Clare Pollard > Quotes

“On account of their puny size and disappointing taste, in France wild pears are known as "poires d'angoisse" or pears of anguish. In Versailles, though, in the kitchen garden, pears are bred for pleasure. Of the five hundred pear trees, the best usually fruit in January--- the royal favorite, a type called "Bon Chrétien d'Hiver," or "Good Christian of Winter." Each pear is very large--- the blossom end engorged, the eye deeply sunk--- whilst the skin is a finely grained pale yellow, with a red blush on the side that has been touched by the sunlight. It is known for its brittle, lightly scented, almost translucent flesh that drips with a sugary juice; that soaks your mouth when your teeth sink into it. The gardener here, Jean-Baptiste de La Quintinie, says that when a pear is ripe its neck yields to the touch and smells slightly of wet roses.
This winter they have not ripened, though, but have frozen to solid gold. Murders of crows sit on the branches of the pear trees, pecking at the rime of them. They have become fairy fruit; those dangling impossibilities. What would you give to taste one?

Spring always comes, though. Is it not magic? The world's deep magic.
March brings the vast respite of thaw, that huge unburdening, that gentling--- all winter's knives and jaws turning soft and blunt; little chunks of ice riding off on their own giddy melt; everything dripping and plipping and making little streams and rivulets; tender pellucid fingers feeling their way towards the sea; all the tiny busywork.
And with the returning sun, too, sex. Tulips, first found as wild flowers in Central Asia--- named for the Persian word "tulipan," for turban--- thrust and bow in the warm soil of Versailles, their variegated "broken" petals licked with carmine flames. The early worm-catchers begin their chorus, skylarks and song thrushes courting at dawn. Catkins dangle like soft, tiny pairs of elven stockings. Fairy-sized wigs appear on the pussy willows. Hawthorn and sloe put on their powder and patches, to catch a bee's eye.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“So many fairy tales have the logic of a dream--- they seem to show action and consequence, but that's a trick. They reveal nothing but what the teller wishes to happen. Perrault wants Bluebeard dead, so he slaughtered him. Does Cornielle not tell us: 'An example is often a deceptive mirror'? In real life, I must assure you, the story does not end this way.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“I have a theory about the internet - that it's filled a void left by the decline in religion. Social media has filled the void. Our whole lives will be archived and remembered - it is always looking, watching, tracking. Saving us.”
― Clare Pollard, Delphi

“Here," Marie tells her, offering Henriette a little almond cake, with a bonnet of rose-petal cream. "You must try these--- our cook's secret recipe. Rumor has it that anyone who tastes one will realize they are loved." And she watches until she is satisfied that Henriette has taken a soft, fragrant bite, and that the magic is beginning to work.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“Finally, each night, the crowd gather at the king's antechamber to attend the dinner of the Royal Table. Another grand ritual: four soups--- his favorite being crayfish in a silver bowl--- sole in a small dish, fried eggs, a whole pheasant with redcurrant jelly, a whole partridge or duck (depending on the season) stuffed with truffles, salads, mutton, ham, pastry, fruit, compote, preserves, cakes. All stone-cold, for the kitchen is so far away that the king has never experienced a hot meal, and eaten largely with hands, for nor has he ever touched that new-fangled device the fork. For special occasions entire tiered gardens of desserts form pyramids on the table: precariously balanced exotic fruits, jellies, and sweet pastes; sorbets scented with amber and musk; the wonders of the ancient world recreated in spun-sugar and pâte morte; gingerbread palaces.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“In a globalized world, there are few purchases or gestures that do not - like the flicker of a butterfly's wings - negatively affect someone on earth. With almost every daily action I contribute to world misery. If to be good is not to harm others, then I live within a system that has made goodness impossible.”
― Clare Pollard, Delphi

