How do Stevenson and Rice present the conflict of good vs. evil in ‘Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde’ and ‘Interview with the Vampire’?

Note: English essay

In Anne Rice’s ‘Interview with the Vampire’ and Louis Stevenson’s ‘Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde’, the protagonists – despite committing ‘evil’ acts – are not presented as complete monsters. Instead, both Stevenson and Rice use their protagonists to embody the concept of the conflict of good versus evil through their own inner battles. In doing so, they present evil not as the preserve of a monstrous few, but as an affliction from which we all suffer. 

Stevenson presents the conflict of good and evil as a duality within our very nature through his characterisation of Jekyll. The narrative’s originally told in the third person, mostly from Utterson’s view, so we initially see Jekyll simply as a supporting character. By delaying the truth of Jekyll until the very end, it not only maintains the mystery surrounding Jekyll’s condition, but also allows Stevenson to draw a stark contrast between Jekyll and his alter ego Hyde in everything, demeanour and appearance. Jekyll’s ‘a large, well-made, smooth-faced man of fifty… [with] every mark of capacity and kindness’, whilst Hyde’s ‘pale and dwarfish [and] he gave an impression of deformity without any nameable malformation.’ Stevenson describes Jekyll with sibilance, softening his description and giving the impression of all-round goodness and gentility, whilst Hyde’s description possesses more hard consonants, consequently hardening his description and subconsciously making him even more dislikeable to the reader. This mirrors the effect Hyde’s own appearance has on the other characters, a subconscious registering of his true malignance. By initially seeing Jekyll and Hyde as two separate entities, this further reinforces the disparity between them. In doing so, when Stevenson does reveal Jekyll’s secret, this further illustrates the original conflict that Jekyll battled with – of good versus evil – as well as the duality there can be in a person, ‘that man’s not truly one but two.’ Without disparity or duality, there is no conflict.

Whilst Stevenson uses Jekyll to present the duality of human nature and the successive inner conflicts involved, Rice splits this duality into two separate races in ‘Interview with the Vampire’, using mankind to represent the potential for goodness, innocence and redemption, and vampires to represent lost innocence, ruthlessness and evil. Rice uses her protagonist Louis as a construct to represent the age-old conflict of good versus evil by creating her own form of duality within Louis as he struggles to reconcile his human morality and his vampiric nature. Whilst the divide between the two natures is less tangible as it was with Jekyll, the division between Louis’s two conflicting natures is nevertheless clear, his birth as a vampire resulting in the vampiric ‘detachment that made [it] possible’ for him to kill mortals nightly, whilst still retaining that ‘passion, [that] humanity’ that causes him so much suffering.

Rice’s novel is initially narrated in third person, but this form soon switches to the first person narrative of Louis as he recounts his story to the young reporter. By choosing to have Louis narrate, Rice personalises the narrative, giving the readers a far more intimate portrait of Louis’s story than might’ve been possible if it had been narrated in third person; first person allows the reader to directly experience Louis’s struggles.

There are intermittent periods where the narrative switches briefly back to third person to remind the reader of the basis of Louis’s narrative, that he’s still talking to someone. Rice thereby reflects the duality of Louis’s conflict in the story itself by creating a dual narrative, Louis’s narration occurring alongside real-time events. Therefore, the reporter’s character is a narrative device used to draw forth Louis’s story, whilst also breaking up the plot periodically to comment and ask Louis the questions that the readers themselves are asking, from the mundane, ‘Rosaries have crosses on them, don’t they?’ to the more profound ‘He was just a killer. No regard for anything.’ The readers can also learn additional information through the reporter that Louis himself might not have conceded if Rice had structured the text to simply be one continuous first person narrative; this gives the text the tone of the confessional. By structuring her novel in this manner, Rice presents Louis’s inner conflict between good and evil as a journey of struggles and self-discovery that the reader can experience vicariously through his first person narrative.

Unlike Louis, though, the division between Jekyll’s two selves is more clearly defined. By splitting Jekyll’s evil so that it forms a separate, thinking entity, Stevenson further heightens the sense of conflict as good struggles against evil.

