Wakefield's edition of her early story collection, The Arthritic Grasshopper, is excellent even by their standards, with cool original art and a great introduction about Prassinos in relation to the sexist surrealist milieu by Bo Ruberg of all people.

the thing that strikes me with her earliest stories, which she started at 14, is how imagistic they are. People reading often comment on how full of non-sequiturs and narratives that don't make sense, but that's because they're not narrative. It's like Prassinos is writing ekphrasis of non-existent Varo pieces and viewed in that light I think her writing isn't all that difficult to parse, which certainly doesn't mean it's not really interesting.
The Book of Monelle engages a lot with the kind of stuff i tend to complain about in surrealist and proto-surrealist texts, in terms of the idealization of an innocent woman as this sort of grand philosophical muse and symbol, but the thing is it delves so deeply into some of the thoughts around this that it ends up feeling like a metaphysics of suffering girlhood, a symbolic system where the core is that young women suffer and the rest of society dwells on their backs. and while there's plenty of feminist analysis to bring to that, it's a lot more *interesting* than most things in this dimension and a lot more generative for me to think about. according the afterword Schwob was someone who collaged a lot and reinterpreted texts and that's also very interesting to me
i get a lot of out, especially in The Hearing Trumpet and some of her shorts, how colorful and optimistic she ends up being. A lot of surrealist novels by women dive heavily into this kind of suffocating abuse - which, don't get me wrong, is something i tend to find really relatable and powerful - but Carrington feels like she has such a connection to the lines of escape, as it were. like The Hearing Trumpet proposes, freedom is possible through the power of female friendship across time and space. also with the power of being old and weird which, again, is really refreshing in a milieu that tends to heavily value the young, fragile girl as either muse or marginalized subject.

that is to say, there's a warmth to Carrington that makes me want to cry.
every male surrealist: ah my woman the sweet animalistic purity and madness that is my muse!
every female surrealist: if another one of these guys tries to talk to me I'm going to kill myself

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M.I. Gelb

September 2025

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