(no subject)
Narcis-’s Oeuvre.
To Boletaria, a sonnet-cycle. A love-oath to Boletaria, the Goddess of the Mushroom, and in Nocturnal fashion an allegory for the bounty of the Neath. A bit much for the commission - a mushroom wholesaler looking for verse on the harvest - and lacking mycological accuracy, but the patron in question was very pleased with it.
Confessions Of A Honey-Sipper, a series of articles published in The Magazine Formerly Known As The London Magazine. Perfumed pleasure-gardens. Cities of glass suspended between blue sea and blue sky. An ancient library of scroll-shelves that promise a cure for the soul. A graveyard of thrones and a toast to death defied. Delicious.
My Lady’s Bat, a lament. A translation of Catullus to Neathlife. Could the poet have had a particular lady in mind?
The Mounting Excitement When One’s Beloved Reaches The Closest Point Of His Orbit, a symphony in the Correspondence. An experiment. A failure. Still, it takes savvy to marshal seven one-eyed xylophonists to a stage, and the Empress seemed to know the tune.
Hic Situs Et Phaethon, a choral requiem. Despite the title - an allusion to the son of Helios, whose fall was great, for greatly did he dare - this work lacks a dedication. Its grief, however, is evident. The music soars and wails.
March of the Satyroi, a cannonade. Ambitious, yes. In poor taste? Yes. And why the return of the seven one-eyed xylophonists? That only impresses once, you know.
Oratio Sancta Caecilia, a hymn. The song of Saint Cecilia’s soul. Music as a miracle. Quite rousing. Is this really the same composer as March of the Satyroi?
The Clay Quarters, a ballet. A tale of love and transformation in the depths. The maze of the Clay Quarters is the maze of the heart. Notable for providing a platform to genuine Clay dancers, whose stomping provided a much-needed rhythm to the action.
Suasion, a rather more scandalous ballet. Aphrodite’s daughter Peitho, or Lady Suasion, goes to visit dark-minded Melinoe in Hades, but is distracted by the beauties of the Neath - so says the libretto. It featured a lithesome Rubbery Dancer, and a riot broke out not far into the first act. The performers danced on.
Chastity And Continence (But Not Yet), an opera. A hagiographical romp. A young man, sent to the monastery to cure his wild ways, prays to the Lord to ‘grant me chastity and continence, but not yet.’ That night, he dreams of the saints who passed before him. Fair enough. But the opera’s interpretation of the saints was, to say the least, liberal. The Bishop of Southwark did not approve. No one approved, and yet another riot broke out.
Tristan Bagley’s The Bell And The Candle, an opera in the Correspondence. A work erotic beyond the human experience. It speaks of enamorment with the unseen sky, of desperation for the endless spaces between stars, of furious lust for the striking of bells. The Bell’s Aria is a thing of hatred, of impossible desire, of revenge and bright burning joy. It didn’t end in a riot, quite, but it did end in an orgy.
If Music Be The Food Of Love: Exploring the Bagley Notation System and the Linguistics of Longing, a monograph. An exposition on the Correspondence notation evidenced in the manuscript of Tristan Bagley’s The Bell And The Candle, as well as an expansion. It argues that art is by nature transcendent, the Correspondence is by use transcendent, and the two make perfect bedfellows. It may overuse the word ‘sublime.’
The Mounting Excitement &c, a glass violoncello concerto in the Correspondence. Less involved than the first work by this title, more successful. One feels real longing for one’s orbiting beloved.
La Signora Del Crepuscolo, a glass violin and violoncello double concerto in the Correspondence. The heady kiss of freedom, a rush to joy as to blue water. Innocence, garbed as experience. The casting off of clothing to dance, or to swim. A glance shared on either side of a glass wall. Love that immolates lover and beloved, and blinds whatever fool would dare look on. A confession best unspoken. The surrender the Sun makes of the Sky to Night.
Secrets Of The Salon, an article in The Sunday Septentrional. Everything you need to know about fan-language, and more!
- and sundry verses to The Rat-Catcher’s Daughter, Roll Your Leg Over, The Girls Of Mr Veils, &c.