‘And this again, that that insurgent horror was knit closer to him than a wife, closer than an eye; lay caged in his flesh, where he heard it mutter and felt it struggle to be born; and at every hour of weakness, and in the confidence of slumber, prevailed against him…’

By personifying Jekyll’s evil, Stevenson gives Jekyll a literal enemy to pit himself against, allowing Stevenson to compare the nature of inner conflict with the nature of literal battles. At the end of Jekyll’s confession, even though Hyde really is simply another part to his personality, he refuses to acknowledge this fact, which is shown in how he refers to Hyde as ‘him’, ‘it’ or ‘Hyde’, rather than ‘me’ or ‘myself.’ He refers to Hyde as the ‘insurgent horror’, as if he is a parasite or invasion, and this can be seen as Jekyll’s attempt to disassociate himself from Hyde and a refusal to take responsibility for his own misdeeds. Jekyll even starts referring to himself in the third person, further emphasising Stevenson’s idea that inner conflict’s akin to a literal battle between two opposing sides.

At the time Stevenson was writing, the inner conflict of good versus evil was a popular concept in Victorian culture, a society that strictly followed the dichotomy of outward respectability and repression of all primal and emotional desires. The Victorians characterised pleasure and emotional exuberance as ‘faults’, and the absence of these characteristics are what Jekyll aspires to. However, as Jekyll himself observed:

‘It’s the curse of mankind that these incongruous fagots [good and evil] were thus bound together – that in the agonised womb of consciousness these polar twins should be continuously struggling.’

Stevenson thus presents Jekyll as a literal embodiment of the concept of good versus evil, Jekyll representing ‘good’ and Hyde ‘evil.’ By using the natural imagery of the ‘agonised womb’ to represent the human consciousness, Stevenson draws parallels between the mind and the uterus, for the mind is what gives birth to our thoughts and impulses, as well as the pain of conflicting thoughts and desires, as agonising indeed, as childbirth. By making these comparisons, Stevenson emphasises the natural aspect of such thoughts and desires, as well as how ‘sinfulness’ or ‘evil’ is a natural ‘curse’ ingrained in all of man.

From a Marxist perspective, Stevenson’s text can also be seen as a critique of Victorian society’s repressive nature, with the conflict of ‘good and evil’ serving as a parallel for the conflict between ‘pleasure/sinfulness and severity.’ Jekyll’s downfall serves as a cautionary tale that not even the upper-class are immune to such  ‘irregularities’, and that to repress what is natural is itself unnatural, resulting in your eventual consumption by your own hungers.

This is also a lesson Louis comes to learn throughout the course of Anne Rice’s text. At the time she was writing, Rice was suffering from a severe disillusionment with the world and religion, having recently lost her daughter to leukaemia. In her own words:

‘I felt that the vampire was the perfect metaphor for the outcast in all of us, the alienated one in all of us, the one who feels lost in a world seemingly without God.’¹

Her own experiences resulted in the creation of Louis, who also loses a beloved family member. Driven to despair and guilt, Louis is already on his way to becoming the ‘alienated one’ who ‘lived like a man who wanted to die but had no courage to do it himself,’ and it’s enough that when Lestat offers him human death, he plunges headlong into the abyss of evil. Consequently, Rice is able to push forward the conflict of good versus evil that Louis faces by combining it with the theme of innocence.

Although he felt such despair and guilt, Louis never had the courage to take his own life, an inclination he continues to show even as a vampire. Some people could interpret the way Louis clings to life and then human morality as Louis’s attempt to retain his own innocence, and as a refusal to accept that he’s irredeemably evil.

