Content warning: This review contains discussion and mention of sensitive topics such as domestic and sexual violence and may be triggering to some readers.
To Fall Fable, by Alice Wickenden, reminds us that those with the power to tell stories can shape enduring legacies. In this pamphlet of poetry, Wickenden re-imagines the story of Adam and Eve in a way we’ve never heard it. These accomplished poems cover a wide range of themes and seek to put into language the emotions that sometimes defy description. In breaking down and remaking one of the world’s oldest stories, she challenges gender roles, ideas of consent and sends us into the universe of ‘what if‘.
What if everything we think we know is wrong? How would power and intrinsic personal value shift?
A Godly Proposal
Not we, God said, only you. Won’t it be lonely? she asked. It’s Paradise, God said. Leave your sisters behind.
–Parable (I), Alice Wickenden, To Fall Fable
The second poem in this book is part of a series of three parables scattered throughout the pamphlet. Told in intervals, it unfolds an alternate story of the creation of Eve. In the first parable Eve talks about how she began as one of Adams ribs and the other ribs formed her sisterhood. These sisters were perfectly happy to reside where they were until one day God made a proposal. One of them would become a full human companion for Adam.
Eve is hesitant, after all she was living a fine and full life before this. But God is insistent; Eve capitulates.
One of the most fascinating pieces of this is the idea of agency. In my exposure to religion, I’ve often been presented with a God that had sure and capable hands. He conjured up an entire world without hesitation or negotiation. Wickenden asks me to think about the idea that maybe it wasn’t so self-directed. It also brings up the idea of responsibility associated with most major decision making.
In the original story, it is Eve who is credited with the expulsion of the first two humans from Eden. God promised her a paradise. In the parable above there’s no mention of the rules that would come once she was created. The sales pitch was tempting enough and it was taken on good faith that a Paradise would be delivered.
I can’t help but think of the parallels of some of my own experience in relationships. In the beginning there are promises and proposals of love; everyone is on their best behaviour. Over time, in good relationships these stay steady and although we uncover petty annoyances, they aren’t enough to break a bond. But at other times, the change is far more sinister. The “paradise” we thought we were being led into becomes a cage. The person we thought would act in good faith, as we have, turns into an oppressor.
Pain becomes a punishment we deserve.
The difference with the story of Original Sin, as it is told in most Christian religions– is that no one questions why Eve ‘didn’t just leave’. As I navigate my own trauma recovery and make this connection it leaves me stunned to think of how long a large portion of humanity has cemented moral codes based on toxic themes. Is it any wonder we engage in misogynistic victim blaming when we begin with a story like this?
Wickenden’s retelling is unflinching and raw. It sweeps the legs from an old story in one swift and damning stroke.
Did You Fall– Or Were You Pushed?
abuse repeats itself like a crown of thorns:
we fall into it again and again.
–Crown of Sonnets (I)– Alice Wickenden, To Fall Fable
Perhaps the most stunning and powerful work of this poet is the Crown of Sonnets. Wickenden’s ability to marry form to subject matter in a way that creates and ‘aha!’ moment for the reader is unparalleled.
As I sort through my trauma, I often wander back to ‘where it went wrong’. There must have been one decision or turning point that led to the downfall of everything else. These sonnets remind me of that kind of logic. Each sonnet carries the thread from the last, connecting the human experience until it comes full circle. Over ten years of abuse felt like being stuck in a patch of thorns that I could not see a way to exit, as over and over again I experienced pain and doubt that there was much existence beyond surviving.
…everyone watching thinks it was
inevitable. they discuss over wine and
posh supermarket crisps: this is what
I would have done.
–Crown of Sonnets (I), Alice Wickenden, To Fall Fable
The truth of it is, no one knows what they ‘would have done’ and speculating about that comes from a position of privilege. I think of how often language hinders us from expressing compassion. In fact, sometimes language can encourage harsh judgments just by virtue of its arrangement. Consider for example the construction of sentences such as: “She fell victim to../He fell prey to.. “. Just by virtue of the construction the subject engages in an active verb that somehow implies a responsibility for their situation.
Survivors of domestic and sexual violence, myself included, continue to battle against the idea that somehow we could have stopped the violence- as if we are responsible for such things. We are also subjected to the armchair quarterbacks, sitting in relative ease and calm, who would strategise for us the clear path to victory. These strategies are created without the clanging bell of the amygdala raising a survival alarm and without the cloud of cortisol streaming through the body and brain.
Comments like these are simply more thorns in the crown of abuse that we’ve tried so desperately to extricate from our lives. Truth be told, there are plenty of times that I’ve damned myself for the responsibilities I should have placed squarely on my abuser. Survivors are familiar with regret, we are familiar with feeling like things are our fault; we’ve already learned those lessons from our abusers.
In the last sonnet Wickenden drives home the point about language by writing: “the way language folds in on itself. everything collapses.” The language we use reveals us to one another and has a profound effect on our ability to demonstrate compassion and work toward healing.
In Conclusion
To Fall Fable is full of bravery in the retelling of an ancient story. The poetry is accomplished and not over wrought, as would be so easily done with triggering topics such as domestic and sexual violence. As a survivor, I appreciate authors like Wickenden who tackle these difficult subjects and seek to shed a new light on our thinking of not only the trauma itself, but the aftermath. I also appreciate publishers like Variant Literature, who give platforms to such voices and allow those who have been long silenced, to speak. I highly recommend this book, especially to those who are not survivors. Perhaps it will offer some much needed perspective.
To Fall Fable, by Alice Wickenden is available for purchase at Variant Literature.
Juliette
About the Author
ALICE WICKENDEN is finishing her PhD on Renaissance books in London. She has poems in Anthropocene and Cypress and reviews in the Brixton Review of Books, the TLS and Totally Dublin. In her spare time she volunteers for Abortion Support Network, and reads to her cat.
About the Publisher
VARIANT LITERATURE seeks to support authors by providing a space for personal and professional development. Through collaboration, quarterly journal publication, traditional chapbook & novella publication, and contests that may help the independent author get noticed, we’re here to help you with your literary goals. We are working with our local community on bridging the gap between the millions of authors that go unpublished. We are a proud partner of the North Carolina Writers’ Network.