Abstracts
‘Bias Cut’ is an original piece of short fiction inspired by the art and writings of Leonora Carrington (1917-2011). It was written for a reading in her honour at the Tate museum, Liverpool, during the exhibition ‘Leonora Carrington: Britain’s Lost Surrealist’ in April 2015.
Index terms
Mots-clés :
nouvelle, micro-récit, Carrington Leonora, surréalisme, flash fiction, fiction britannique, fantastique, écriture féminine, transformation, corpsKeywords:
short fiction, Carrington Leonora, surrealism, creative writing, microfiction, flash fiction, British fiction, fantastic, women’s writing, transformation, bodyFull text
1On that same morning she first began to realize that she was losing weight. That very same morning she saw her skin begin to slacken, softly pooling round her belly like ripples from a stream. The rings slipped from her fingers, and her backbone was rattling in the bath tub. For the first time, she noticed the slats of her ribs, and even her feet seemed smaller, sliding sideways in her slippers made of satin. She felt suddenly light and free, as she smoothed the scented lotion on a body that did not belong to her.
2The dress hung waiting inside its plastic sheath, oyster silk, bias cut, following the contours of the figure, the neckline embroidered with seed pearls. She watched its reflection in the dressing table mirror as the hairdresser lifted the weight of her hair — fine and soft, and still its natural colour — brushing and pinning so briskly her head nodded under its force. Someone else painted her nails, the brush tickling back and forth, and then it was time to colour her face.
3Women swarmed around her, chattering and kissing. Her mother dressed in poppies and feathers; her four best friends each alike and different, tall and short, pale and tanned, dark and ginger. Her heart beat faster in its house of skin and bone, and as she closed her eyes to take in the scent of roses, her heart suddenly skittered free. That very morning.
4On that morning, the dress left its hanger for the first and final time. It took its place in the back of the white limousine, and the rain stopped to watch it go by. A churchyard, primroses scattered round the headstones. A robin and a weeping willow. The damp smell of the vestry. A cough, a hesitation, then the striking of the chords, and the entrance through the darkened doorway. Heads turning as the dress began its progress down the aisle, the silk train spilling across the red carpet.
5No one saw the mouse dart from underneath a pew, to retrieve a tiny seed pearl left behind. When the people were gone and the doors closed again, the mouse took it to her nest built from discarded hymn books, while the dress took the bride’s place on the dance floor, until it was time to be packed away again, in its plastic sheath, oyster silk, bias cut, following the contours of the figure.
References
Electronic reference
Ailsa Cox, “‘Bias Cut’”, Angles [Online], 2 | 2016, Online since 01 April 2016, connection on 16 February 2025. URL: http://journals.openedition.org/angles/1830; DOI: https://doi.org/10.4000/angles.1830
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