From a Marxist perspective, Rice’s presentation of evil can also be interpreted as a metaphor for wealth and status, with the vampires representing a whole new kind of ‘elite.’ Louis initially views Lestat with a sense of amazement, describing how he possessed an ‘extraordinary aura’ and as Lestat spoke to him, he ‘experienced only increasing wonder.’ Louis’s use of sensory, wondrous descriptions shows just how Lestat dazzled him, but once Louis becomes a member of this ‘elite’ himself, his status loses all its glamour and wonderment as he realises the true emptiness of his existence and that what he truly valued were the simple pleasures of his humanity. Therefore, from a Marxist perspective, the conflict of good and evil can be seen as a critique on the wealthy – the vampiric existence or the high life is ultimately empty because for all their powers and wealth, none of them are able to achieve true happiness. Indeed, it’s not powers or money that have true value, but humanity’s simple pleasures. As Louis tells Armand:

‘Dear God, even if there is no meaning in this world, surely there can still be goodness! It's good to eat, to drink, to laugh, to be together!’

Louis’s speech is continuously peppered with exclamations and question marks, which serves to illustrate the ‘mortal passion’ that drives him on in his quest to find goodness within his vampiric existence. His brief listing of what is good ‘to eat, to drink, to laugh, to be together’, are notably all mortal pasttimes that the vampires can’t have, and highlight how he is still desperately trying to hold on to his humanity. Vampires cannot eat, and what they drink – blood – is depicted as both a solitary necessity and – almost like sex – a sinful pleasure. Some would argue that his birth as a vampire can be interpreted as a rite of passage, with Louis’s transition from human to vampire actually being a metaphor for growing up, and his inner conflict of whether to do good or evil as a parallel for the loss of innocence as one matures and becomes an adult. When Louis ceases to believe in goodness and finally ‘accepted [his condition]’, this can be viewed as him finally letting go of his youthful innocence and accepting the ‘degree of coldness [he] would have to attain to end [his] pain’ – that is, the maturity to deal with the world’s harsh realities.

The struggle of good versus evil is the oldest one of all human history and serves to illustrate the imperfection of humanity as well as life’s harsh realities. Although the protagonists continue to struggle with this inner conflict throughout the texts, the conflict ends when they accept the evil that they’ve become. Both protagonists fall prey to evil, and from the moment they commit their first sin, they damn themselves; all attempts at redemption are merely ‘the chasing of phantom goodness.’ Through their texts, Rice and Stevenson convey the idea that once you commit evil, that evil’s an eternal stain on your soul. Evil cannot be redeemed and there’s no salvation. In the end, you simply must take responsibility for your wrongs and pay the price for what you are. As put so eloquently by Louis, ‘… You cannot know love and goodness when you do what you know to be evil…’

Bibliography:

Interview with the Vampire, by Anne Rice

Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Louis Stevenson

Bertens, H. (2001) Literary Theory: The Basics, (The Politics of Class: Marxism), (pp81-83), Abingdon: Routledge

¹ http://www.annerice.com/Bookshelf-EarlierWorks.html

How does Carter use religion in The Bloody Chamber to infuse her story with gothic elements?

Note: English essay on Angela Carter's short story anthology, The Bloody Chamber.

Carter uses religion to infuse The Bloody Chamber (story) with gothic elements. What religious references she does incorporate are not usually overt, but much more subtle, adding to the story’s air of mystery, but because we know the stories well, we can pick up on the comparisons and identify with them more easily. By using religion, Carter further adds to the gothic elements of her story due to the fact that religion is something that defies cold, hard clinical sight; it defies the way of the world and its natural laws and logic, giving it an almost magical power. Religion propagates belief in a higher power. 

Historically, religion is very important in Gothicism. At the time of the Industrial Revolution – where science was making enormous developments (and pushing religion out), where advances in steam power and machinery were celebrated – gothic works such as Dracula focused on the importance of religion e.g. Dracula being warded off with crosses, holy water, etc. They largely focused on the positives of religion, celebrating its power by giving readers such monsters as Dracula that are so foul that they defy its laws. However, not only does Carter use religion to infuse her story with gothic elements, she subverts the way she uses it, for ‘God’, the Marquis, is not good. 

By incorporating religion into The Bloody Chamber, Carter creates an almost supernatural atmosphere that increases the tension of the story, making it something more than just a tale of a sexually depraved, egomaniacal murderer, because religion instils a believer with the sense that there’s something greater than us, far beyond our mere physical human limitations out there in the universe. 

