It’s nice to be able to go back and read something you had to study for your MA and find that you can now re-read it for enjoyment.
At the moment I have several books on the bedside table, three of them by/about Angela Carter … no, wait four.
Susannah Clapp’s delightful A Card from Angela Carter (which Lisa and I would like to rename Angela Carter is sending cards from beyond the grave coz she *is* that fkg good).
Black Venus by Carter, a collection of wonderfully deep and dark tales, including “The Fall River Axe Murders”, “Peter and the Wolf”; and the fantastically named “Our Lady of the Massacre”.
And her final collection, the Virago Angela Carter’s Book of Fairy Tales, which Carter edited and Shahrukh Husain (editor of The Virago Book of Witches) drew togther into its final form.
And finally, Lorna Sage’s Essays on the Art of Angela Carter: Flesh and the Mirror. It is 
from this tome that I take today’s quote of dark delight:
‘Fine art, that exists for itself alone, is an art in the final stage of impotence. If nobody, including the artist, acknowledges art as a means of knowing the world, then art is relegated to to a kind of rumpus room of the mind …’