In the midst of this reworking of the Kay and Gerda story (“The Snow Queen” by Hans Christian Andersen), Daphne Marlatt introduces a strong childhood memory which I share (I distinctly recall the sugary liquid followed by chewing the wax shell to a pale whiteness — very like the colour of dead men’s bones).
She suggests I go to the cemetery with her, as a gesture, helping to dust rain-spatter off the artificial roses. & suddenly I taste grape soda fizz, from way back, from the black cat coffee shop. Remember those tiny wax urns with cordial inside? licour of dead men’s bones.
There is in the Vancouver archives a copy of a placement ( dated from 1960) featuring the image of a black cat in a top hat. Goes nicely with this segement from 1968 Frames by Marlatt. A cat in a top hat just as artificial as those roses touched by rain-splatter or as dead men’s bones — chewed.
And so for day 1108