Serpent Archetype, DNA Double Helix & Chaotic Visions Underpin Outwardly Light-Hearted Fantasy Novel

Author Clark T. Carlton enchants and beguiles readers by ratcheting up the fairy tale format to creative new heights of originality

I’ll start by revealing what happens to the two main characters at the end of Diamonds and Roses, Snakes and Toads, a new fantasy novel by author Clark T. Carlton.

But don’t worry! Believe me when I say that sharing this will not spoil the story or ruin the ending. So, here is what happens:

Main character №1 is the blonde, lovely, and incredibly sweet & comely Gwendolyn Honeydale.

She will achieve Secular Salvation.

Main Character №2 is the dangerously attractive but spiteful raven-haired beauty Frances “Fanny” Honeydale, Gwendolyn’s sister.

She will achieve a spectacular form of Mythological Transcendence.

Okay, now, let’s talk about this book.

THE ARCHETYPAL FAIRY TALE TRANSFORMED

Having read four previous books penned by Carlton, I was surprised that the first chapters of the book play out like a delightful yet rather derivative homage to the classic fairy tale archetype.

Like Cinderella, the setting is an ambiguously Renaissance/Baroque milieu, featuring royal castles that rule over a countryside of peasant farms & villages. It’s a world of sharply defined castes — millions of dirt-poor peasants on the bottom rung, a small middle class of merchants, artisans, and shopkeepers — and the privileged few at the top, the uber-wealthy ruling elites, including kings, barons, earls, knights, bishops, and the like.

The focus family is the Honeydales, a widowed single mother rearing her just come-of-age daughters. Again, the two young ladies are:

The humble and compassionate Gwendolyn.
Her slightly older sister, Fanny. Truly a rancid bitch.

We are introduced to this family at a time when they find themselves clinging precariously to a social status hovering just above the peasant class. They formerly enjoyed the rank of, I suppose, “landed gentry,” as in, well-to-do country agrarians. However, it was the death of the father, Master Honeydale, that set the prospects of the three women adrift, edging them toward penury.

The fairy tale motif continues as Gwendolyn encounters an extraordinary figure lurking near the edge of a mysterious, dark forest called Inkwoods. Is it a witch? A fairy godmother? Something even more unfathomable?

Another standard fable device follows wherein a young heroine receives a fabulous, magical gift that will transform her life. In this case, Gwendolyn is charmed with the magical ability to issue fabulous diamonds from her mouth every time she speaks. That’s right! Diamonds, rubies and emeralds just fall out of her mouth! For a kicker, graceful flowers also come forth.

Soon thereafter, her sister Fanny also confronts the mysterious fairy-witch of Inkwoods. However, Fanny’s toxic personality causes the “godmother” to curse her instead of blessing her with a gift.

Whereas Gwendolyn spits out precious stones, Fanny now ralphs poisonous snakes and warty bullfrogs every time she opens her acid-tongued cakehole to offer a statement.

FAIRY TALE FORMULA LEVERAGED FOR INNOVATIVE FANTASY MAYHEM

Well … remember when I said I was “surprised” that the first chapters of the book hewed slavishly to the fairy tale trope?

I was surprised because, after all, this is a Clark T. Carlton novel.

After reading now five of this guy’s titles, I can tell you that he doesn’t truck in tired tropes; nor does he regurgitate formulaic fiction or riff-bash hackneyed plots. Just the opposite, what I’ve come to expect from Carton is stellar literary invention, off-the-charts creativity, cunning plot twists, and beguiling entertainment.

I’m happy to report that I was, once again, not disappointed.

True, Carlton leveraged a fairy tale motif to set the stage. However, he soon goes unchained and jailbreaks off the reservation to plunge his readers into realms of the fantastically strange.

For me, the point where this kicks off is when the cursed Fanny is exiled into the deeper, exotic realms of the Inkwoods forest. Lost and destitute, she suddenly finds herself thrust into the frenetic activities of mythologically familiar but extraordinarily & outrageously behaving denizens of Fae — in this case, brownies, pixies, and gnomes.

The very forest itself comes alive — tree roots, mud, leaves, brambles & vines, moss & muck — all conspire with the personified faery elementals to swirl around Fanny in an energetic, maniacal pandemonium that shatters any connection with her sense of having once belonged to a world of normalcy.

If you can imagine an amalgamation of the grotesque and surrealistic paintings of Hieronymus Bosch combined with the neo-mythological Scandinavian art of the 19th-century Viking Revival movement (such as Peter Nicolai Arbo), you may get an idea of how Carlton paints a literary picture of the happenings within the deepest, darkest corners of a faery realm forest.

