Witch's Blood for Treat

This is my last post for Halloween 2012. One anecdote that happened tonight and sums up the spirit of Samhain. The town where I live, like many English town, does not celebrate Halloween all that much. Maybe it was the weather, rainy and miserable, or the day of the week. But there were only a few houses decorated, I could count the Jack O'Lanterns. Except one house, owned by an American family, who always decorate their home a lot and celebrate it the proper way. On my way back from work, I had to stop by and watch their display.

I entered into the tent leading to the main door, which was a sanctuary. There were witches, skeletons, various undeads on display, and of course a few Jack O'Lanterns. And a sort of tomb. I said I did not come trick or treating, only to admire what they did with the place. There were a couple of women there, a bit like a witch's covent. The lady of the house asked me to come in and asked "Would you like some witch's blood, from Northern Italy?" I could not refuse. So they poured me a (plastic) glass of red wine, which I drank mostly on the way home, trying to protect it from the dripping rain. I had the time to chit chat with them. There was a two-headed undead/witch thing hanging at the door, delicious sinister, I asked where they found it. She said somewhere in America, then: "It's my aunt and uncle." I replied: "Lovely people." Then shortly after I left, but she had time to tell me that while the tomb was empty now, the zombie that had been lying in it (husband? son?) would be back in about fifteen minutes. But I was tired and hungry, so I left.

There are at least a dozen of great unknown lines that have been said in the short conversation, I think the witch's blood from Northern Italy one deserves to be immortalised here. Witch's blood for red wine, I don't know why but I find it brilliant (and I didn't get the joke at first, being tired, it was only drinking it that it struck me). But more than the lines, it was the gesture and the way they were in the spirit of Halloween that I enjoyed. I loved the generosity, the hospitality, the fact that they had something ready for adults, even those without a costume. This is how trick or treat should be. It made my Halloween night.

Une ghoulash comme repas d'Halloween

J'ai déjà blogué en anglais sur cette soupe, une "ghoulash" à la citrouille. La citrouille comme repas, je l'aime surtout en soupe. C'est ce que j'ai mangé ce soir. Avec du pain à l'aïl pour accompagner. C'était délicieux et je suis sans doute protégé contre les vampires pour la nuit. Pendant des années, j'ai mangé de la pizza le soir de l'Halloween, depuis mon enfance jusqu'à ce que je vive à Montréal. C'est en tout cas le repas d'Halloween dont je me souviens le plus. Je me rappelle aussi avoir mangé de l'indien, d'un repas à la Binerie Mont-Royal (j'étais en plein lendemain de veille, mais la soupe aux pois et le ragoût de boulettes m'avaient ramené à la vie). L'Halloween on l'associe bien sûr d'abord aux friandises, mais il faut bien que l'on mange un vrai repas avant. Il faut que ce repas soit consistant et saisonnier. Enfant, il faut qu'il soit vite mangé pour qu'on ait la soirée devant nous pour aller quêter les bonbons et chocolats. J'imagine que je n'aurais pas aimé la soupe à l'époque.

Halloween, All Hallow's Eve

Well, first things first: Happy Hallowee everyone! I will try to blog more about it tonight, but obviously I want first to enjoy the night: keep on reading horror stories, watching (short) horror movies, etc. To kick start the evening, I thought I would upload this song by Loreena McKennitt. Because it is of course all about my favourite holiday and about my favourite season. Generally, I am not into Pagan or neo Pagan stuff all that much, but I love this song. Anecdote: it is the first song of McKennitt I heard. Enjoy.

Félix pour l'Halloween

Joyeuse Halloween tout le monde! Ici il fait un temps misérable, il pleut, on est en plein milieu de la semaine et c'est à peine s'il y avait des enfants aux portes quand je suis rentré du travail. Et je m'ennuie des Halloweens québécois, incidemment. Je sais que j'ai déjà téléchargé cette chanson de Félix il y a plus de deux ans, mais c'est l'Halloween une fois par année et elle s'y prête bien, alors je la retélécharge pour ce soir d'Halloween 2012. On ne boudera pas son plaisir, après tout.

