veils by reaching equinoctial strength . . . ~
The foundling Lailee was named after the music of spring larks. “Lay-lay-lay” and “lee-lee-lee-lee” trilled from plum blossoms. Castle workers claimed that she slid from the feathers of her namesakes. Lightness, swiftness and agility proclaimed the fable as possibility. Her voice held a deep musicality. Her soul held a respect for authority. Change was not resisted, only unfairness. Once, speaking out against it, Lailee received a thorough lashing by the cook. At five years of age, she ran into the the one place she was sure to find peace: Minwood.
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~ snow drops retells the snow queen through the lens of butch-femme relationships and femme invisibility . . . it speaks imbolc with spring’s connection to hope and returning life but, equally, because of Gerda’s maidenhood . . . her personal coming-of-age and her connection with all things flowering . . . ~
One look into that unforgiving mirror
Miz Frost’s Park Avenue life and
Kay feels shabby in her frayed jeans
studded rainbow belt
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~ imbolc is a celebration of light over dark . . . the sun over night . . . life over death . . . the horned man takes place in one night and the morning after, with the parallelism of love over lust entwined to the other themes . . . after all, what’s a queer story without both . . . ~
A young man sat reading by a comfortable fire late one winter night while his father and mother and younger brothers slept fast away upstairs in their fine house made of stone. A loud knock, urgently struck, brought up him from his chair. Thinking it must be a neighbor and not wanting his family to wake, the young man moved quickly to the stout oaken door and undid the heavy iron latch.
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~ as the old becomes renewed . . . night transforms to day . . . we look to the melting frost and lilt of the robin . . . soon our thoughts will turn to the balance of night and day at the vernal equinox, the fertility of springtime as we continue our journey ~