“You must know that I am built up of death, from head to foot, and it is a corpse who loves you and adores you and will never, never leave you!”
From “the Phantom of the Opera” by Gaston Leroux (1909)
01/10/2023, London, UK
My dear,
I write to you now with a message of another September long gone. Autumn steadily approaches with every passing day, hunting down those who fear it most. Personally, I’ve always enjoyed the colder months of the year the most. There’s just something inarticulate in these gloomier months that makes me feel closer to my beloved Gothic literature and fairytales; stories of gloom, Romantic darkness, and human perseverance. It’s the haunting season for a reason, after all.
This month’s letter is dedicated to the “death and the maiden” trope, something that has inexplicably been on my mind quite often this past month. No, this time I have no odd or fantastical dream to put the blame on. Instead it’s all just thanks to me, and my mind. Whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing, remains to be seen. But before we discuss all of that, there is one bite-sized piece of White Lily Society writing that might also spark your interest: there’s a short write-up on the legend of the Lady of Shallot, its origins, and the pre-Raphaelites, available here. You’re welcome.
So, with that politely moved out of the way, let’s get into the meat of the newsletter.
I. Archive updates
“[…] the urge towards love, pushed to its limit, is an urge towards death.” & “I can tell myself that repugnance and horror are the mainsprings of my desire, that such desire is only aroused as long as its object causes a chasm no less deep than death to yawn within me, and that its desire orientated in its opposite, horror.”
“Eroticism” by Georges Bataille (1957)
Another month, another archive update. As usual, the White Lily Society archive has been stockpiled with plentiful new reads, articles and research papers to indulge in, covering all manner of subjects. However, space in this digital piece of post is notoriously limited, so, let me instead take this opportunity to present you with three of my most darling, favourite “death and the maiden” related readings. Something to let simmer in your mind like they have in mine.
[TW] “the History of Life-Sized, Fully Dissectible ‘Anatomical Venuses’” - link
Back when science was still in its infancy, and anatomical studies were scarce and exclusive, one of the ways one could go about learning about the human body was through life-size, realistic and fully-dissectible wax models of beautiful women, looking more asleep than dead. This short article is more of a summary of the practice, but for those who dare, the text is a good introductory piece, and the images are… quite fascinating in their own right. Do beware: TW for realistic anatomical models.
“Such models are particularly thought-provoking, complicating the history of the Anatomical Venus, with details that seem less bent on educating the viewer and existing to simply dazzle — or arouse — the viewer.”
A two-fold of prose pieces, the first is a stunning poem by Margaret Atwood about the historical concept of “marrying the hangman”. In order to escape death by hanging, men could choose to take up the job of executioner (a “hangman”), or women could choose to marry him. The poem is based on events from 1751, when Françoise Laurent was sentenced to hang and convinced the man in the cell next to her to fill the empty role of hangman, and to marry her, thus cunningly escaping her own death.
The second piece is by my beloved Angela Carter- a short story about desire, incest, death, punitive justice, and the role language plays in navigating these concepts. As always, Carter’s writing is glittering and lush, and wonderfully provocative;
“They have an inexhaustible capacity for sin but are inexorably baulked by ignorance. They do not know what they desire. So their lusts exist in an undefined limbo, for ever in potentia.
They yearn passionately after the most deplorable depravity but possess not the concrete notion of so much as a simple fetish, their tormented flesh betrayed eternally by the poverty of their imaginations and the limitations of their vocabulary […].”
“The modest maiden in 19th century art” - link
This brief paper takes a look at what it refers to as the “modest maiden” trope in art, particularly paintings. Visions of serene young women, gracefully lounging around, reading or sleeping. The writing quickly examines a handful of works within this artistic trope, looking at some of the core facets and influences that underpin the appeal, and its underlying melancholy. The peacefulness of the scenes depicted here serve- whether consciously or unconsciously- to stir up some sense of anxiety in the viewer, a feeling of impending doom which is amplified in the related “death and the maiden” trope.