Such is the way that the female protagonist feels towards her murderous Marquis. In the text, sex is the ‘religion’ as such, of the Marquis; it is what he worships, what he believes in. For the girl, though – naïve and initially innocent, ignorant to the nature of sexuality – the Marquis is the god of this religion, likened to such a position. When she discovered his chamber, ‘The light caught the fire opal on [her] hand so that it flashed… as if to tell me the eye of God – his eye – was upon me.’ Before, the Marquis had been likened to little more than a priest or a mere worshipper of his ‘religion’, his pornography described as ‘holy books’, and the Marquis himself even teasingly calling the girl his ‘nun’, his initiate into the dark arts of his religion. He was nothing greater than that, though. However, once the girl makes her discovery of the horrors he’s perpetrated, her fear of him and the knowledge of what he’s capable of elevates him to godliness, something beyond what any normal human would or could do to another person, especially since she’s within the chamber itself, his ‘heart’, where his presence is everywhere. The fire opal on her finger is his, the chain and collar he keeps on her, much more than simply a reminder of him; it’s the collar of all the previous wives and victims before her, a burden she now possesses. 

What’s more, due to his wealth, she’s surrounded on all sides by his influence and the sheer power that derives from his status, to which – as a ‘poor widow’s child’ – she’s completely unaccustomed to. To a commoner, his power is extreme, and the extent of this power, the true nature she’s learnt of him and this wide-eyed naiveté of hers all combine to create the impression of the Marquis being almost omniscient, omnipotent; it’s beyond anything she could ever imagine. 

By forbidding her entry explicitly to this room, he’s not only become teacher and preacher in the arts of seduction, but her tempter as well, just like God tempted Adam and Eve by placing the apple tree in plain sight within the garden of Eden whilst forbidding them to eat the deadly fruit. Eve and the girl might seem to be completely at fault for being tempted, but it was God and the Marquis who put the temptation right before their eyes.

Othello is something of a tragic hero, because at times, he seems a victim of predetermined fate

Note: An English essay I wrote on Othello being a tragic hero and how the play follows the tropes of Greek tragedy.

In terms of the tragic genre (according to Aristotle’s definition), Othello could be considered to be something of a tragic hero, as ‘Othello’ the play does follow the conventions of this genre. Firstly, Othello is the protagonist and a general of the army, respected by his fellow men and held in a high position; he is happy and in love with his new wife, Desdemona, and it seems the future is bright and rosy. However, in accordance to Aristotle’s tragic genre, that apparent happiness is not meant to be. This is not only due just to the play’s villain and malcontent, Iago’s, machinations, although they do play a significant part, but also due to Othello’s own character flaw, his hamartia, which is his blind trust in Iago and his deep-seated, passionate jealousy. And thanks to that hamartia, that previously good fortune was reversed in a show of peripeteia, another example of the tragic genre. 

As a protagonist of a play that follows the tragic and dramatic genres’ conventions, Othello can be seen as a tragic hero, as this hamartia is something that’s part and parcel of the role of the tragic hero. Therefore, Othello can be seen as a victim of predetermined fate, for as a traditional tragic hero, he is destined to possess hamartia; if it were entirely due to Iago’s manipulations, this would go against the principles of the tragic genre, as Aristotle decreed that, ‘The change to bad fortune which he undergoes isn’t due to any moral defect or flaw, but a mistake of some kind.’ An example of Othello’s hamartia is his decision, his mistake in blindly trusting Iago’s every word rather than his wife, Desdemona. 

In Act 3 Scene 2, Iago has set his plan in motion and initially, it seems his insinuations of Desdemona’s infidelity with Cassio haven’t had their desired effect, with Othello declaring, ‘No, Iago, I’ll see before I doubt,’ therefore meaning that he will not consider the implications Iago’s making against his wife without proof. However, after meeting with Desdemona, where his manner is shown to be terse and curt with her, telling her to ‘let it (his head, which he claims to be hurting) alone.’ This implies that Iago’s words did have an affect on him, the ‘pain upon his forehead’ really indicating his mental turmoil as doubts begin to accumulate and whirl about his mind. 