A Meeting with Jack (part 2)

 This is the part 2 of this year's Halloween story. You can read part 1 here. It is a sort of sequel of the story of Jack O'Lantern which you can read here and here. I will try to turn it into a Halloween tradition of Vraie Fiction.

Pat Halloran wondered if he was not delirious because of the alcohol, yet it all felt so real, the fire, the pumpkin which he could smell as easily as he could see, and the voice of Jack, with that damned accent.

"One day, or one night rather, a Halloween night like this one, I managed to get the better of Old Nick and made a deal with him: he would not take my soul when I die. He kept his word. But I had sinned so much, had been such a wicked man in my lifetime that Saint Peter would let me in upstairs. So I was cursed. Cursed to wander around this world until Judgment Day. Cursed to see this world through the light of this lantern made with a coal from the hottest pit of Hell, without being able to feel. To be eternally thirsty, but eternally sober. You know what, Pat? I think eternal damnation would have been a better fate."

Pat thought the smile of Jack, even though fixed in the flesh of the pumpkin, had turned larger.

"But at least," the ghost carried on, "if I cannot drink or eat, I can at least act upon my wickedness. I am cursed, I also bring curse wherever I go. Those who see me close are either in mortal danger, or some great tragedy is going to fall upon them. But don't worry Pat, in your case, it is only in mortal danger."

Jack O'Lantern chuckled. Pat Halloran felt a sharp pain in his left arm, then a huge weight crushing his heart.

"Time to pay for your own wickedness, old man. If it is any consolation, I envy you," said Jack as the drunkard was shrieking on the ground, giving his last breath. "After all, you know where you are going."

Allumage de citrouille

Ceci est un petit billet de veille de l'Halloween. Quinze minutes. Quinze longues minutes, quinze minutes de pure frustration. C'est le temps que ça m'a pris pour allumer la chandelle de ce Jack O'Lantern. Une chandelle neuve en plus. J'ai pris une citrouille, j'en ai fait un lampion, comme dit le poème et c'est une vraie pénitence que de l'allumer parfois. Je croyais être plutôt calé en allumage de citrouilles. Celle-ci était plutôt rétive. Quand j'étais plongeur, j'avais appris un truc pour tenir l'allumette entre les doigts et allumer les petits lampions comme ceux dans la citrouille de l'Halloween. Je crois avoir désappris, ou alors je suis rouillé. J'ai eu droit à une épilation par le feu de mon pouce droit. Au moins je suis encore vivant.

Hobgoblin, the beer of Halloween

To all the beer lovers who are also Halloween aficionados, the holiday would not be completed without at least one pint of Hobgoblin (or Scarecrow if you can find any) by Wychwood Brewery. I plugged the beer last year, but I thought to do it again this year. 1)Because it is delicious. 2)Because both the drink and the label on the bottle are perfect for Halloween. 3)Because the label changes every year. This year it is quite a success, I think, with the Hobgoblin holding two Jack O'Lanterns. I drank two this month, which is not that many. As Halloween is on a weekday this year, and I avoid alcohol on weekdays (it disturbs my sleep), I will probably not drink more Hobgoblin. A shame. As an adult, I find drinking such spooky themed beer a proper way to celebrate Halloween, which is also, like many autumn celebrations, a celebration of harvest. And since beer is made of barley and wheat, it is maybe the alcohol of harvest. And this one is dark and has a hobgoblin on the label. So here it is. Drink it if you can.

Le retour de l'obscurité

Je télécharge cette photo un peu arbitrairement, parce que c'est l'Halloween et que les fantômes apparaissent surtout la nuit. Elle a été prise hier, en soirée, ce fantôme était dans la vitre d'un salon de coiffure (on dit barber shop ici pour les hommes). Quand je suis sorti, le soir tombait, il faisait presque nuit quand j'ai pris la photo. La raison est simple: nous avons eu droit au changement d'heure en fin de semaine. Alors dès 5 heures, il fait nuit. Ce soir, j'ai quitté le travail à la nuit noire. Le changement d'heure, peut-être autant que l'équinoxe, marque l'automne. Non pas son arrivée, mais son apogée. L'Halloween, c'est un peu l'apogée de l'automne aussi.