“With her upraised arms and ecstatic expression, [Millais’ Ophelia] seems to receive death like a lover. […] So to the suppressed sexuality and organic fecundity we must add another association: death”
II. Mythical maidens meet their end
This month’s topic of “death and the maiden” is, in many ways, is an amalgamation of all the previous editions of this newsletter so far; August saw a discussion of Romeo and Juliet, and the many personifications of death in the play. September featured a brief look at fairytales and Angela Carter. And now, we’ve arrived at the heart of these topics, the actual personified embodiment of the intersection of love and violence.
“[...] Shall I believe that unsubstantial death is amorous, and that the lean abhorrèd monster keeps thee here in the dark to be his paramour?"
V.3 Romeo, “Romeo and Juliet”, William Shakespeare (1597)
There is truly a near-infinite amount of things to say about the “death and the maiden” trope. In many ways, it’s the classic fairytale dynamic of the “beauty and the beast” in a cloak, holding a scythe instead of a rose. It’s a continuation of the 18th and 19th century obsession with the fair maiden, intertwining with the popular “danse macabre” allegory from the Middle Ages, in which a personification of death is depicted with living representatives, presumably to follow him to the grave.
If we look into the sun, if we squint a bit, where else can we see death and the maiden? When I think “death and the maiden”, I think of all the vampire stories I know, in which young girls often end up with frightful monsters, personifications of death. I think of Frankenstein: the scene in which the monster kills Elizabeth, which echoes Henry Fuseli’s painting “the Nightmare”;
“She was there, lifeless and inanimate, thrown across the bed, her head hanging down, and her pale and distorted features half covered by her hair. Every where I turn I see the same figure- her bloodless arms and relaxed form flung by the murderer on its bridal bier. […] a handkerchief thrown across her face and neck, I might have supposed her asleep.” (p. 199)
Frankenstein’s wedding here links directly to Elizabeth’s untimely death, as it also did so for several female monarchs throughout history (think: Lady Jane Grey, Mary Stuart, Anne Boleyn). Death and weddings have other associations as well; in classical Athens, girls who died unmarried would be buried as “brides of Hades”. They were symbolically married to the king of the underworld. Their often tragic deaths were rewritten to instead be proof of their descent into the underworld to marry the god of death himself, Hades.


But there are also, of course, actual historical examples that echo a societal fascination with tragic maidens, and death. For example, there’s the famous photograph of Evelyn McHale’s suicide jumping off of the Empire State Building, a photograph which has earned the event the moniker of the “most beautiful suicide”1. Or “L’inconnue de la Seine”, the young woman found dead in the river Seine, whose serene beauty so struck the coroner handling her body that he made a death mask to preserve her features, which then spread to other artists, and across literature. This morbid death mask went on to become the mould for the faces of CPR dolls, often referenced as “the most kissed face” of all time.
So why does the maiden strike our fancy so, whether she is dead, or attached to death? Does the former strike us because we are easily engrossed by tragedy? Does the latter strike us because the average, virtuous maiden is a stand-in for ourselves, like in modern Y/N fan-fiction? Does it strike us because it is dangerous, exciting? In many ways, stories of extremes have always fascinated us, and if nothing else, who doesn’t love a story with an edge to it? The juxtaposition of innocence, life, and youth, with cold, harsh death. It’s a trope that repeats throughout our boundless imagination, tiled like a hypnotising pattern, and one that we will most likely continue to be enamoured by. I know I will be.
III. Staying out, staying in
Honouring the darkening of seasons, the final section of this newsletter will be dedicated to recommending a handful of films that are perfect for the early onset autumnal melancholy some of you are no doubt beginning to experience. As the sun sets earlier, and the weather gets gloomier with every passing day, what better way to retire for the evening than by lighting some candles, having a drink, and indulging in some delightfully dark entertainment? Personally, I’ve always believed that the best way to live with the seasons is to fully live with them. When it gets darker, shelter yourself well. Bundle up, take the time to relish the change in atmosphere, and take a page out of Camus’ book, who wrote that “In the midst of winter, [he] found there was, within [himself], an invincible summer”.
