Angela Carter – The Passion of New Eve (1977)
Novel – 190 pages – my copy (paperback; 2002) bought from Amazon for a trifling sum - 2008
- 4 nods
The Passion of New Eve charts the adventures of Evelyn, starting in London and ending upon the deep blue of the Pacific coast. In-between, Evelyn is down and out in civil war torn New York; is kidnapped and subjected to a sex change; programmed into womanhood and arranged to give birth to a child of the new world; escapes and is – again – kidnapped by the vicious Zero and continually raped amongst an awful harem of girls; finally escaping again with a Hollywood female icon, who, in fact, turns out to be male; and on it continues, until Evelyn – now Eve – is left alone upon the ‘ocean, mother of mysteries, bear me to the place of birth’ (p.191).
Sounds like a handful. And indeed, Angela Carter’s twisted picaresque novel is just that. It is adventure and thriller, fitting neatly into the Science Fiction dystopia mould (though Carter herself would call it Speculative Fiction). Yet, it is much more than that. A critique of the modern world, of our possible diverging futures: of feminism, of racism, of ourselves.
Throughout Evelyn’s journey, the myth that surrounds him breaks down: from the matriarchy of Mother to the patriarchy of Zero. Both are evil, bloated figures; Mother is a God-like figure giving “life”, telling Evelyn: ‘I am the Great Parricide, I am the Castratrix of the Phallocentric Universe, I am Mama, Mama, Mama!’ (p.67). Her followers are fanatical, shearing their left breast to follow her. While Zero oppresses the women in his harem, forcing them to follow his scripture and law, what is in effect the ‘Church of Zero’ (p.99). All are destroyed, resulting in Eve sailing upon the innocent, fresh waves of the ocean – ready for the future, a new synthesis.
Yet it is the breaking down of gender identity that makes this novel such a compelling read, which reaches it’s peak of confusion in Eve’s marriage to Tristessa (a man who has hidden his “secret” for an entire life): ‘both were bride, both were groom’ (p.135). As Eve states: ‘I was a boy disguised as a girl and now disguised as a boy again’ (p.132). The witnesses to the wedding, a blurred menagerie of mannequins symbolise this union: ‘Ramon Navarro’s head was perched on Jean Harlow’s torso and had one arm from John Barrymore Junior, the other from Marilyn Monroe and legs from yet other donors – all assembled in haste, so they looked like picture-puzzles’ (p.134).
As expected, Carter’s writing style is dense in symbolic imagery and references to figures of the past (particularly Greek goddesses). As such, The Passion of New Eve is a heavy read, and not a particularly heart warming one. There is much distress within these two hundred pages; rape and murder among them. But it is a read better understood and enjoyed second time round. Carter’s insight and questions to us, the reader, surely ensures there will be a second sitting with this book.
Novel – 190 pages – my copy (paperback; 2002) bought from Amazon for a trifling sum - 2008
- 4 nods
The Passion of New Eve charts the adventures of Evelyn, starting in London and ending upon the deep blue of the Pacific coast. In-between, Evelyn is down and out in civil war torn New York; is kidnapped and subjected to a sex change; programmed into womanhood and arranged to give birth to a child of the new world; escapes and is – again – kidnapped by the vicious Zero and continually raped amongst an awful harem of girls; finally escaping again with a Hollywood female icon, who, in fact, turns out to be male; and on it continues, until Evelyn – now Eve – is left alone upon the ‘ocean, mother of mysteries, bear me to the place of birth’ (p.191).
Sounds like a handful. And indeed, Angela Carter’s twisted picaresque novel is just that. It is adventure and thriller, fitting neatly into the Science Fiction dystopia mould (though Carter herself would call it Speculative Fiction). Yet, it is much more than that. A critique of the modern world, of our possible diverging futures: of feminism, of racism, of ourselves.
Throughout Evelyn’s journey, the myth that surrounds him breaks down: from the matriarchy of Mother to the patriarchy of Zero. Both are evil, bloated figures; Mother is a God-like figure giving “life”, telling Evelyn: ‘I am the Great Parricide, I am the Castratrix of the Phallocentric Universe, I am Mama, Mama, Mama!’ (p.67). Her followers are fanatical, shearing their left breast to follow her. While Zero oppresses the women in his harem, forcing them to follow his scripture and law, what is in effect the ‘Church of Zero’ (p.99). All are destroyed, resulting in Eve sailing upon the innocent, fresh waves of the ocean – ready for the future, a new synthesis.
Yet it is the breaking down of gender identity that makes this novel such a compelling read, which reaches it’s peak of confusion in Eve’s marriage to Tristessa (a man who has hidden his “secret” for an entire life): ‘both were bride, both were groom’ (p.135). As Eve states: ‘I was a boy disguised as a girl and now disguised as a boy again’ (p.132). The witnesses to the wedding, a blurred menagerie of mannequins symbolise this union: ‘Ramon Navarro’s head was perched on Jean Harlow’s torso and had one arm from John Barrymore Junior, the other from Marilyn Monroe and legs from yet other donors – all assembled in haste, so they looked like picture-puzzles’ (p.134).
As expected, Carter’s writing style is dense in symbolic imagery and references to figures of the past (particularly Greek goddesses). As such, The Passion of New Eve is a heavy read, and not a particularly heart warming one. There is much distress within these two hundred pages; rape and murder among them. But it is a read better understood and enjoyed second time round. Carter’s insight and questions to us, the reader, surely ensures there will be a second sitting with this book.
