Christian Smith (s2018): Tate McRae, NBC's Saved by the Bell
Keanu Uchida (s2014): Dancer the Musical; also a big advocate for protecting dancers and calling out inappropriate behaviour
Eric Schloesser (s2014): Lady Gaga, Katy Perry, Dua Lipa, Billie Eilish, J Balvin; choreographer, creative director, designer; Dana Foglia Dance Company
Other/a combo of things:
Bianca Melchior (s2011): actor, dancer, singer; Nick Jonas, Alessia Cara, own music; faculty at On The Floor dance competition
ARCANE PRACTICES IN ALEXANDRIAN WITCHCRAFT -- UTMOST DEVOTION IS KEY.
PIC INFO: Spotlight on witching couple Alex and Maxine Sanders during a ritual displaying the Adoration of the Goddess, 15 Clanricarde Gardens, London, England, c. 1970. 📸: Stewart Farrar.
Michaelides' latest is a murder mystery that builds its story with ever-increasing suspense and a growing whipping of the wind. Everything is wound tight. Pulled taut. Orchestrated within the confined structure of a five act play. It all starts off with a soft gale, where the narrator slowly introduces and details the lives of Lana Farrar and her group of friends as they gather to spend the weekend on a private Greek island. However, it isn't long before things devolve into a blustering storm of fury as sordid events unfold and murder is plotted, planned, and carried out--with secret motivations and manipulations being administered behind the scenes.
The narrative voice is unique in that Elliot Chase, one of Lana's friends, is recounting the tale. He often breaks the fourth wall, bouncing back and forth between directly addressing the audience like an old friend and offering a more detached, almost omniscient, perspective in an attempt to preserve his own credibility. It makes for an interesting unfolding of events because it encourages readers to parse through all the subtext he lays out and dissect all that he is (or is not) saying.
All in all, I thought this was a well-paced, character-driven thriller. I couldn't help but note the Knives Out: Glass Onion feel of it, with all the murder suspects not only knowing each other but being trapped together on a small island. I also couldn't help but draw parallels between Elliot Chase and Nick Carraway from The Great Gatsby because of how they both idealized Lana and Jay Gatsby in their own ways, and, as a result of that, put them up on a pedestal. They felt eerily reminiscent of one another in that respect. At the same time, I thought the unreliability their narratives struck entirely different tones in the end, leaving readers with wildly contradictory feelings about them, and I rather enjoyed that.
I imagine some readers may not enjoy the narration style in this, but if you're a fan of forced proximity in murder mysteries, or you care to witness a group of ritzy friends being shady and betraying each other on holiday, you won't want to miss this one!
Many thanks to NetGalley and Celadon Books for the ARC in exchange for my review.
“The Texas Observer’s 2023 Must-Read Lone Star Books” by Senior Editor Lise Olsen, with help from Susan Post of Austin's Bookwoman:
Despite a disturbing rise in book bans, Texas is, against all odds, becoming more and more of a literary hub with authors winning accolades, indie bookstores popping up from Galveston Island to El Paso, and ban-busting librarians and other book-lovers throwing festivals. So as you ponder gifts this holiday season or consider what to read by the fire or by the pool (who can say in December?), pick some Lone Star lit.
Here’s a list of #MustRead 2023 books by Texans or about Texas compiled by the Observer staff with help from Susan Post of Austin’s independent Bookwoman. (Several talented Texans also made best book lists in Slate magazine, The New Yorker, and NPR’s Books We Love.)
NONFICTION
We Were Once a Family: A Story of Love, Death, and Child Removal in America by Dallas journalist Roxanna Asgarian (Farrar, Straus & Giroux) is a dramatic takedown of the Texas foster care and family court system. It’s both a compelling narrative and an investigative tour de force.
The People’s Hospital: Hope and Peril in American Medicine (Simon & Schuster) by Ricardo Nuila, a Houston physician and author, is an eye-opening and surprisingly optimistic read. Nuila delves deeply into what’s wrong with modern medicine by painting rich portraits of the patients he’s treated (and befriended) while working at Harris County’s Ben Taub Hospital, which offers free or low-cost—yet high-quality—care against all odds. Each of them had been forced into impossible positions and suffered additional trauma from obstacles and gaps in insurance, corporate medicine, and Big Pharma.