A Meeting with Jack (part 1)

Part 1 of my Halloween story.I hope you enjoy.

It was on Halloween night that Pat Halloran died. That night, like many others, he had drank plenty of Molson and Canadian whisky in a small bar in Magog, where he had been thrown out as he had picked up a fight, and was heading home, walking through a path crossing corn fields. He was a tall and large man, with a strong frame, black bushy hair and a round sanguine face that looked crimson because of the alcohol.

Pat was walking laboriously down the path, his eyes watching his feet so they wouldn't stumble on a rock or a hole in the ground, when he felt a presence ahead of him. It was first a smell of smoke and fire, mixed with something like ripe, moist fruit. He rose his head and saw a tall and lanky figure a few steps ahead of him. The man was tall, clad in an old fashioned Burgundy red coat. Then Pat noticed the stranger's head. It was covered by a pumpkin, a pumpkin carved to look like a face. The eyes were diamond shaped and it had a sharp teethed mouth, giving a grin that was both cruel and sad. It must have been the alcohol playing tricks on him, Pat thought, as there was a fiery red light shining from inside the pumpkin. He could feel the heat of the fire emanating from the pumpkin, but with it there was a freezing chill surrounding the stranger.

"Good evening, Pat!" said the lanky man, with an Irish accent..

"How do you know my name? Have you been around here?"

"A couple of times I have walked through the Eastern Townships, Pat. I travel a lot, never had the time to stop by much, but tonight we had to meet."

Pat Halloran did not like the familiar tone the stranger was taking and he was eager to be home and drink what was left of the bottle of gin he was keeping under the bed.

"Whatever you think you have to do, you get lost!" said Pat. "I go my way, you go yours and you get off the path."

"That is not possible Pat. You are not going any further tonight."

"Like Hell I won't!"Pat roared and he ran the stranger. The lanky man didn't move and didn't try to avoid the angry fist of the drunkard. When the fist reached its target the stranger did not flinched, did not move of an inch, but Pat felt a sudden chill spreading all over him, so overwhelming that he fell in his knees, unable to breath for a moment.

"I told you!" said the stranger in a mocking tone. "You cannot beat me, I don't feel pain anymore, and when I am in someone's way, I only leave when I want. Now, no more funny business. You don't have much longer."

"Who... who are you?"

"My name is Jack," said the stranger. "I was once like you: a crook, a drunkard, the worst of all Ireland in fact. Well, like you, I was not as big or as quick to anger. I was nasty in other ways. I was smarter too, if I may say so myself, even drunk. And I was often drunk."

"I don't want to know."

"Well, it's not like you have a choice, so you might as well. I don't have many occasions to tell my story, so I enjoy that one. I said I was often drunk. Ah I loved alcohol! The smell of it, the taste of course! Stouts, Irish whiskey, gin, poteen, wine from France and Italy sometimes... Oh how I miss getting drunk! And I even miss the hangovers. The taste of a good Irish breakfast afterwards. With eggs, mushrooms, bacon and white pudding and fried potatoes... I miss all this too. See, Pat, I am a ghost. I do not feel anymore, but I remember when I could."

"Yeah right! You are not a ghost, you are crazy!"

Jack suddenly leaped forward, grabbed Pat by the collar and pulled him by his face. Pat felt the freezing grip of Jack's long fingers, and the fire of his breath. He looked into the eyes of Jack and saw with terror that the pumpkin was hollow, save for a burning coal in the middle of it.

"Crazy, really? I sure don't have all my head anymore. I have to do with a lantern."

Jack released the drunkard from his grip. Pat Halloran fell heavily on the ground.

"I shall carry on now, and no more interruptions."