What’s more, when he meets with Iago afterwards once more, even without having been presented with any sign of proof of Desdemona’s unfaithfulness, as it turns out, Iago’s words have proved to have had a far more profound affect on him than he initially let on. He declares, ‘What sense had I of her stolen hours of lust?’ He has not been provided with a shred of evidence of Desdemona’s guilt, only Iago’s implications of it, and yet those little words were enough to drive Othello out of his mind within such a short amount of time that it affected his behaviour. Despite his earlier proclamations of not believing in Desdemona’s guilt until he possessed verification of her adultery, he has already been driven to make up his mind on the matter, and in his own mind, he has already declared her guilty. This is an indication of his hamartia, his character flaw of being inflamed with jealousy so easily and readily.   
 

Tragic plays are different to novels and stories, for the characters, the roles, aren’t merely characters, but dramatic constructs and devices. Their purpose is to drive the play forward, for it is their actions – not outer forces or higher powers that class the characters as victims of circumstance rather than victims of their own flaws – that create the tragedy. And as the hero of a tragic play, therefore, it is Othello’s fate to be a flawed protagonist. 

Another part of Othello’s hamartia is trusting in Iago so blindly and unquestioningly rather than his partner, Desdemona, repeatedly calling him ‘honest’, despite Iago’s character being quite to the contrary. Repeatedly, he depicts Iago as a person of ultimate integrity and trustworthiness, such as in Act 3 Scene 2, when he tells Iago, ‘I think thou dost (loves Othello). And for I know thou’rt full of love and honesty…’ Not once does he truly consider the possibility that Iago is lying or has made a mistake; Othello’s trust in him is unwavering and unshakeable, unlike with Desdemona. 

However, Othello is as much a victim of Iago as he is a victim of the rules of the Aristotelian tragic genre. For Iago is extremely clever and cunning on a Machiavellian level that Othello, with his good, but easily passionate character, could not hope to match. Throughout the entirety of the play, Iago successfully manipulates and fools nearly everyone around him into believing him to be an ‘honest’ fellow. Even with his misogynistic attitude towards his own wife, Emilia, and with Roderigo as an accomplice and pawn to help facilitate his malicious scheming, he never entirely reveals everything he is thinking or planning and still manages to manipulate them into cooperating with him, although both are aware of his less than savoury character. Iago himself asserts at one stage, ‘I am not what I am’; it is one of his most famous lines and is further suggestion of his deceptive nature and that he is not ‘honest’ or ‘good’ in the least. And it’s because that he is highly skilled at the art of deception and appearing to be something he is not that he is able to fool Iago and almost everyone else so perfectly. 

Othello’s trust in Iago until the truth is revealed at the very end of the play is absolute, partly due to his hamartia of unconditional trust in his ancient rather than his partner, as if it was Iago who was the loved one, his partner, rather than Desdemona, but it is also due to Iago’s role as the Machiavellian, villainous manipulator that Othello falls victim to. It could be argued that because of Iago’s manipulation, Othello is not so much a tragic hero of determined fate as an unfortunate victim of circumstance. However, as Iago is also a character of the play and his role is that of the villain, as well as being one of the main driving forces behind the tragedy – in Jacobean terms, he is the ‘malcontent’, a troubled individual who comments acerbically and critically on society and on the other characters, as well as the villain. And as the villain and a dramatic construct, it is his role within the tragic genre to be one of the main driving forces behind the play and its tragic aspect through his actions and decisions. And as he is also a dramatic construct, it is Othello’s fate to be completely taken in by Iago’s trickery and to be driven to the brink as he is.

The critic, Alexander W. Crawford, states that, ‘To make Iago the sole cause of the tragedy that befell Othello is to seek outside the human heart for the causes of human failure.’ Iago is not the only cause of Othello’s downfall, although he certainly plays an enormously important part in it. Othello, too, contributed to his own downfall. As a husband, he failed. As a human being, he failed. However, as a dramatic construct of the tragic genre, Othello cannot and would never be a perfect tragic hero, otherwise there would be no tragedy. Iago, however skilled or duplicitous, would never have succeeded in driving Othello into a murderous, jealous rage, and there would’ve been no tragedy. For the necessities of a tragic play, once Shakespeare began to create Othello, it was already determined that he would be the way he is and the fate that would eventually befall him in the end.