Waco: David Koresh, the Branch Davidians and a Legacy of Rage (Simon & Schuster) by Fort Worth journalist Jeff Guinn is one of two books that mark the 30th anniversary of the standoff between the Branch Davidians and federal agents that ended with 86 deaths. (The other is Waco Rising by Kevin Cook.) Both authors recount how the 1993 tragedy shaped other extremist leaders in America—and still influences separatist movements today.
Quantum Criminals: Ramblers, Wild Gamblers and Other Sole Survivors from the Songs of Steely Dan (University of Texas Press) by Alex Pappademas and Joan LeMay has been described as the quintessential Steely Dan book. As part of the project, LeMay, a native Houstonian, created 109 whimsical portraits of characters that sprang from the musicians’ lyrics and legends. In a review, fellow artist Melissa Messer wrote: “Looking at Joan’s oeuvre makes me feel tipsy, or like I’ve drunk Wonka’s Fizzy Lifting Drink and I’m swimming through the air after her, searching for the same vision.”
Memoir
Black Cameleon: Memory, Womanhood and Myth(Macmillan) by Debra D.E.E.P. Mouton, the former Houston poet Laureate, shares lyrical memories of her own life mixed with ample asides on Black culture and family lore. Her storylines sink deeply into a dream world, and yet readers emerge without forgetting her deeper messages.
Leg: The Story of a Limb and a Boy Who Grew from It (Abrams Books) by Greg Marshall of Austin has been described as “a hilarious and poignant memoir grappling with family, disability, and coming of age in two closets—as a gay man and as a man living with cerebral palsy.” NPR’s Scott Simon, who interviewed Marshall, described the memoir as “intimate, and I mean that in all ways—insightful and often laugh-out-loud funny.”
Up Home: One Girl’s Journey (Penguin Random House) by Ruth J. Simmonsis a powerful memoir from the Grapeland native who became the president of Brown University and thus, the first Black president of an Ivy League institution. Simmons begins by sharing stories about her parents, who were sharecroppers, and about her life as one of 12 children growing up in a tiny Texas town during the Jim Crow era. For her, the classroom became “a place of brilliant light unlike any our homes afforded.” (Simmons’s other academic credentials include being the former president of Smith College; president of Prairie View A&M University, Texas’s oldest HBCU; and the former vice provost of Princeton.)
Novels and Short Stories
An Autobiography of Skin(Penguin Random House) by Lakiesha Carr weaves together three powerful narratives all featuring Black women from Texas. Carr, a journalist originally from East Texas, plumbs the depths of each character’s struggles, sharing tales of gambling, lost love, abuse, and the power of women to overcome.
Holler, Child (Penguin Random House), a new short story collection from Latoya Watkins, was long-listed for the National Book Award. Her eleven tales press “at the bruises of guilt, love, and circumstance,” as the cover description promises, and introduce West Texas-inspired characters irrevocably shaped by place.
The Nursery (Pantheon Books) by Szilvia Molnar—a surprisingly honest, anatomically accurate (and unsettling) novel about new motherhood—begins: “I used to be a translator and now I am a milk bar.” It’s a riveting and original debut by Molnar, who is originally from Budapest, was raised in Sweden, and now lives in Austin.
Two legendary Austin writers weighed in with new novels on our tall stack of Texas goodreads: The Madstone (Little, Brown and Company) by Elizabeth Crook, the 2023 Texas Writer Award winner, and Mr. Texas, a fictional send-up of Texas politics by Pulitzer Prize-winning author Lawrence Wright.
Poetry
Bookwoman’s Susan Post, who contributed titles to our list, also recommends filling your holiday shelves with poetry by and about Texans:
Dream Apartment (Copper Canyon Press) by Lisa Olstein;
Low (Gray Wolf Press) by Nick Flynn;
Freedom House by KB Brookins (published by Dallas’ Deep Vellum Bookstore & Publishing Co.)
Essays
Pastures of the Empty Page: Fellow Writers on the Life and Legacy of Larry McMurtry (University of Texas Press) edited by George Getchow, contains essays from a who’s who list of Texas writers about Larry McMurtry’s influence on Texas culture and their lives. It includes an array of reflections on history and the writing process as well as anecdotes about McMurtry’s off-beat and innovative life.
To Name the Bigger Lie (Simon & Schuster) by Sarah Viren, an ex-Texan who now teaches creative writing at Arizona State University, (excerpted in Lithub) includes reflections on Viren’s experiences (and misadventures) as an “out” academic and writer in states like Florida, Texas, and Arizona. As she dryly notes, “Critiques of the personal essay, and by extension memoir, are often gendered—not to mention classist and racist and homophobic.”
