Straddling his chimera

This column was first published in The fifth season N°7.

«Midnight approaches and something demonic waits in the dark/In the moonlight, you catch a glimpse of something that makes your heart stop beating/You try to scream but the terror swallows your scream before it comes out/You can barely move, the horror stares you right in the eyes/You're paralyzed.»

Michael Jackson, Thriller
Lyrics by Rod Temperton
(Approximate translation)

Open Folmagories, To be a fan of phantasmagoria is to open the door of everyday life to the marvellous, and not to fear ghosts, witches, wolves, will-o'-the-wisps or, more generally, any apparition of sound, mist, gas or light. Basically, it means accepting that reality, to make ends meet, to exist, to function and to fulfill its role, must necessarily have recourse to the imaginary as a means of opposition, of struggle, of contrary effect, just as the biceps only functions with the elastic movement of the triceps, its antagonist.

Dunia Miralles breaks the dry routine with these short stories subway work sleep. For her, whether the reader sleeps awake or awakens his sleep is perhaps the same thing. She thus revives the fantastic literature of yesteryear, of Poe, Dumas père, Maupassant or Aymé, while manipulating her characters in the midst of contemporary settings, from the Costa Blanca to the canton of Neuchâtel, from the eminent Mediterranean to the cool, grainy waters of Lac des Brenets.

It doesn't matter that the Vouivre in the world's image has changed her skin, that she's pale and out of shape, covered in slime: «It's the case with vouivres as with all phantasmagorical creatures. Their appearance and gifts change according to circumstances.» Fantastic apparitions are mixed according to the story. You'll find primitive spirits that cast a hard spell, like trolls or vampires. You'll find the corpse withdrawing from the earth, vibrating and stirring, carried away by the frozen wind of cemeteries, but you'll also find the less grandiloquent, the more natural, the modest, Sunday apparition that provides just as much effect - the flame of a candle sometimes surpassing in beauty the Midsummer fire - as is the case, for example, a talking buzzard with Christian intentions who saves a suicidal character from the angel's leap, only to invite him to leap inside himself.

The limited appearance of fantastical creatures will soothe the reader, calm his anguish, like the temporary dish of a hallucinated rollercoaster. Because from time to time, it is necessary to untangle the skein of the plot so that the heart doesn't give out and the desire to read ceases. But Dunia Miralles has a trick up her sleeve: sensuality. Where repeated fantastical apparitions wouldn't bore everyone, sensuality does. Rather, moments of sensuality, infused into the plot, that persuade the reader to stretch his neck for a bite or strain his ear for a shiver:

«The enchantress lay down on the bed beside me. Protective, she placed her hand on my breast. Her soft wings, which no tear would add, covered me delicately. Her hair rubbed against my sheets with the sensual sound of crumpled silk. Wrapping her cock lasciviously around my thighs, she brought her mouth close to my ear canal. So close that her smile gave me a pleasant shiver.»

Behind her immersive short stories and her acrobatic work on narrative, Dunia Miralles is astride her chimeras, daring to tackle the mists and cross the calm atmosphere of cemeteries. The vaccine reminder to yesterday's fantasy genre is done. And if the reader's hair bristles, it will be stroked sensuously and brilliantly. In fact, the human embrace is not so different from the embrace of a fantastic creature - there's always friction. With these settings, we'd like the adventure to last. If the plot were longer, if instead of short stories there were an opulent novel, with highs and lows, contrast and unity, a fall and a path to follow, a dark path on which to lose oneself and cry out even louder and further.

Photo credit: © Pixabay

Write to the author: arthur.billerey@leregardlibre.com