Italian Hours

[Information about my other writing can be found here. Happy reading!]

 Ciao, amici! It's been a travel-rich summer with no time to blog, since I spent most of June in the Rockies and explored Italy for the month of July. Eventually I'll post about the West, but this one's all about bella Italia. I'd visited there many years ago and it was a pleasure to return, especially since nothing went seriously wrong, the places we stayed were uniformly comfortable, and everyone we met kindly tolerated my rusty struggles with their native tongue.

Hub had a week-long conference at Pisa, after which we explored Tuscany and Umbria by train before ending up in Venice. We visited as many towns as our schedule and stamina would permit, with a preference for new territory. Since we never got enough of Venice, we gave ourselves three days there to crown our travels. Unlike my past visits, this time I had a camera with me, and I nearly wore it out. Click on the images to enlarge them to full size.

 During our week at Pisa we stayed at this former monastery. Although the monks had long departed, their church was still in active use, and its early Mass bells were our wake-up call.

An evening view of what Pisa is famous for, peeking out behind its companions. They all look a bit off-kilter to me.

Assisi with its immense church dedicated to St. Francis, viewed from our hotel window. The local bus spared us what would have been a stiffish climb.

A monk enjoys the cool of the Assisi evening. Compared to the throngs of pilgrims and tourists I remember from my first visit back in the 80s, Assisi seemed very quiet this time.

The tranquil Tuscan landscape viewed from 
the heights of ancient, austere Todi.

One of mighty-walled Perugia's massive Etruscan/Roman gates; the traffic sign gives an idea of its size. The Umbrian Jazz Festival was in full swing while we were visiting, and we wandered the town enjoying free music from stage acts and street musicians.

 
A street in Spello, one of the loveliest places in Tuscany.

 Another view of Spello. I loved its unspoiled, unstudied charm, and hope its citizens someday decide to lessen (or better yet, eliminate) car traffic through the narrow streets, a regrettable feature of Italy's medieval towns.

Gloria! An ecstatic upward-yearning angel on a 

chapel fresco in gracious, art-filled Modena.

 

What Chaucer would call a 'a verray, parfit, gentil knyght,' found gracing a wall of Modena's archaeological museum. The sculpture's low relief and other aspects of its style remind me of Egyptian art, making me wonder if this unknown paladin was a Crusader.

 A stately pleasure-dome indeed: the fantastic pavilion at the luxurious Tettuccio Spa in Montecatini Terme, a resort once frequented by the likes of Audrey Hepburn, Clark Gable and Sofia Loren. Taking the waters is a declining pastime now, and as a result the pavilion is only open for special events. By lucky chance a charity gala was going on, and the door guard let us in to look around. 

 Towers and church spires of the hilltop old quarter of Arezzo spike the horizon in this view from our hotel's roof terrace. Touristed mostly by Italians who come for its classic ambiance, annual jousting tournament and association with the film La vita è bella (Life Is Beautiful), Arezzo is a gem of a town, full of beauty, vitality and warmth. So few Americans visit Arezzo that Hub and I, who are both blondish, were routinely mistaken for Germans.

No, I don't own a time machine, and these soldiers aren't discussing their upcoming campaign against the Picts. They're Roman re-enactors at the amphitheater ruins in Arezzo, looking perfectly at home in legionary gear.

Bologna, which I'd loved at first sight years ago, had changed very much. Still, I was intrigued by a sculpture show in one of the courtyards, full of stylized slaughter and rapine. Viewers could get as close to as they liked and the place was packed, but somehow I managed to take a few snaps that weren't crowded with people, like the picture above.

Padua's university district, dating from the Middle Ages. Graduation was going on, and we watched students celebrating with friends and family in hilarious ceremonies steeped in ancient tradition--costumes, speeches, jokes and songs, accompanied by lots of wine. Despite all the fun, I could tell it was a very proud moment for everyone concerned. In Modena I saw honorees crowned with actual laurel wreaths. 

