Review – Heroines: An Anthology of Short Fiction & Poetry, Volume 2

[Image description: An old-fashioned depiction of Beauty and the Beast from the early 1900s. A blonde-haired Beauty stands to the right with her hands on her face in despair, wearing a flowing green gown. The puma-like Beast crouches in the right-ha…

[Image description: An old-fashioned depiction of Beauty and the Beast from the early 1900s. A blonde-haired Beauty stands to the right with her hands on her face in despair, wearing a flowing green gown. The puma-like Beast crouches in the right-hand corner in surrender, a crushed rose on the pavement beside him. They stand among beautiful flowers with a yellow stone castle beyond. Sourced from Unsplash.]

When girls become beasts. When mothers are monsters. When heroines fall under spells. When they fall under men. When women unleash the wild girls within, teeth bared and truths dripping from red lips.  

 All of these ideas and more pulsate through the pages of Heroines: An Anthology of Short Fiction & Poetry, Volume 2 (2019), edited by Sarah Nicholson and Caitlin White. Heroines is an artfully curated collection of prose, poetry, and mythologies, featuring an all-female line-up of writers from Australia, the UK, and the USA. From ancient Greek legends to modern fairy tales, Heroines is a testament to feminine strength and fire across the ages – but in the ashes, grief and trauma lie.

One of the opening pieces is Anna Jacobson’s intimate poem, ‘Of Matriarchs, Work, and Wishes’ (p. 6), where threads of sacrifice and bone are woven through generations of Jewish women. A similar sense of deep, pervasive sadness is laced through Therese Doherty’s story, ‘A New Land’ (p. 7). Drawing on elements of magical realism, Doherty’s character Agnieszka mourns a lost daughter, while dreaming of a wild girl in the garden.

I knew my woman would be sharp and spiky like this place … She would belong. And unlike the men in the story who created their hapless, captive bride, I would set her free.

Many of the stories in Heroines depict girls who shed gender norms like unwelcome skins. They rise up, beautiful and terrible; ready to take back the power men have denied them. 

In Barbara Taylor’s account of girlish rites and blood sacrifice, ‘Abandon’ or ‘The Arktoi’ (p. 21), girl becomes beast, becomes girl, becomes … other. Taylor’s story vehemently rejects the trope of the girl-child as a pure, innocent creature to be protected and/or sacrificed. Rather, the girl-child is stripped back to her animalistic, fearsome essence.

Similarly, in Louise Pieper’s ‘Melusine’s Daughter’ (p. 34), the European myth of Melusine the water spirit (or mermaid) is reimagined through the eyes of her  “silver-scaled daughter”, Solange, who must kill or be killed. Inspired by Dutch folklore, Pieper’s story flips the wife-murdering whim of a Bluebeard-like character on its head – literally.

 If this tells you anything, it should be that I am not your lady.

Themes of beauty, vanity, and redemption can be glimpsed throughout the anthology, from the doomed fate of Doette in Pamela Hart’s ‘Do not repent’ (p. 58), to the obsessions of a selfie queen in Dianne Leber’s modern interpretation of ‘Cassiopeia’ (p. 81). In ‘Cassiopeia’ particularly, the quest for beauty is framed as a slow degradation of the soul.

I deserve to be beautiful because I pay more eat less am on a first name basis with lovely people on screens.

Meanwhile, a young girl’s unwavering hope conquers atrocity in Wes Lee’s ‘Trapdoor’ (p. 92). Horrific taboos are drawn into the light in this weighty piece, which sets up parallels between the lives of Olive, a nurse, and Miriam, a victim of the ‘ogre’.

Towards the end of the collection, history unravels in Margaret Bradstock’s melodic poem, ‘Barangaroo and the Eora fisherwomen’ (p. 101). In this poem, the traditional customs and songs of the Eora fisherwomen fade away in the “lengthening shadow of Crown Casino”, now built at Barangaroo in the Eora Nation (Sydney).

 Ahh … what has been done to us

                                                 our paradise of waters.

Overall, I found Heroines to be an evocative, compelling collection of feminist writing and fairy tales reborn. Not only is the writing itself rich and varied, but the characterisation too; with works composed from the perspectives of famous characters, goddesses, historical figures, and of course, modern-day heroines of their own stories.

While many of the stories and poems have unhappy endings, I finished the last page of Heroines feeling invigorated and inspired. The anthology fills in spaces where women’s voices have been swallowed and reclaims the autonomy that is rightfully theirs. Girls and women are ever hungry for representation – and in Heroines, we can see ourselves reflected, in all of our formidable glory.

You can order a copy of Heroines here.