#corrag

[the-hearth-and-the-wild]

It is evening. The moon is small and new. There are stars, and a stream's sound, and I can hear the wings of insects in the dark. I think what gifts we are given, such gifts - every day.

Susan Fletcher, Corrag

[auntieblues]

“So I say this. Speak of them. Speak of those that died. Speak of all those who ever died--in all the world's history, in its wars, and long-lost days. Speak of those who met their deaths in Glencoe, in snow--not of their deaths, but of their lives before them. Not of how they died, but of how they bent to pat a dog's head, or what ballads they could sing, or what their skin was like by their eyes when they smiled, or which weather was their weather--for it keeps them living. It stops them being dead.

To do this--to speak or write of them--puts breath back in their mouths. It lifts them up from their earthy beds... brings them forth, and they stand by the side of the one who speaks of them; they walk out of the pages of those who write them down. From the realm, they smile upon us. All the dead people--only, they are not dead.” ― Susan Fletcher, Corrag

original auntieblues

[sgribhisg]

Corrag

Boireannta IPA: Laːv

Fuaim leis an Fhaclair Beag: http://bit.ly/2vEdsQN Fuaim le Learn Gaelic: http://bit.ly/2KMeHSS

[perspektivno]

Od svih stvari koje je moje srce znalo, poznavalo je njega najviše.

Susan Fletcher, Corrag

[malglories]

my review for corrag by susan fletcher: 

"Who will you burn? Hag. Witch. It has always tried to kill me - this word, this life of mine."

Corrag is the story of a witch about to be burned in 17th century Scotland; she herself tells her story to a man named Charles Leslie, who interviews her in her cell to see whether she knows anything noteworthy about the recent massacre of an entire clan, the MacDonalds. Charles, a Jacobite, suspects it was the work of the Orange king. Though the inner life of Corrag is created, the massacre at Glencoe, and Corrag herself as well as Charles Leslie, were real. This book was not quite what I expected. It intertwines Corrag's story--written as if she is speaking, with no quotation marks, no inner thoughts but those she voices--with Charles' letters home to his wife. Corrag's voice is difficult to get used to; it is as wild and dreamy as she is. At first, I wasn't sure I could get past it, but the poetry of it really entranced me. Additionally, the story of a witch burning carries certain expectations--that Corrag is something. Charles Leslie's being a religious man carries certain expectations. But those are subverted, and this story turned out to be much gentler and much more emotional than I thought it would be.

In fact, it is emotion that drives this story. Deep, true, heart-wrenching emotion--not so much plot. While I do think the story could have been better served with more characterization of key characters, that would have been hard to convey with more depth because of the structure of the story. Therefore I wonder if the structure is entirely effective. On that note, Corrag is not an action story. It is character-driven. My favorite kind. Corrag speaks so hypnotically, I never cared that nothing was happening, that she was just describing the woods. However, some people won't like that. Ultimately, though, Corrag touched my heart in ways I never expected. It's a love letter to nature: to seasons, especially winter; to wildlife; to water and grass; to sun and sky and stars; to anything and everything wild and free. It's a love letter to humanity--Corrag, despite all she suffers and loses, never loses her faith in humanity or her hope. It is, most of all, a love letter to love. "Of all the things my heart has known, it has known him most of all. It made me so grateful. It made me realize all the gifts not only I have, but all of us have; all the gifts we take for granted, all the gifts we never even acknowledge, every single day. And it made me realize, most of all, what a gift it is to be seen, to be understood, and to be loved. And although sometimes Corrag is a little too perfect--especially evident when Leslie gushes over her to his wife in his letters--she absolutely bewitched me, and I am so grateful to have loved and lost with her, because she had so many things to teach me. "And what a life she has lived. I wonder if I envy it, in part. She has fed a stag from her bare hand, Jane--a rotted apple, but the stag bit down, and took it, and when she spoke of this my heart said yes! And envied it. I have never stood in marshes, or heard an owl call out. All this from her. All these dreams and longings, and fears, and thoughts, and hopes--from her. Maybe witch was always the right word."

[malglories]

And what a life she has lived. I wonder if I envy it, in part. She has fed a stag from her bare hand, Jane--a rotted apple, but the stag bit down, and took it, and when she spoke of this my heart said yes! And envied it. I have never stood in marshes, or heard an owl call out. All this from her. All these dreams and longings, and fears, and thoughts, and hopes--from her. Maybe witch was always the right word.

Susan Fletcher, Corrag

[malglories]

Of all the things my heart has known, it has known him most of all.

Susan Fletcher, Corrag

[malglories]

Who will you burn? Hag. Witch. It has always tried to kill me--this word, this life of mine."

Susan Fletcher, Corrag