The Roman acqueduct at Spoleto, flanked by a monastery and a fortress, the latter built to guard the water supply. Spoleto's famous music festival had just ended, but there was much else to enjoy, from the giant Calder sculpture in front of the train station to the winding maze of medieval streets and the wonderful architecture from every century.

 

The striking, typically Tuscan banded-marble cathedral in Pistoia, one of several such buildings in the city's old center. The weekly market was taking place when we visited, making for a lively, crowded scene.

Pistoia's a bit rough around the edges, and I saw a lot of faces that would fit in perfectly with this detail from the c. 1525 terra-cotta reliefs depicting the Seven Works of Mercy on the loggia of the Ospedale del Ceppo. The hospital was founded in 1277, enlarged after the Black Death in 1348, and is still used as an administration building.

On a typically broiling Venice summer day this gondolier wisely waits in the shade for customers, who should appear very soon. Despite the high prices for rides (starting at about $80 a half-hour), I saw far many more gondole in action on this visit than I did during my first trip years ago. Mainland Chinese seemed to make up a large fraction of the clientele this time.

Palazzi on the Grand Canal. Since 2011 is a Biennale year and many countries rent floors of beautiful buildings like these to serve as galleries, Hub and I had the glorious opportunity to enjoy not only the art exhibits, but the wonderful rooms once inhabited by noble families. I loved the frescoed walls and ceilings, terrazzo and inlay floors, and magnificent balcony views of the most fascinating main street in all the world.

A water view of the Piazza San Marco, taken during the ten-minute trip back to our lodgings on the Lido. We had a 3-day pass for unlimited vaporetto rides to all parts of Venice and the outlying islands, and it was always a pleasure to cruise down the Grand Canal on our way home. The Lido was a restful, small-town-feeling, welcome break from the tourist mobs.

A detail from one of the medieval 15th-century column capitals of the doge's palace at Saint Mark's square. The theme is the Seven Deadly Sins, and this panel features Gluttony. Hub insisted that the greedy lady is devouring a cone of gelato rather than a chicken drumstick, probably in allusion to my own passion for Italy's amazing ice cream. (For what it's worth, you can see the bird's claws just below Gluttony's clutching hand.)

I took hundreds more pictures, but these few give an idea of how much I enjoyed my return trip to a country that has given me countless things of beauty from the most distant past to the present moment, all of them joys forever. 

Now that I'm home and settled in for a while, I'll be putting all my efforts into getting Queen of Time published. As soon as it's live, I'll be posting the news here.

Arrivederci,

CK

Just Up!

(For more of my writing, click here.)

My Norse-themed tale The Kind Gods was published today in the current issue of Bewildering Stories, a speculative fiction e-zine with a venerable reputation and a multiplicity of offerings in the form of short fiction, novellas, novel excerpts, nonfiction contributions, and reviews.

You're invited to read the story and check out my BwS bio, and if you're inclined to engage in a discussion of The Kind Gods, feel free to at the bottom of the page of Challenge 429.

The story has been getting thousands of downloads on Smashwords, and many readers consider it a classic. Enjoy!

CK

A-Maying

(Note: information about my other writing can be found here.)

La la! It's May, the lusty month of May!

That darling month when ev'ryone throws self-control away! ~Camelot, the musical

"So it befell in the month of May, Queen Guenever called unto her knights of the Table Round; and she gave them warning that early upon the morrow she would ride a-Maying into woods and fields beside Westminster." ~ Sir Thomas Malory, Le Morte d'Arthur

I like to think that Guinevere, a lady I admire despite her often taxing behavior (I'd have let my knights sleep in), was singing  Kalenda Maya during her diversions. A medieval ballad in honor of May Day, it was a smash hit in its time; an authentic-sounding (to me at least) version of it can be found here, and the lyrics with English translation are here (along with an automatic midi file that plays when the site loads, so be warned).

