Gothic BJD Tales: Edgar Allan Poe's "The Bridal Ballad"

The ring is on my hand, 
   

And the wreath is on my brow; 


Satin and jewels grand 


Are all at my command, 
   

And I am happy now

And my lord he loves me well; 
   

But, when first he breathed his vow, 


I felt my bosom swell— 


For the words rang as a knell, 
   

And the voice seemed his who fell 


In the battle down the dell, 
   

And who is happy now

But he spoke to re-assure me, 
    

And he kissed my pallid brow, 


While a reverie came o'er me, 


And to the church-yard bore me, 


And I sighed to him before me, 


Thinking him dead D'Elormie, 


"Oh, I am happy now!"

And thus the words were spoken, 
    

And this the plighted vow, 


And, though my faith be broken, 


And, though my heart be broken, 


Here is a ring, as token 
    

That I am happy now

Would God I could awaken! 


For I dream I know not how! 


And my soul is sorely shaken 


Lest an evil step be taken,— 


Lest the dead who is forsaken 
    

May not be happy now

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Notes:  This is my interpretation of theme IV of the Edgar Allan Poe photography challenge that I mentioned in my last entry.  I hadn't planned to illustrate the whole poem, but once I uploaded my pictures, a photostory seemed the best way to show the movement from superficial safety to real or imagined danger.   

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The Edgar Allan Poe BJD Photography Challenge

Hello dear and lovely readers, since my collaborative adaptation of "The Raven" has proven so troublesome, my partner (and author of this guest entry) created a smaller-scale challenge.  I'm sharing it here because I doubt I'm the only one who finds the subject matter inspiring.  The themes are as follows:

I. "It was night in the lonesome October of my most immemorial year"

II. "Spirits moving musically to a lute's well-tuned law"

III. "my life and my bride, in the sepulchre there by the sea, in her tomb by the sounding sea"

IV. "And I sighed to him before me, thinking him dead D'Elormie"

V. "A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young"

VI. "I am dying, yet I shall live."

VII. "And he was a passionate, and wild, and moody man, who became lost in reveries so that he would not see that the light which fell so ghastly in that lone turret withered the health and the spirits of his bride, who pined visibly to all but him."

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 I've been given leave to interpret the Poe quotes as I see fit, so we'll see how this new project goes.  Some things might lend themselves better to a contextual BJD illustration than others.  If any one happens to read this and decides to take on the photo challenge too, I'd love to see the results.  Thanks for reading, as always! :0)

 

 

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I am stretched on your grave and will lie there forever

If your hands were in mine
I'd be sure they could not sever

My apple tree, my brightness
It's time we were together 

For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather

When my family thinks
That I'm safely in my bed

From morn until night
I am stretched out at your head 

Calling out to the earth
With tears hot and wild

My grief for the girl
That I loved as a child

Do you remember the night we were lost
In the shade of the blackthorn
And the chill of frost 

And thanks be to Jesus
We did all that was right 

And your maiden head still
Is your pillar of light

The priests and the friars
They approach me in dread
Because I still love you
My love and you're dead

I still would be your shelter
Through rain and through storm 

And with you in your cold grave
I cannot sleep warm

So I am stretched on your grave
And will lie there forever 

If your hands were in mine
I'd be sure they could not sever 

My apple tree, my brightness
It's time we were together 

For I smell of the earth
And am worn by the weather

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 Notes: I first discovered "I Am Stretched On Your Grave" through the Abney Park song a number of years ago.  More recently, I have also discovered Sinéad O'Connor's older, but no less gorgeous rendition.  Upon having my socks knocked off, I learned that the lyrics are taken from a 17th century Irish poem.  Since then, I have wanted to do a BJD photostory as tribute.

What finally made me start the photostory was an enormous amount aggravation around my attempts to make another Edgar Allan Poe tribute.  As I mentioned in my last post, this Poe project is a collaboration, so there is some extra pressure.  I had started shooting and found that practically everything was garbage. 

Then, we had some rare snow in Vancouver, and to blow off some steam and do a less complicated project, I decided to try an interpretation of "I Am Stretched On Your Grave."  Since this is a poem, I wanted to keep things a little more abstract.  In "Ligeia," I tried to honour Poe's ambiguity.  Here, I wanted to push the ambiguity of what is real and imagined a little further. 

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