MOONDANCE

I've always liked this piece of writing. It was another story that came out in a single rush. It just appeared to me, fully formed.

A few years earlier I'd read Jack Zipes' book THE TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS OF LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD, and I'd worked on a kind of updating, that - after a good weird opening - got stymied and died on the page (I hope I can resurrect it someday, because that opening was really good; really weird; more than a little disturbing). Anyway, I'm pretty sure Jack Zipes' book, as well as Angela Carter, fed into this. I seem to remember that I read Jonathan Carroll's outstanding novel SLEEPING IN FLAME (wonderfully infuriating ending and all) around that time, so was possibly inspired by that as well - a little.

This was certainly one of the first things I wrote so concisely. I like it for that a great deal. I'm working on a screenplay adaptation at the moment (probably for animation) that I hope can keep the conciseness, and the loose ambiguity, suggesting more than it shows or tells. I'm hoping for a little poetry in the images.

I think it's working...



MOONDANCE by Neil Snowdon


I remember, in days long before these, when my kind were hunted all across Europe.

Out of the dark forests of Germany and Romania, the Eldest and the Wisest learned how to walk on two legs instead of four. Learned to blend in with our hunters and survive in their cities.

But still, in time, we were hunted again. Our hiding place discovered; inside the bodies of men, and put to death with silver… the earth bound tears of our mother the Moon. Her sad face looks upon us still, once a month, turning to look on us, her children… and we, uncontrollable in her sight, must come to her, bay and howl to her… and sacrifice for her love.

She is our mother, and she loves us.

We are her children, but she cannot protect us. We live alone and in fear… but our fear is lessening. The world of Man, the world of Sun, is without mystery and darkness. Its peoples are visible and constant, its magic electrical and controlled, its dreams are pixels… and its myths are caged.

I fear little as I walk in the world of Man.

But it fears me.

My face is not constant, nor my nature controlled.

Sister Night shelters me, holds me in her dark embrace.

Mother is turning once more to look on me with love…

My teeth feel sharp and my belly is cold and empty…

Watch as I eat this little girls heart…