Which leads me to some gently cautionary verse from a more complicated century:

"How vainly men themselves amaze
To win the palm, the oak, or bays ;
And their uncessant labors see
Crowned from some single herb or tree,
Whose short and narrow-vergèd shade
Does prudently their toils upbraid ;
While all the flowers and trees do close
To weave the garlands of repose." ~from The Garden, by Andrew Marvell (c. 1650)

Marvell, whose last name wonderfully describes his poetry, was using botanical shorthand to indicate the honors men strive for, or once did: palm for saintly endeavors, oak for great deeds civic or martial, bays for artistic achievement. I've vainly amazed myself in pursuit of the latter all my writing life, and will continue in the quest no matter how quixotic--always remembering that I owe that adjective to Cervantes, who also wryly noted "I know well what the temptations of the devil are, and that one of the greatest is putting it into a man's head that he can write and print a book by which he will get as much fame as money, and as much money as fame" (Don Quixote, Book II).

But if I had leisure to construct a garland of repose, it'd be made of irises and peonies just now, since they're growing in lush Spring profusion all around the house. Huge ruffly showy blooms they are, and would make a glorious Pre-Raphaelitish sort of crown, or fetching noggin-toppers like those sported by the brazen nymphs in the divinely preposterous Chevalier Aux Fleurs (1894). Click image for a big view.

May the Muses guide and cherish their elect,

CK

Double Happiness Chocolate Cake

 Life can always use a rich bit of sweetness. Today I made my never-fail Italian chocolate cake, and feel as if I really must share it with the world. It's easy, simple, and never goes wrong, highly desirable qualities under any circumstance but absolutely heavenly in this instance.

Note: This recipe doesn't require a mixer. A wooden spoon works fine, although I use a whisk to stir the batter once it's assembled.

  Double Happiness Cake

The Yang of dark rich chocolate cake
Meets with the Yin of smooth delicate chocolate cream,
And both meld in a glazed caramel Nirvana.

This recipe makes a European-style single layer cake frosted with ganache and drizzled with caramel. Measurements are American, with the assumption that your butter is 4 sticks to a pound. The sequence of steps begins with the

Cake:

1 stick butter, room temperature                                       
1 ½ cups white flour
1 ¼ cup white sugar            
1 tsp. baking soda 
1 tsp. baking powder
2 eggs                    
½ tsp. salt
½ cup Hershey’s cocoa powder        
1 tsp. vanilla
1 cup hot coffee

Cream the butter with the sugar. Add eggs one by one and beat to golden smoothness. 

Stir the cocoa into the hot coffee until blended, and pour into the butter mixture. Add dry ingredients. 

Whisk well and pour into a well-greased and floured 9-inch round baking pan lined at the bottom with waxed paper. Bake at 325 degrees for 30 minutes. The critical part is not letting it bake too dry, so watch the last few minutes closely. This cake never fails. Promise.
 
Ganache Frosting: Heat 2 cups heavy whipping cream in a saucepan along with an 8 to 12-ounce bag of semisweet chocolate chips depending on how strong you like the flavor. Refrigerate until it’s thickened, then whip it to a fluff and frost the cake with it. Once you’ve done that, move on to the finishing touch—

Caramel Drizzle:

1 stick butter
1 cup firmly packed dark brown sugar
¼ cup milk
1 tsp. vanilla
2 cups confectioner’s sugar

Melt the butter in a small saucepan (use a nonstick one if you have it). Add the brown sugar, and bring the mixture slowly to a boil. Add the milk in a stream, whisking all the while, and bring the mixture to a boil again. Remove the pan from the heat, let the mixture cool to warm, then stir in the vanilla and slowly add the confectioner’s sugar sifted through a sieve, beating to a smooth consistency. Drizzle this in Jackson Pollock style over the cake. 

Variation if you have the time: Split the cake and fill it with the ganache, then top with French chocolate glaze, then apply the caramel drizzle. This is what I do if I'm feeling very fancy.