L'horreur au Québec (?)

Je pensais en faire une question existentielle, mais c'est peut-être un peu trop complexe comme question. Les questions existentielles doivent être simples, ou alors elles doivent être posées en une seule question. Enfin bref, c'est l'Halloween bientôt, je lis des histoires d'horreur et je me demandais ce qu'il en était de l'horreur au Québec, maintenant et historiquement. Il est plus développé maintenant, avec quelques films ici et là et j'ai cru comprendre un peu de littérature, mais il se fait en général peu de choses. On a un fond de tradition avec nos contes québécois, qui peuvent être parfois assez macabres, mais ils ne sont pas violents comme le sont les histoires de fantômes anglaises, par exemple. Souvent, les contes québécois sont des histoires moralistes un peu sombres, avec une morale bien catholique, mais ils sont loin de L'Exorciste. J'adore les contes québécois, comme j'adore les contes de toutes cultures, mais il faut bien le dire, ils ne sont pas toujours les plus terrifiants. Mais surtout, on n'a pas de tradition d'horreur, ou alors peu, dans notre littérature et notre filmographie. Peut-être est-ce que je trompe. Quelle est la tradition d'épouvante au Québec, s'il y en a une?

Jack O'Lantern

This is the second of the Jack O'Lantern I carved tonight. I decided to carve them earlier this year, as this is the last weekend before Halloween. I can enjoy the two lanterns for longer. You can see the first one here. I prefer the second one, as it is scarier. The first one looks like a younger, dumber brother. This Jack is pure malevolence.

So this is a quick catch up, countdown to Halloween post. I have more things coming up until the 31st. I was thinking about blogging a story set in Scholomance, but I struggled with it too much. I have something else in mind now, I think the ideas will flow smoothly. It is another story about Jack O'Lantern. I did my own take on the legend last year (you can read it here and here) and I have been wanting to write more about Jack. So I hope to give you my own spooky tale for Halloween. Until then, you have this picture.

Première de deux citrouilles

 Je m'y suis pris tôt cette année, enfin relativement tôt, mais selon ce que j'ai lu c'est le bon temps pour creuser les citrouilles en Jack O'Lanterns. J'ai donc décidé de creuser les citrouilles ce soir, comme ça j'ai toute la fin de semaine pour les apprécier et jusqu'à mercredi soir (inclusivement). Ceci est la première, de la citrouille plus petite. Je voulais un sourire fade comme dans le poème que j'avais appris en troisième année. Elle a peut-être l'air un brin trop bonasse et pas assez démoniaque. Je ne sais pas. Dites-moi ce que vous en pensez.

Pumpkin Ghoulash

This is a quick countdown to Halloween post and another that is about food. I am not the biggest fan of tinned soups, but some companies really make great soups just like the ones you would find at home. I love the ones made by Covent Garden Soup Co. They have a soup of the month, which every October is of course Halloween themed (I mentioned one back in 2008): it is a Pumpkin Ghoulash soup. Notice the voluntary mispelling of goulash. You can even find the recipe on the website. I am plugging it on Vraie Fiction today because it is absolutely delicious. It has just as much if not more carrots and other things as it has pumpkin. But it is a very much a seasonal, autumnal soup. It is hearty and filling and delicious. I love soup when it is hearty. When I have a cold like now, soups such as this goulash give me energy, sooth the pain in my throat and nose and overall bring me back to life. The Pumpkin Ghoulash also gives you two portions of fruits and vegs, which makes it almost too good for the gluttonous nature of Halloween. Still, it is perfect comfort food. And it is made of pumpkin. So it is my Halloween soup and I think I will eat it on Halloween night.

Premier acte de Faust

C'est l'Halloween très bientôt, je me demandais quoi télécharger ici comme musique et je me suis rappelé d'une semi-tradition que je n'ai pas observé à chaque année, mais assez régulièrement: télécharger un peu du Faust de Gounod. Je vais donc en faire une tradition d'Halloween sur ce blogue. Faust est ici interprété par Roberto Alagna et Méphistophélès par René Pape. C'est une très belle mise en scène.