Can you help us survive, and thrive into our 70th year during this challenging time for the journalism industry?
Right now, all donations to the Texas Observer will be matched. Donate now!
🦇 Good afternoon, my bookish bats, and welcome to Tuesday! The best part of any Tuesday: the new books! What new books are you snagging (or ARCs are you requesting) this week?
💌 Mail's here! This week, I had the fortune of receiving a copy of The Fury by Alex Michaelides.
"A masterfully paced thriller about a reclusive ex-movie star and her famous friends whose spontaneous trip to a private Greek island is upended by a murder ― from the #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Silent Patient.
This is a tale of murder.
Or maybe that’s not quite true. At its heart, it’s a love story, isn’t it?
Lana Farrar is a reclusive ex–movie star and one of the most famous women in the world. Every year, she invites her closest friends to escape the English weather and spend Easter on her idyllic private Greek island.
I tell you this because you may think you know this story. You probably read about it at the time ― it caused a real stir in the tabloids, if you remember. It had all the necessary ingredients for a press sensation: a celebrity; a private island cut off by the wind…and a murder.
We found ourselves trapped there overnight. Our old friendships concealed hatred and a desire for revenge. What followed was a game of cat and mouse ― a battle of wits, full of twists and turns, building to an unforgettable climax. The night ended in violence and death, as one of us was found murdered.
But who am I?
My name is Elliot Chase, and I’m going to tell you a story unlike any you’ve ever heard."
🦇 Intriguing, right? Thank you @celadonbooks for sending me an ARC. The Fury goes on sale January 16th!
King of the Witches - A Review | Chapter 2 - A Magic Childhood
King of the Witches Chapter Two – A Magic Childhood
Introduction | 1 - The Young Initiate | 2 - A Magic Childhood | 3 - The Haunted Hill | 4 - Call Down The Spirits | 5 - Bewitched
Thank you for joining me once again as I examine June Johns’ King of the Witches, a biography of Alex Sanders, founder of Alexandrian Wicca. In previous installments we looked at the Introduction and chapter 1 – The Young Initiate which detailed Sanders’ physically impossible initiation into witchcraft at the hands of his maternal grandmother who, as I explained in the last entry of this series, died 19 years before he was born. If you think that sounds ridiculous and absurd, well, strap in because there’s lots more coming.
Chapter 2 starts out telling us that Sanders was a quick study in the secrets of witchcraft (allegedly he learned to read at the age of 3) which he was taught by his grandmother after school. He would go to see her, ostensibly for lessons in Welsh, but after half an hour or so the language lessons were put aside and mystical secrets became the subject instead. The book tells us about him learning about the ritual tools:
“The runic symbols dating back thousands of years when prophets cast sticks into the air and, from the pattern they made in landing, foretold the future; the inscriptions on the witches’ dagger – the kneeling man, the kneeling woman, the bare breasts touching, the arrow speeding through the wheel of life down into the pointed blade, ready to strike at its owner’s bidding; the miniature whip, a harmless substitute for the earlier weapon with which members were scourged, sometimes to the point of death; and the glistening crystal, which fascinated him most of all.”
Now, we know of course that evidence for the use of runes in divination is skimpy at best, but the part that interests me here is the fact that the symbols described here for the athame do not quite match the ones commonly used for this tool from the Greater Key of Solomon, because the symbol representing the Perfect Couple is absent from that symbol set – its earliest source that I can find in print is from Huson’s Mastering Witchcraft which came out in 1970, after which we see it suggested in a modern and Wicca-specific variety of these symbols composed by Doreen Valiente, which is described in the Farrar’s A Witches’ Bible / The Witches’ Way (published 1984). It may be that King of the Witches is the first printed reference to this variety of the athame symbols. If anyone has earlier sources for this, please let me know!
The symbols for the athame from Huson’s Mastering Witchcraft. The symbol for the Perfect Couple is third from the right.
The black-handled knife from the Mathers Key of Solomon. The relevant symbol is the first one on the second row of the handle, and is very plainly the ancestor of that shown by Huson, but the Farrars say that Gardner’s explanation of these is a serpent representing life and a sickle representing death.
The bit about people being scourged to the point of death is obviously hyperbole.
We are also told of Sanders that “He learnt by heart the meaningless chants in a long-dead language” and practiced scrying into a bowl of water with a drop of ink in it. He foresees the birth of his sister Patricia, although this can’t have been too much of a shocker as she was apparently born three months later.