French Chocolate Glaze: Put a half cup of cocoa powder into a glass bowl with about ½ cup of sugar, a lump of butter, and a dash of water. Microwave about 15 seconds. Take it out and stir to get everything mixed smooth. Microwave again for about 30 seconds and stir again; add a dash of vanilla. You’ll know when it looks right. It’ll thicken a bit as it cools.

Serve each slice with a dollop of sweetened whipped cream sprinkled with cocoa. Accept the inevitable homage with grace and serenity.

CK

Remembered Beauty

“From the withered tree, a flower.” ~Zen proverb

I've loved Japan since childhood, and the beauty of its culture has continued to enrich my life in countless ways. Its language is able to define the ineffable: wabi-sabi, shibui, mono no aware, mottainai. Visiting Tokyo and Kyoto in 2008 was the fulfillment of a dream for me, and now as I try to comprehend the horrifying news images from the earthquake, what I most remember is how kind everyone was, and how gracious and patient. Those memories give me hope.

Out of my wrung heart, the wish to live mindfully, spending each instant in the best possible way; to do all I can to help as much as I can. Out of the withered branch, a flower.

The following photographs were taken by me during my Japan visit, and reflect the spiritual strength I found everywhere. Click twice on them for the biggest view. (For a related post, see https://carolynkephart.blogspot.com/2008/11/deep-sweet-ineffable.html.)

A granite prayer wheel. Heavy as it looks,
the slightest touch moves it -- a lesson in stone.

A quiet shrine on a rainy day.

The Buddha of Old Fans,
its altar-table piled with offerings.

A favorite temple, serene and restful.

A Buddhist monk chanting in the street.

A shrine fountain with the inscription

"I live for the joy."

CK

Smashwords Read An E-Book Week Sale

I'm late about getting around to this announcement, but...

As part of the ongoing Read An E-Book Week celebration, all of my novels are on sale for half price at Smashwords with the coupon code RAE50, including The Ryel Saga: A Tale of Love and Magic. My short fiction, which is getting thousands of downloads, is still free (all five stories are collected in a single volume, PenTangle: Five Pointed Fables, also half price).

Mark Coker*, you rock!

CK

*Founder of Smashwords and all-around great guy

Springing Forward

I'm delighted to announce that Luna Station Quarterly has published my wryly nostalgic fairy tale Everafter Acres as its Spring issue Story of the Week. The encouraging reception of my first humorous work of fiction just at the start of my favorite season is inspiring the light-hearted side of me, and I can promise that more droll tales are in the offing. 

Click on the image to read it, with my compliments. More of my writing can be found here.

:-)

CK

So Much Now

The worst of the year is officially over. Yesterday I found daffodils blooming in the back yard, fragile but dauntless, pushing their gentle way through the litter of dead leaves. The contrast of fresh green and yellow against the withered browns and grays is a reassuring triumph. Winter can't last. Sorrow has a limit. We take strength, and move into the light. I look forward to warm breezes and bared limbs, and hopefully some baby foxes scampering around the brush pile in May, as they did, enchantingly, a couple of years ago; I saw what looked very like the mother fox today, who seemed to be considering re-tenancy.

The other day I completed She of the Silver Feet, a short story unlike anything I've ever written before, very light and frothy on the surface but roiling with implication, and am sending it to magazines. I'm delighted that another of my short pieces, a fairy-tale pastiche called Everafter Acres, will be published March 1 in Luna Station Quarterly.

Namaste,

CK

Just For The Lovely

By wonderful chance I found The Kaleidoscope Painter last night. It's free, charming, and gorgeous--the perfect antidote to cold gray winter. Here's a pattern I constructed in a few seconds:

  

I love to just put the designer on Auto and enjoy it as my mandala mantra while I meditate. There's a Valentine Kaleidoscope maker, too.


