Fives logo – a stylised number five

with Dana Levin

The last thing that made you smile

Talking about the horrendous news of the day (this now needs a trademark) with my sister via FaceTime while hiding our faces behind our long hippie hair (it seemed the only appropriate response to the horrendous news of the day™).

A secret

Now if I tell you, it won’t be a secret anymore, right?

The last thing you wrote

“The story does not truck in the usual effects of horror: evoking, in the reader, inchoate feelings of dread, alarm, vigilance. Indeed the story is told in the past tense, after horror is through. The diction and point of view of the narrator drips with judgement and knowledge: about her innocent self, her husband, his house, his gifts, the situation she found herself in. When she tells us the piano tuner is ‘of course’ blind, there’s awareness there of the ‘of course’ nature of metaphor in the hands of fairytale, of the ‘of course’ nature of her virginal folly in marrying, ‘of course,’ a contemporary Bluebeard. Thus, I must conclude, that despite the title of the story, the creation of dread is not Carter’s real aim. She’s after nausea and corruption, as affects of objectification, states that arise out of being possessed by the material world, without recourse to spirit, mind, heart. It’s why narrator’s abandonment of music—her strongest expressive agency—is a factor in the story.” (on The Bloody Chamber by Angela Carter)

Your favourite city

New York City on a crisp autumn day, leaves turning and falling.

What you’d place in a time capsule

Myself (see item 1, above).

Dana Levin is the author of four books of poetry, including Banana Palace (Copper Canyon Press, 2016). She serves as Distinguished Writer in Residence at Maryville University in St. Louis, Missouri.