There are stories of visions he has of things that will happen to his schoolmates and consequences for childish mischief – apparently no scrying required! In addition to learning fortune-telling his grandmother also teaches him some rudimental theology:
“His grandmother had explained that there was only one God but that he was known by many names. It was easy, too, to accept that the Virgin Mary was the moon goddess in disguise.” I wonder if the Virgin Mary is as keen on castration as the Moon Goddess mentioned at the end of the previous chapter.
Grandmother Bibby regales the young Sanders with stories of Robin Hood, who was actually a witch who “used his powers to direct money where it was most needed, and to escape his pursuers.” This is rather obviously lifted from Margaret Murray, as is the book’s mention of Joan of Arc, “who was really the Witch Queen of France and unashamedly declared it by her dress in an age when witches were the only females who would wear men’s clothing.” Nonsense, of course. Margaret Murray cast a long and dark shadow.
Fortunately if someone was captured and sentenced to death, there would always be other witches hidden in the crowds at an execution who had smuggled drugs into the prison (obviously lifted from Gardner, this) and if not then they would hypnotize the victim with their magic powers.
Sanders learns herbalism from his grandmother’s teachings and also learns what each plant looks like from pressed examples his grandmother had kept in a book from when she was a girl – we are expressly told that there was barely even any grass where Sanders grew up. We also learn that his grandmother had been a member of a coven of four witches who at night went to an unnamed island in an unnamed mountain lake (belonging to witches since the Middle Ages) do perform rituals.
Sanders performs his first full moon ritual at the age of nine (so 1935 or so) where he also receives and consecrates his athame in a ritual nearly identical to Gardner’s method. Afterward he performs some manner of “calling down the moon”.
Keeping this double life secret poses some difficulties and he has some trouble after boasting to his friends that his grandmother owned swords and that he knows magic. He also starts assisting his grandmother with the rituals she performs to help sick neighbours who asked for help, and copying his own Book of Shadows using hers as a master. This was allegedly copied into an exercise-book and in the impossible event of Sanders’ story being true, I wonder what his explanation for what happened to it was. Possibly he re-copied it in a more adult hand at a later age? Doing this apparently allows him to advance his powers (because of more training? Because he has the athame?) and his grandmother lets him start using the magic crystal. His first attempt at crystal-gazing grants him a horrible vision of things to come, which we know is the aftermath of German bombings during the Second World War.
We learn that his grandmother gave him the witch-name Verbius and that hers was Medea. Now, this may be a bit of actual truth in Sanders’ account, for diFisoa in Coin For The Ferryman (2010) notes “Medea later meets Alex Sanders and makes a decision to initiate him on March 9, 1962.". Medea’s identity is still uncertain, but the prevailing theory is that this was Pat Kopanski. Sanders is following Gardner’s example here, in that Gardner used the conveniently dead Dorothy Clutterbuck as a cover for his working-partner Dafo. In the book Sanders asks his grandmother what would have happened had he never encountered her in a magic circle and she is unsure – she also says her own mother never knew she was a witch and neither did her own children.
He conjures up spirit children to play with (?) and is warned that using magic for selfish means will end in the magician’s destruction. His grandmother uses her powers to help her neighbours without their knowing, although this directly contradicts an earlier page where she uses her powers at their request.
The chapter, like the last one, closes with more grim portents of sadness to come.
- as Wicca is often known - by the New Forest coven in 1939. Gardner's form of Wicca, the Gardnerian tradition, was spread by both him and his followers like the High Priestesses Doreen Valiente, Patricia Crowther and Eleanor Bone into other parts of the British Isles, and also into other, predominantly English-speaking, countries across the world. In the 1960s, new figures arose in Britain who popularized their own forms of the religion, including Robert Cochrane, Sybil Leek and Alex Sanders, and organizations began to be formed to propagate it, such as the Witchcraft Research Association.
It was during this decade that the faith was transported to the United States, where it was further adapted into new traditions such as Feri, 1734 and Dianic Wicca in the ensuing decades, and where organizations such as the Covenant of the Goddess were formed.
From the 1970s onward, books began to be published by such figures as Paul Huson, Scott Cunningham, and Stewart and Janet Farrar which encouraged self-initiation into the Craft, leading to a boost in the number of adherents and the development of traditions. With the rising popularity of Wicca, it was used as a partial basis for witchcraft-based American films and television shows, further increasing its profile, particularly amongst younger people, in the 1990s. a AND