And for another small escape, Fly Guy is a classic. Just load the game at the site, click the arrows, soar, and explore.

Have fun!


CK

Imperial Opulence

The new Sovran of Almancar had swept in like another sunset, arrayed magnificently in trailing raiment of deep rose satin brocaded in emerald-blue. A light mantle fell in a rustling torrent of gold-silk mosaic, its collar framing his head, its folds rippling about his shoulders to the ground...


The fabled city of Almancar is one of my favorite places in The Ryel Saga, because it is synonymous with the most refined luxury. It was a deep pleasure to create, and in doing so I drew from many times and places. Medieval Japan was a great influence. When I visited Tokyo and Kyoto in 2008, I was surprised at how much of the ancient glory not only survived, but thrived. In particular, the elegant garments that inspired the golden robes of my novel's nobility are still being made. The uchikake, at one time daily wear for Japanese aristocratic ladies, is now strictly wedding finery, to be worn by the bride during the ceremony and never afterward. Such magnificent garments take a year to create, and no two are alike; they are made of the finest silk, splendidly woven, dyed, and embroidered, and as is only fitting, they cost a fortune. A uchikake is worn beltless, as a coat atop the kimono; its padded hem trails several feet, and its hanging sleeves just clear the floor. With its elegance, opulence and otherworldliness, it is truly the garb of fantasy.


For the sultry climate of Almancar I made the uchikake much more light and airy, but changed nothing of its grandeur. Both men and women wear them in my novel, but exorbitant cost and stringent sumptuary laws limit their use to the wealthy and the nobility. The sole exceptions are the courtesans of the Diamond Heaven, Almancar's famed and magnificent pleasure quarter, and that district's clientele, who come from all over the world to taste the ruinous delights of the place.


Here are some glorious examples. Click the images for larger views, and imagine the rustle, the gleam, the grace.

 

CK

La Belle et la Bête

NEWS: I'm delighted to announce that in the last week I've received an award for Top Indie Fantasy of 2010 at the well-regarded site Red Adept Reviews.

*****

I seem to write only fables. All of my short stories are about lessons learned the hard way, and the Ryel Saga's ending fulfills with bittersweet irony the prophesy uttered by one of the story's most equivocal characters: 'You will have what you wish, but not as you wished it." The novel I'm now finishing, Faustine, is grounded in myth and legend, with a female protagonist embroiled in the classic diabolical bargain.*

The other day I was browsing the free movie site Veoh and to my happiness found one of my all-time favorite films, Jean Cocteau's La Belle et La Bête. I hadn't seen it in many years, and while I loved every moment of the re-acquaintance, I especially savored being able to replay the Beast sequences to my heart's delight. Everything about the Beast is riveting--his feral grace, his dark bejeweled Cavalier garb, his growly voice's savage inflections and courtly phrases, his ravenous desires quelled by the most tender adoration. Baroque, Byronic, utterly irresistible.

My favorite scene occurs midpoint in the film. The Beast has returned reeking from the hunt, his fangs and claws stained with fresh blood, his elegant attire muddied and torn. After a moment's hesitation he shoves open the door to Beauty's chamber and scans the room with burning eyes.

But Beauty is absent. "Ou est Belle?" he shouts in rage and terror to her mirror; and the glass reveals her robed like an angel, listening at the door. When she returns to the chamber and demands that he leave, the Beast, quelled by her fearless indignation, stammers that he merely wished to offer her a present, and it forms by magic in his bloodied hairy hand: three strands of great pearls, the gems of innocence clasped by diamond roses, reminding us that until Beauty came into his life the Beast considered roses 'the things I most love in all the world ' (ce que j'aime le mieux au monde). Disregarding the gift, Beauty again orders the Beast to leave; but her tone is more gentle the second time.

As he departs without a backward glance, his steps unsteady, the Beast passes a statue of a nymph; his hand grips its shoulder for support, then slowly travels downward to caress the bare marble breast of the image in a poignant gesture of regret and yearning. I'd never noticed this before, and it gave me chills, for it is the only overtly sensual act in the entire film, and leaves no doubt as to the Beast's intentions.

