The Spine and Its Tingle: Horse, Flower, Bird

In keeping with the fairy tale theme this winter, I recently read Horse, Flower, Bird by fairy tale maven Kate Bernheimer. Bernheimer is the creator of the Gold Sisters (Lucy, Ketzia, and Merry) and editor of Fairy Tale Review. She's also the editor of My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me and Mirror, Mirror on the Wall.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Horse, Flower, Bird is one of those books you can read in about an hour; the text is sparse, with a few simple line illustrations here and there, and the characters are vague, wistful, and lead sad, sometimes secretive, lives. These stories bring to mind the off-kilter novels and fairy tale variations of Barbara Comyns, with similar elements of magical realism. Bernheimer depicts slightly surreal worlds in miniature, as if she were crafting haunted or derelict dollhouses inhabited by birds, people in cages, tiny horses, forlorn tulip bulbs waiting for spring, imaginary friends (that eventually run away), and little girls with webbed toes. In several stories, the shadow of the Holocaust lurks in the background, which lends a certain gravity to these bittersweet tales.

Illustration for Poe's The Oval Portrait

In "Whitework", which is based on Edgar Allen Poe's "The Oval Portrait" and probably my favorite story in the collection, the reader is transported to a cottage tucked away deep in the woods where wine is served in tea cups by a faithful but silent companion: "I should have been very happy to be lame and blurred, to have my companion bring me teacups of wine at night, and in the morning my coffee and rolls. I never minded that the rolls were so tough to the bite that my teeth had become quite loose in their sockets, as loose as my brain or the bluebirds in the forest when their nests are looted by ravens." There's also a "code" hidden in this story, a sort of key to the mystery and allure of fairy tales and their influence on readers and writers. In her notes for "Whitework" in My Mother She Killed Me, My Father He Ate Me, Bernheimer says, "Certainly, it could be said to be a story about the anxiety of influence, or, perhaps more aptly, the influence of anxiety—it contains the code to my work with fairy tales as a writer, I think. But the code is submerged, just as secrets should be."


Whitework

My only complaint about the content of the book is that it's far too short. I felt as though I'd barely immersed myself in this strange little world before I came to the end and was thrust out of it again. Also, I'd suggest buying a physical copy of the book rather than the eBook version because the latter doesn't handle the illustrations well. Overall, Bernheimer's body of work is impressive and I highly recommend this book, as well as Bernheimer's The Complete Tales of Ketzia Gold.