Comedy is tragedy that happens to other people.

I'm a 24-year-old Southerner with a BA in English Literary Studies. Femme, bisexual, feminist, and a rape survivor. If you want to know more, check out my About Me or just ask.


Like the wild beasts, she lives without a future. She inhabits only the present tense, a fugue of the continuous, a world of sensual immediacy as without hope as it is without despair.

His touch both consoles and devastates me; I feel my heart pulse, then wither, naked as a stone on the roaring mattress while the lovely, moony night slides through the window to dapple the flanks of this innocent who makes cages to keep the sweet birds in. Eat me, drink me; thirsty, cankered, goblin-ridden, I go back and back to him to have his fingers strip the tattered skin away and clothe me in his dress of water, this garment that drenches me, its slithering odour, its capacity for drowning.


When I saw him look at me with lust, I dropped my eyes but, in glancing away from him, I caught sight of myself in the mirror. And I saw myself, suddenly, as he saw me, my pale face, the way the muscles in my neck stuck out like thin wire. I saw how much that cruel necklace became me. And, for the first time in my innocent and confined life, I sensed in myself a potentiality for corruption that took my breath away.

(Source: millymcaulay)



If you haven’t heard it, here it is…

'Choker', a taster track from our debut album out 14/07/14 on FatCat Records.

This song is loosely based on a short story by Angela Carter called ‘The Bloody Chamber’.

Mostly, it’s about not letting anybody fuck you around, even when they are trying to kill you. Fuck that shit.

Hope u likey! X

“A good writer can make you believe time stands still. Yet the end of all stories, even if the writer forbears to mention it, is death, which is where our time stops short. Scheherazade knew this, which is why she kept on spinning another story out of the bowels of the last one, never coming to a point where she could say: ‘This is the end.’ Because it would have been. We travel along the thread of narrative like high-wire artistes. That is our life. ”

—   Angela Carter (7 May 1940 - 16 February 1992)

“For hours, for days, for years, she had wandered endlessly within herself but never met anybody, nobody. She had given herself to the world in her entirety and then found nothing was left.”

—   The Passion of New Eve by Angela Carter (7 May 1940 -16 February 1992)

“Proposition one: time is a man. space is a woman.
Proposition two: time is a killer.
Proposition three: kill time and live forever.”

—   The Passion of New Eve by Angela Carter (7 May 1940 - 16 February 1992)

“She didn’t want to be a muse; and had a perfectly horrid time being one. Because you can’t take muses in any degree seriously as a human being, or else they stop being a muse; they start being something that hasn’t come to inspire you, but a being with all these problems.”

—   Black Venus, Angela Carter (via thenomadicmermaid)

“Surviving photographs of Lizzie Borden show a face it is difficult to look at as if you knew nothing about her; coming events cast their shadow across her face, or else you see the shadows these events have cast — something terrible, something ominous in this face with its jutting, rectangular jaw and those mad eyes of the New England saints, eyes that belong to a person who does not listen to you…fanatic’s eyes, you might say, if you knew nothing about her. If you were sorting through a box of old photographs in a junk shop and came across this particular, sepia, faded face above the choked collars of the 1890’s, you might murmur when you saw her: “Oh, what big eyes you have!” as Red Riding Hood said to the wolf, but then you might not even pause to pick her out and look at her more closely, for hers is not, in itself, a striking face.

But as soon as the face has a name, once you recognise her, when you know who she is and what it was she did, the face becomes as if of one possessed, and now it haunts you, you look at it again and again, it secretes mystery.”

—   "The Fall River Axe Murders" from Saints and Strangers by Angela Carter

“As is well known within my circle, I use the name ‘Angela Carter’ only in order to gain publication by feminist presses and am in reality a Church of England vicar. I hope this assuages at least some of the humiliation Arthur Marwick felt at being reviewed by a woman.”

—   Angela Carter, responding to an angry writer complaining about having his book reviewed by a woman (“In the six months since publication I have learned a number of lessons, including: a. literary editors (male usually) believe that anything mentioning ‘beauty’ should automatically go to a female reviewer; and b. female reviewers, if they do not immediately encounter the comforting myths of the women’s magazines and the routine feminist denunciations of male oppression, are not prepared to contemplate the possibility that the author might have other serious purposes in mind.”)

(Source: autobeguiled)

“On first day of her writing workshop during the year she spent at Brown, a student asked Angela Carter, “Well, what’s your work like?”
Carter is reported to have paused a bit and then said, “My work cuts like a steel blade at the base of a man’s penis.””

—   Amitava Kumar

(Source: litafficionado)