HERE’S THE THING …

For me, this novel might be compared to the double helix of a DNA molecule, wherein:

DNA Strand One Is:

The story of the saintly Gwendolyn Honeydale, who — more or less — acts out an archetypal fairy tale story arc in the manner of Cinderella, although her story is meatier and more complex than that of Cinderella. She gets embroiled in everything from sexual politics to Machiavellian intrigues, along with manorial feudalism and the follies of human greed. But the important thing is that she remains grounded in the routine life-games of surface-level humanity, albeit characterized here by a kind of Medieval feudalism, and only touched tangentially by incidents of magic.

And as I said, her story resolves with what I call Secular Salvation.

DNA Strand Two Is:

The other DNA strand represents the story arc of the devilish Fanny Honeydale, whose fate is to be abruptly plucked out of a recognizable reality and cast into the realm of the fantastically, mythopoetically bizarre.

Her experiences are akin to a perhaps more hellish version of Carl Jung’s concept of the Shadow. This is the hidden, unconscious realm populated by the infinitely varied “Monsters of the ID.” In this case, the latter are characterized and/or personified by the mischievous creatures of Fae.

Note that Gwendolyn’s story resolves — but Fanny’s story does not resolve; rather, it evolves and continually transforms. Every new iteration of her supernatural Initiations or rites of passage draws her deeper and deeper down into a swirling rabbit hole of exotica.

As I said, Fanny eventually achieves a kind of Mythological Transcendence, but for her, this is not a denouement. It’s a beginning. She owns a fate not destined to resolve. Her former self-concept as a mundane human s is radically transfigured and remodeled, not just once, but repeatedly throughout her experiences.

I mean, verily, Fanny endures Initiation rituals that are like the Greeks’ Eleusinian Mysteries on steroids.

NOW THINK UPON THIS …

For me, the “secret sauce,” the special mojo, the underlying, compelling go-juice of Carlton’s tale is drawn from the energy spun off from the dynamic tension generated by the interaction of the two DNA-like story strands. Again, each strand represents the story arc of the main characters.

Think of the way electricity is generated by magnetic induction. It’s accomplished by rotating magnets around a coil of copper wires. When the magnets pass by copper wires, they “push” electrons through the wires to create an electrical current.

In the case of Carton’s story, the energy is generated by the forces internal to each DNA strand rotating around each other — this casts off the energy that infuses power into the narrative.

BUT WAIT A MINUTE, IF YOU THINK I’M JUST REACHING…

… Then take a moment right now to go back to this book’s cover art (at the top of this article) and notice the image of a viper curling around the top right corner of the picture frame. I can’t see this without thinking about one of the most powerful archetypal symbols that has persisted within human culture for millennia.

Left to right: Detail from book cover art; the caduceus; Symbol of the god Ningishzida, on the libation vase of Sumerian ruler Gudea, c. 2100 BCE.; graphic of the DNA molecule.

That’s right, it’s the caduceus — two snakes intertwined around a central rod that is appended by wings at the top. Today, it is used to represent healthcare, medicine and hospitals. But it is also the symbol of the Greek god Hermes, as well as the Egyptian god Thoth and the Sumerian god Ningishzida. Additionally, the Greek god of healing, Asklepios, wielded a staff wrapped by a serpent, albeit, in his case, a single snake.

By a fantastic coincidence of history, this stubbornly persistent motif of the caduceus is marvelously suggestive of the DNA molecule’s double helix structure.

Note that the gods Hermes, Thoth and Ningishzida all represented analytical traits, such as wisdom, communication, science and knowledge — but another key trait associated with each of them is: exotic and esoteric systems of magic.

My point is that, whether the author intended it or not, the universal archetype of the caduceus found a way to insert itself into the heart of the story. The interplay of the “Gwendolyn strand” and the “Fanny strand” revolves around one another to generate an overarching “power” behind the plot.

Furthermore, an aspect of the plot is the interplay between the harsh realities of a feudalistic, caste-laden social structure — counterbalanced by totally unbounded elements of sorcery, witchcraft and enchantments.

Whether the artist who produced the cover art intended it or not, the caduceus found a clever way to insert itself into the image.

The great thing about this book, however, is that you can ignore everything I have discussed in the last part of my review. This book can be enjoyed for simply what it is, a fun, fantastical and highly original fairy tale that will enthrall and entertain.

It’s a wonderful book.

FIND OTHER CLARK T. CARLTON’S BOOKS HERE:

A Bitch for God — MY REVIEW