Halloween donuts

I bought these a few days ago. They were a pound in Sainsbury's (they sell all Halloween desserts for a pound, so it's a bargain). I crave donuts from time to time and those are Halloween donuts, so I had to buy them. Maybe I am a sucker. After all, they are normal, glazed donuts, only with an orange glazing and some chocolate sprinkles.  Their association with Halloween is tenuous at best.

Then again, maybe I am not such a sucker. For one, those donuts are associated to the gluttonous aspect of Hallowen, of which trick or treating is a modern manifestation. Donuts are also associated in The Simpsons's episode Treehouse of Horror IV, where Homer sells his soul to Satan for a donut (you can see a few minutes of the episode here). In a way, he makes a Faustian pact. Now, I can also mention that Anthony Burgess,my favourite author, wrote in a dissertation on Marlowe's Dr Faustus that Faust secretly desires damnation because he wants to experience hell. So every time I eat a donut I think of this episode of The Simpsons, and then of the Faustian pact, and about the appeal of eternal damnation when one is tempted by Satan in folklore...

And I cannot believe that in one post I talked about Marlowe, Anthony Burgess, the legend of Faust, Halloween, The Simpsons in a post about trivial donuts.

Le Diable et moi

Cette illustration est tirée de ce bouquin, elle est je crois d'Erlé Ferronnière. Je l'ai téléchargée parce que c'est l'Halloween bientôt, parce que ce démon est sans doute le Diable en personne, que je parle du Diable ici et parce que ce que je vais écrire, je l'ai appris du livre. Dans le chapitre sur les démons, j'apprend donc que parmi les surnoms de Satan, il y a celui du "vieux Guillaume". Je sais que pour Lucifer, c'est un nom de guerre, mais quand même. J'ai l'un des noms du Diable.

Looking like a vampire

This is tonight's countdown to Halloween post. The picture was taken from this book. I don't look nearly as sinister or as grim as the count, I do not have his old fashioned elegance either, but I sure looks like a vampire. I have a cold see. When I have a cold, it usually starts in autumn and lasts until May. So I look pale, I cough, I sleep badly during weekdays, which means my eyes look very vampiric, bloodshot and all. I look like a Nosferatu all right, or a man who will soon turn into one.

And it might be the case. Vampires, just like werewolves,can become what they are not only by being bitten, but also through indirect means, say being a heathen, an heretic, and excommunicated or... being a werewolf in your lifetime. So I fit the bill. These days, I certainly have the right look.

Pourriture et consolation montréalaises

Ce n'est pas une nouvelle qui m'a fait sauter de joie, mais elle m'a consolé un peu du triste état de ma ville: Gérald Tremblay, cette chiffe molle sans leadership, ce petit minable créationniste qui a réussi à être maire de la métropole du Québec pour trois mandats, ne se représentera pas aux prochaines élections municipales. Il y a quatre ans, j'espérais que les électeurs lui montrent la porte. Ca aurait été la punition appropriée. On se console comme on peut...

One week until Halloween

I am writing here something obvious. But Halloween is an obsession of mine. The official countdown starts on the first of October, but for me it starts in early September, sometimes even before. This year I started reading horror stories from mid-August. It is something I do since I am a child, as thinking of Halloween helped me coping with the end of holidays and the grey days of school. It is a shame Halloween this year will happen on a Wednesday, in the middle of the week, when I am at my most tired and when I usually go to bed early. In many ways, I celebrate Halloween more in the days before than on the night of the 31st. I guess it comes from being an adult. I don't do trick or treat, but I do enjoy it differently, in a more mature way I guess. Anyway, this is a good reason as any to upload a Jack O'Lantern picture. This is the one I made in 2010.

Question existentielle (156)

Mon lectorat de longue date doit savoir que je suis fasciné par la légende de Faust, je pose donc cette question existentielle:

-Contre quoi vendriez-vous votre âme au diable?