One for Sorrow, Two for Joy

Note: First 5 pages of the script for my short comic, One for Sorrow, Two for Joy, which is based on the Chinese myth of The Cowherd and the Weaver Girl. Two star-crossed lovers forever separated by a vast river, and fated only to meet once every year, this is the story of one of those meetings.

Page 1

Inside a little cottage, a young Chinese man (Niulang) is getting ready to go out. His home is simple and plainly furnished, a commoner’s home.

He stands before his bed, where he’s laid out three outfits: one blue, one green and one cream. He stares down hard at them, paralysed by indecision. Eventually, he snatches up the green outfit and puts it on, initially pleased with the result. However, when he catches sight of himself in the mirror, his confidence dissolves, and he throws his head and claps his hands over his face in frustration.

Page 2

Inside another cottage, a young Chinese woman (Zhinu) sits at a dresser before a mirror, also getting ready to go out. The dresser is a bit of mess, with makeup pots, brushes, flower vases and jewellery scattered on the surface. The rest of the room is elegantly if haphazardly furnished, with a beautifully carved wardrobe in left corner, and a divider on the right, clothes hanging off it.

Zhinu brushes her hair and ties it up in a half-bun, before applying red paint to her lips.

Page 3

Outside, it’s night. Niulang stands outside his cottage at the bank of a river, a cloth-wrapped gift clenched tightly in his hand. He’s fidgeting a lot, clearly nervous, but also excited.

Suddenly, he spies Zhinu emerging from her cottage on the opposite side of the river; she also has a gift for him, wrapped in embroidered cloth. Even after all this time, even across the distance of the river, Niulang’s breath still catches whenever he sees her. He can’t look away.

Page 4

Niulang stares, and he is lost.

As Zhinu emerges, she catches sight of Niulang, and stops in her tracks.

Even across the vast breadth of the river, their eyes lock, and for a moment, time hangs still.

Page 5

A full page illustration. Zhinu’s back is to the reader, and the camera is panned out to show the full width of the river, how great the distance separating Zhinu and Niulang.

Etsy Product Descriptions Copywriting

Note: Product descriptions I’ve written for my Etsy.

The Black Cloud Zine

A collection of conceptual black and white illustrations inspired by my recent struggles with mental health (particularly anxiety). After losing my job in 2017 and trying to restart as a freelance illustrator, there were times I struggled quite a bit with isolation and cabin fever, as well as physical health issues at the time. When I needed to vent, I'd doodle little sketches to try and visually vomit out the thoughts and feelings I was dealing with, before developing them into full-on drawings and paintings.

This zine is a collection of those illustrations (with a little introduction from me): for those who are also struggling, who have struggled or know someone who is.

Alice in Wonderland – Digital Art Print

High quality digital art print of my Alice in Wonderland book cover illustration, showing Alice tumbling through the rabbit's hole. Originally painted in watercolours and acrylic ink.

Christmas Dinner Card

Still looking for that special card for your loved one? This Christmas, order them this tasty Christmas feast of a card!

Robin Christmas Card

Still looking for that special card for your loved one? This Christmas, order this beautiful watercolour robin to come winging its way to them!

Christmas Bunny Card

Still looking for that special card to send to your loved one this Christmas? Looking for something unique, colourful and beautifully drawn? Send them this adorable Christmas bunny card! 

Framed Fantasy Demon Illustration Print

A unique gift to decorate your home. Perfect for fans of illustration, demons, fantasy or all things floral.

A hand-drawn pen illustration of my demon prince character, Thorne. Although a demon, he's sweet and gentle, with a passion for books and nature.

An A4 digital art print of my Thorns & Roses illustration, printed on 167 g/m2 high quality matte paper.

Framed Steampunk Illustration Print

A unique gift to decorate your home. Perfect for fans of illustration, steampunk, fantasy or Art Nouveau.