“Charles has a genius for images, that's what it is--- symbols that glow in the mind, rich and radiant with meaning. And the whole thing rolls along so smoothly and pleasurably--- Marie finds herself closing her eyes for a few seconds, and lets his voice take her to a far-off kingdom, and feels, for just that moment, as if she doesn't have to be responsible for everything that happens. As if she can trust in his voice.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“To Merveilleuse's surprise she comes across a large ram in a clearing, with gilt horns and a garland of flowers round his neck, reposing on a couch of orange blossom beneath a pavilion of golden cloth. But still, a ram, with his nose like an ink blot, flies on his white lashes, wool the color of curds. Around him a hundred gaily decked sheep graze not on grass but coffee, sherbet, ices, and sweetmeats, whilst partaking in games of basset and lansquenet.
Soon he takes her into a cavern, which is a gate to his underworld kingdom. It has meadows of a thousand different flowers; a broad river of orange-flower water; fountains of Spanish wine and liqueurs. There are entire avenues of trees, stuffed with partridges better larded and dressed than you would get them at the finest Paris restaurants; quails, young rabbits, and ortolans. In certain parts, where the atmosphere appears a little hazy, it rains bisque d'écrevisses, foie gras, and ragout of sweetbreads. His palace is formed by tangled orange trees, jasmines, honeysuckle, and little musk-roses, whose interlaced branches form cabinets, halls, and chambers, all hung with golden gauze and furnished with large mirrors and fine paintings.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“Briou thinks of those words of Don Juan in Molière's play: "As for me, beauty embraces me wherever I find it, and I can easily yield to the sweet violence with which it sweeps me along." He imagined it as this: a sweet violence, and himself a new Don Juan.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“For the energy that lies behind all stories is a destructive energy...”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“This is the tale of 'Anguillette'," Henriette de Murat begins, rehearsed and fluent. "Now, to whatever greatness destiny may elevate those it favors, I think we will all agree there is no escape in this world from sorrow. Even fairies themselves have a burden to endure. Did you know that these creatures have the misfortune of being compelled to change their shape, a few days in every lunar month? It is true, they become their animal selves, whether that beast is celestial, terrestrial, or aquatic! So it was that at her time of the month, the fairy Anguillette found that she transformed into a thick, slick, muscular eel, whose skin glistened with a rainbow...”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“For a year or so the group stays intimate and exclusively feminine. But then, after Marie coins the term "contes de fées," or fairy tales, the fame of these "Modern Fairies" begins to spread too fast--- though it is flattering in a manner, of course.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“Autumn has come, bringing its blood-drop berries, its acorns and walnuts, its spiders' webs. The sap is falling, as the trees draw their nutrients back inside, readying themselves for their long, enchanted sleep, whilst their leaves--- which in their youth were simply green--- each seem to become unique, in their last hours: blotched, spotted, blush-tipped, pocked, crinkled; the colors of gingerbread, bearskin, pumpkin, ram's fur, porridge, a bloodstained key.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“If there's such a thing as a kiss of true love, then we must declare that this is one of them: this moment in which their whole life trembles, like the world reflected in a drop of dew.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“We are so bored of our unreal lives it is a change, at least; it is history happening.”
― Clare Pollard, Delphi

“Come, let's go to the maze with its sixteen-foot-high box hedges, designed by Perrault himself, who advised Louis XIV to include thirty-nine fountains each representing one of Aesop's fables. Water jets spurt from the animals' mouths to give the charming impression of speech between the creatures, powered by waterwheels on the Seine. Within here are the Owl and Birds, the Eagle and Fox, the Peacock and Jackdaw, the Wolf and Heron, the Tortoise and Hare, the Council of Mice.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“Her tale "Perfect Love" apparently involved an ingenious underwater riff on Versailles--- exquisite shell grottos mimicking the king's own Grotte de Thétys with its cunning hydraulics; a palace guarded by a hundred dolphins; ballets of naiades in gowns made of glittering fish-scale dresses...”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“Force our every interaction online so they can scrape it for data and sell predictions to shadowy forces of what we'll do before we know ourselves.”
― Clare Pollard, Delphi

“Perrault likes this bit of the tale--- the pattern of it. The rhythm. He likes the shapes things make. And he likes beautiful, refined things: frescos, hyacinths, clockmakers, marzipans, butterfly wings, golden tableware, fountains, good shoes, the nightingale's song. He is an aesthetic man.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies

“Tragedy is all about unity of place. This year every family gets its own tiny tragedy. A small cast of actors, and social media as the chorus.”
― Clare Pollard

“Children, and most especially girls---
pretty ones, sheltered from the world---
should never talk to unknown men,
who likely want to gobble them,
For there are wolves with pelts of hair,
whose huge teeth serve to say beware,
but also wolves who seem quite sweet,
when wooing women in the street
with flattery and playful charm.
It's very hard to see the harm
till they devour you, blood and bone.
Perhaps you keep one in your home?
My moral is a warning too:
that smooth-tongued wolf will ruin you.”
― Clare Pollard, The Modern Fairies