This was a well-researched, personal insight into labyrinths, mazes, and the way they reflect the constantly twisting human condition. Rife with trivia, anecdotes, personal characters, poetry, surreal purposeful turns in the prose, tense, and points of view. The photographs were all exceptional quality and well sourced. I also love the hardcover design in an era of lazy hardcover early releases.
Though, I should add I wanted more. As someone who has likewise dedicated a lot of their life on the subject, I wish I could have seen even more literary and artistic influences that weren't so Greco-Roman and European influenced, but understand. She wrote the book she wanted to write, one focusing heavily on Ariadne (hence the title) and, towards the end, the Minotaur Asterion himself. I wanted to see House of Leaves, Annihilation, more Kafkaesque, Japanese elements. There are a myriad of mazes around us. Again, I understand the scope - it's not myopic but centered.
What an achievement!
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Notes:
- Brilliant, sentimental beginning about the links between labyrinths and life. I really hope Charlotte has read House of Leaves, as I too experience similar dreams of mazes and shifting psychogeometry and felt distinctly recognised by aspects of that book.
- I've never EVER noticed the labyrinthian qualities to Oliver Twist. It's even in the name!
- Evans and his involvement with the restructuring of Crete, and the fabricating of the culture - and Minoan culture as a whole. Odysseus as a liar, spinner of yarn. Snake Goddess and the Ring of Nestor.
- Perfectly segued into a discussion on psychoanalysis as a form of archaeology, digging up latent concepts beneath stratified barriers. I loved the sentiment expressed to Stefan Zweig (a personal favourite): ‘read more archaeology than psychology’. This then proceeds onto an incredible recounting of Freud's interpretation of Michelangelo's Moses - ‘the riddle of that knot in the beard.'
- Drifting onto the parallels between narratives (particularly mystery or detective novels) and labyrinths, using Umberto Eco as the middleman for the conversation.
- She recognises the labyrinthine qualities of The Shining before proceeding onto a discussion of snakes. "The snakes are a kind of living labyrinth: a trapping, coiling, deadly device."
- Definitely a kindred spirit; her interpretations of snakes, particularly in Paradise Lost, reflect my own. "So is to wander (and to wonder)," reminded me exactly of my debut book, Deliriums, which titles the reader and protagonist as a 'W-nderer.'
- Also, Michelangelo was a fraud of ancient artefacts! I never knew.
- Cognitive maps, mice in mazes, and the hippo(horse/hippos)campus(monster/kampos).
- The Arms of Laocoöns is one of the best chapters yet.
- Incredible meditation on spirals, the cochlea of the ear, and a portrait of Joyce.
- Then Charlotte discusses Ariadne (particularly the Cleopatra mistaken statue) and Arachne. Her prose is wonderful, her points profound and connecting. I love her enthusiasm. Her connecting of Ariadne to the internet via French etymology of the word 'file' and 'queue' was astounding.
- Living in Manchester, her writings on Middlemarch and Bennett were brilliant, and funny, and sad. "'[...] Stoke ‘the town I mustn’t name’. It was ‘that place you stop at on the way to Manchester – the one where you look out of the train window when it’s slowing down, and think, “Well, at least I don’t live here.”’"
- The Borges segment concerning his grandmother, Stoke-on-Trent, and Bennett's works, was magnificent. Some of the best parts, yet. I've said that a few times. Her connection of Fenton from 'Forking Paths' with Bennett's Fenton-omission... Just brilliant research and deduction.
- Next time I go to the London Underground, I'll see it through a new lens.
- Really glad she's touching on Dante, as I've also felt the labyrinthine qualities enough to include it in my Invisible Cities twine adaptation via quotes and allusions.
- BEYOND happy that she mentioned The Magician's Nephew, as that was my introduction to 'the multiverse' conceptually as a child, and I feel it's a wonderful labyrinth.
- ‘I sometimes imagine that Daedalus, when he designed his labyrinth, must have re-created the ridges and convoluted folds of his own brain in the form of a building, as if it were a self-portrait. Do you not find that an image of the human brain resembles a labyrinth?' I studied neurocognitive science for 4 years precisely, among other reasons, because the gyri and sulci of the cerebral cortex thrills me, fills me with dread.
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Quotes:
> "And yet the labyrinth is never so terrifying. A maze or a labyrinth has always been designed by a person. This means that another person has always the possibility of breaking its code. To be inside a maze or a labyrinth is to be bewildered, confused or afraid. But it is, nonetheless, also to be inside a structure. It is to be lost, but only up to a point. It is also to be held within a design and a pattern.’"
> "To feel trapped within the labyrinth’s intestinal coils ushers in thoughts of entrails, of the strange unremembered red tunnels out of which we all, once, emerged. With thoughts of sex and birth come intimations of death: there is something crypt-like about its dark, catacombish twists. The labyrinth is, then, both a symbol of the body and its fragile mysteries, and a gesture of optimism that a corner of the universe can be mastered and given pattern and order by the human mind."