She's the sinister steampunk circus ringmaster, beautiful and powerful, and ready to take the world by storm.

An A4 digital art print of my The Ringmaster illustration, printed on 167 g/m2 high quality matte paper.

Illustrated Postcard Pack

10 x beautifully illustrated A6 postcards. A mixture of coloured and black and white fantasy-inspired illustrations, this is the perfect to gift to your art-loving friend - or to yourself!

Vittori

Note: An excerpt from my short story, ‘Vittori.’

On the outside, it looked like any of the other clubs that lined the dark night street, the name 'tRiNity’ flashing garish pink in bright, searing neon above the door. The inside was no different, steeped half in darkness, half in flashing, oscillating lights of every colour under the rainbow. Dozens upon dozens of young, gyrating human bodies were crammed up to the walls, filling the place with an almost claustraphobic cloak of warmth, and everywhere, the sound of techno music blared and thumped through the speakers until the whole place became a vibrating, buzzing hive of activity and sound.

Alcohol, sweat... and the sweet, salty perfume of warm human blood pumping beneath the skin. It was a veritable feast of the flesh. However tempting it might be, though, Stacey knew she had one small part to play in her role as messenger before she could go off and have some fun (and food) of her own. Earlier, she had carried out her instructions dutifully, and delivered the message to Sydney, a request from her esteemed superiors for a meeting ‘that would be of much benefit to him.’

Now she dutifully led Sydney along, skilfully slipping through the heaving clusters of humanity before them until she'd reached the back of the room, unlocked the door there and passed through. Down corridors they went, and further corridors, until finally, they reached their destination.

A bright red door stood before them, manned by two guards, dressed in the traditional penguin-black and white. Flicking her short red hair and batting her eyelashes, she snickered at the younger of the two. "Stuck on guard duty again, eh, Felix? What'd you screw up this time?"

He glared at her, scowling, "Aw, shut ya face. None of your damn business."

"Well now, that's no way to talk to your superior," she said, her voice falsely sweet as she smirked at him. "In every way, might I add. Now, are you and Silent Bob over here going to let us in or do I have to make you? We've got a very important guest in to see the boss, and trust me, neither of them will be happy if you just stand there like some gormless muppet. Move it!"

Still glaring at her, Felix nonetheless obeyed, and with his partner, they dutifully opened the door and let them past. Stacey strode past them with a smug wink and the sharp click of her heels, smiling at the sight that greeted her. "Good evening, sirs. Here he is."

Creative Exchange: The Designer Craft and Art Fair

Note: An article I wrote for Palmers Green Life Magazine about Creative Exchange’s Christmas art fair.

This November, Creative Exchange had its first ever Designer Craft & Art Fair! On Sunday 17^th November, St. Monica’s Parish Centre was a hive of activity, packed with a near-constant stream of visitors from 10 until 6.

Fine art, jewellery, leatherwork, ceramics, glassware, graphic prints, fashion accessories… There was something for everyone! From Cheryl Powling’s stained glass pieces to Katherine Bree’s exotic, colourful semi-precious jewellery, the fair was brimming with a multitude of crafts and disciplines, alive with colour and artistry.

Around thirty artists and designers were featured that day, all of them specially selected for their first-class handmade crafts. Most were local creatives, but Creative Exchange events are also open to those outside of London. One such exhibitor, Lindsay Duff, came all the way from Cambridge with her exquisitely handcrafted silver jewellery!

As well as the various art and crafts, Creative Exchange application forms were also on offer, with a special discount on the membership fee for the day, reducing it from its usual £35 to £30.

However, this fair couldn’t have been realised without the hard work of Creative Exchange’s founders, Dan Maier, Christina Stavrinides, Denise Ryan, Rachel Lee and Ruth Berenbaum, as well as our team of volunteers. They worked tirelessly to bring this fair to life, from setting up on the day and welcoming visitors to providing exhibitors with refreshments.

We really hoped everyone enjoyed the day. Many thanks to everyone who donated £2 at the door, as well as to all of our sponsors. All of your donations go towards funding further events like the Designer Craft and Art Fair, our first ever event to have all exhibitors under one roof.