Since 1946 when this enrapturing film was made, cinema has become a thousandfold more complex, but no amount of special effects can take the place of heart. See it if you haven't yet, and watch it again if you have; one can never have too much beauty.

CK


(Click the photos to enlarge them; they deserve it!)

*Update, 17 December 2013: This book was completed in 2012 and published under the title Queen of Time. It's currently available digitally and in paperback at most online booksellers; the first chapters can be read gratis at my website Carolyn Kephart: Tales of Love and Magic.

Just Out!

I've gathered five of my short stories into a collection entitled PenTangle: Five Pointed Fables. It's available for the Kindle at Amazon.com, and will be appearing soon at Barnes and Noble, Smashwords, and various other e-book stores. (If it isn't listed as available, give it a day or so.)

Although I'd originally thought of using an actual pentangle for the cover, it looked too literal and didn't really fit the content. I finally decided on a starfish, because they're so strange and lovely.

The stories are all very short, fantastical, and meant to elicit reflection:

   The Kind Gods: Did the old gods really die? A warrior seeks answers at the burial-mound of his greatest enemy.
   The Heart's Desire: A government scryer's life is a prison until she and her bodyguard discover the ultimate secret language.
   Last Laughter: A cautionary tale about a wicked court jester and his comeuppance. First published in Silver Blade Fantasy Quarterly.
   Regenerated: Cela always hoped she’d find Jorgen again someday…but was this really Jorgen? A tenderly bitter tale of love and giant lizards, first published in Quantum Muse.
   Everafter Acres: Happily Ever After isn’t always perfect, but dark knights can be illuminating.

Five's my lucky number, so I'm hoping the book does well.

CK

Hot News

Today my novel The Ryel Saga: A Tale Of Love And Magic is being featured on the popular e-book site Daily Cheap Reads, and as an extra boost to the day I've been interviewed at Two Ends of the Pen, a terrific writers' blog.

What a great way to end the week!

Unreasonable Things

Oh, reason not the need! ~King Lear

During the Fall season I become at once nostalgic and merciless. I remember the past and either want it back or wish that it had never happened, and I sort out and/or get rid of whatever I feel I no longer have a need for. Useless knicknacks and trinkets, clothes that no longer suit me, shoes that never were comfortable, books and magazines that only take up space and collect dust, beliefs that no longer hold water...away with them. Winter is a spare, lean season only weeks away now, and I want to meet it on its own terms.

But some things I keep in defiance of mutability or reason. I love paper with a scribe's reverence (I love pens too, but that's another fetish for another blog entry). Empty books I'll probably always leave blank, delicate handmade washi  I just like to look at, origami paper too lovely to wreck by folding...I keep them safe and dry and bring them out now and then to contemplate, imagining possibilities. Here are some I recently collected on my travels to Japan and Taiwan; click on the images to enlarge them.

 Very fine origami paper. The picture doesn't do justice to the splendor of the gold highlights.

 A Japanese gift topper. I just can't bear to give it away yet.

An empty book that says it all, in shiny white with black flocked velvet. 

Anything I wrote in it would seem futile.

I suppose I acquired this in the naive hope that the contents would magically open up into the swan pictured on the wrapper. Had I looked closer I'd have realized that I'm expected to construct the bird myself from the enclosed myriad of tiny pink and red squares of paper. Maybe in my next life...

A couple of extremely teensy models (only a couple of inches high) based on very large buildings. I can't bring myself to pop them out of the cardboard and construct them.

A perfect notebook for an ironic angst-filled autobiography.
I'm saving it for later.

Regarding writing matters, I was recently interviewed by David Wisehart on his popular blog Kindle Author. David asked an intriguing array of questions that I greatly enjoyed answering. See what you think!

Namaste,

CK