> "In a letter he sent in 1931 to his friend the writer Stefan Zweig, Sigmund Freud confessed that he had ‘read more archaeology than psychology’."
> "It is the subject of one of his most memorable descriptions of the nature of the mind: in Civilisation and Its Discontents (1930), he summoned up a vision of the city in which all of its multiple pasts – from the earliest settlements on the Palatine Hill onwards – are simultaneously present. According to this impossible vision, Nero’s lavish palace, the Domus Aurea, would coexist with the later Colosseum; the footprint of the church of Maria sopra Minerva would be occupied by both the church and the temple over which it was built; the renaissance Palazzo Caffarelli (which is now part of the Capitoline museums) would share its space with the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus, which would ‘be seen not only in its later form, which it assumed during the imperial age, but also in its earlier, when it still had Etruscan elements and was decorated with terracotta antefixes’. It would be an impossible collage of the ages. This city, this fantastical city containing all former versions of itself, would be like the mind, Freud suggested, in which ‘everything is somehow preserved and can be retrieved under the right circumstances’. If a city is a labyrinth in space, Freud invented a city that was a labyrinth in both time and space, truly an ‘eternal city’. This universal and impossible Rome reminds me of Borges’s story ‘Funes the Memorious’, in which the character remembers absolutely everything he has ever experienced, so that he can relive, for example, the complete and precise details of a long-ago day, in real time – his mind an infinite palimpsest."
> "The snakes are a kind of living labyrinth: a trapping, coiling, deadly device."
> "In The Hippocampus as a Cognitive Map, the book O’Keefe and his collaborator Lynn Nadel published in 1978, the pair posited that humans had developed Euclidean geometry precisely because the hippocampus itself provided them with ‘an a priori Euclidean spatial framework’."
> "I fear that my hippocampus is, in contrast to those of London cabbies, small and etiolated. I fear that my limited capacities to navigate will be in the process of withering yet more completely as I come to rely on the safe blue thread of my Google Map directions."
> "Visiting the ruins now – known as the Cretto di Burri, the ‘Crack of Burri’, or the Grande Cretto, the ‘Great Crack’ – is to enter an impossible world. Above a valley otherwise occupied by olive trees, vines and stubble, was a town that looked as if it had absconded from an Italo Calvino story: a city of silent, doorless walls and empty grey streets."
> "In ancient Greek, the word for such a shell is labyrinthos. Another is cochlis, which gives us the word cochlea, the beautiful spiralling cavern (which really does resemble a shell) within the bony labyrinth of the ear, certain disorders of which, affecting balance and causing nausea, are called labyrinthitis."
> "She wrote: ‘What is a drawing? It is a secretion, like a thread in a spider’s web.’59 The spider makes a web that is also her dwelling and her art. She sits at the centre, she traps and consumes. She is feared. She is Daedalus, she is the Minotaur."
> "Overheard snatches of conversation in French. The French word queue means tail. The Italian for queue, for standing in line in single file, is fila, from the Latin filum, a strand, a yarn, a thread. Italian filo means thread. There is also a verb, filare. Il tuo discorso fila means ‘your argument makes sense’, for another’s thought is a line to be grasped, or a thread to be lost. The English word ‘enfilade’, meaning rooms threaded together, leading one from another, also comes from the Latin filum. And the English word ‘file’ derives from the thread or wire on which papers were once strung to keep them in order. Ariadne becomes, then, the unlikely patron of digital orderliness, keeping the bestial depths of the internet at bay."
> "Later, when I learned of Borges’s admiration for Arnold Bennett, and of his Potteries grandmother, it occurred to me how pointed the choice of Fenton was: it was Bennett’s non-town, the one he expelled from his fiction when he chose to write about five rather than six Potteries towns. A suburb of Fenton, then, is a nowhere of a nowhere. Ashgrove does not exist on the real map of north Staffordshire. In his story ‘Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius’ Borges has a character called Herbert Ashe, an Englishman, supposedly an intimate of his father’s, who ‘suffered from unreality’."
> "In Flann O’Brien’s novel The Third Policeman, de Selby, the savant to whose learnings the narrator of the story devotes so many footnotes, is said to have formulated the notion that it would be possible, if one were possessed of sufficiently keen eyesight, to perceive our younger selves – as children, or babies even – when staring at our own reflections in parallel mirrors, since light takes a certain time to travel between the reflective surface and the eye. "
> "There is an odd play between intimacy and distance in the way travellers ride the Tube. We very often face each other, but we hardly ever acknowledge that we are not alone, and stare through our fellow passengers as if they were ghosts circling Hades."
> "Borges once said, of Henry James and Kafka, ‘I think that they both thought of the world as being at the same time complex and meaningless.’"