But first, that drink.
This is another one of those things that came to me in a dream (I’m sensing a theme here) and has since stuck around. I won’t burden you with the exact details of my dream endeavours this time around. All you need to know is that in this dream, I owned a fantastical nightclub, and most importantly, there was a secret signature drink not on the menu. It had to be specifically requested by the clientele. What was this drink, you ask? It was a “spiced pear martini”.
Now, imagine my delight when, awake, I find a recipe for a “spiced pear mojito” much like how I imagined the drink from my dream to be, and taste. Since then I’ve taken it upon myself to finetune the recipe for what is now my new signature drink. While Oscar Wilde might have loved gatekeeping (“I have grown to love secrecy. It seems to be the one thing that can make modern life mysterious or marvelous to us. The commonest thing is delightful if only one hides it.”), I simply cannot do the same, and so, for your eyes only, here’s the recipe as I enjoy it, which you can adapt as you see fit;
[Optional] sugar rim the glass, and/or add a squeeze of fresh lime juice
2x 1.5fl oz of pear-flavoured vodka (Absolut Pears)
2x teaspoons of cinnamon syrup (I use Monin), mix in with a spoon
4x 1.5fl oz of apple and pear juice. If that’s unavailable, substituting for apple juice works just as well.
[Optional] add ice and/or fresh mint to garnish


What to watch.
Now as for the recommendations, it goes without saying (writing? typing?) that all of these recommendations are suitably Gothic-tinted, Romantic, and whimsical, because that’s the way things work over here at the White Lily Society. Everything is about the intersection of love and violence, always. Don’t expect otherwise, my dear.
“Gothic” (1986)
Dazzlingly outrageous and visually stunning, this film has all of Ken Russell’s trademark excess. The plot itself is quite scarce: the Shelleys (Mary, Percy and Claire Clairemont) visit Lord Byron at his house in Geneva, Villa Diodati, leading to the horror story writing contest that gave us some of classic fiction’s most formative works. The film describes itself as telling the story of “the birth of Frankenstein”, but it’s more a mood piece than anything. The nightmarish visions, odd tensions, and overload of Gothic tropes make it a highly enjoyable one though, and definitely one of my favourites of the year so far.


“Matthew Bourne’s Sleeping Beauty: a Gothic Romance” (2013) - link
This adaptation of the classic fairytale definitely has a way of keeping the audience on its feet. Combining puppets, vampires, and several styles of dance (most of it is lyrical dance, though it’s categorised as a ballet), this is a thoroughly entertaining watch that almost seems to have a bit of Angela Carter’s hand in its visual form. Aurora’s red ribbon choker for her wedding to Caradoc comes across as a near-direct reference to the ruby choker from “the Bloody Chamber”. Either way, this play is a great combination of whimsical and accessible, perfect for a stormy night in.
“Stoker” (2013)
“I'm not formed by things that are of myself alone”, protagonist India Stoker (portrayed by Mia Wasikowska) tells us in this thriller’s first introductory scenes. And the same goes for the film itself; as a loose adaptation of Hitchcock’s “Shadow of a Doubt” (1943) it pulls more from the Gothic canon and coming-of-age movies, as well as the atmospheric and tense psychological thrillers from days past. Most importantly though, this film is so blatantly all about death and desire, it prompted an entirely dedicated article from MUBI. I think that says more than enough, doesn’t it?
So, here we are at the end again, and this newsletter is once more approaching the email length limit with a near-voracious speed, thus I will have to lay down my metaphorical pen ASAP. The personal update section of this newsletter went in favour of drinks and movie recommendations, so I will attempt to sum up my September; I turned 22 (virgo baby!) and of course had my suitably dramatic Gothic-inspired string of birthday celebrations to boot. As always, I want to thank you for your interest in the White Lily Society, which turns one on the 26th! So, you can expect some celebratory events around that time. Now, I wish for you to have an appropriately haunting October, with as much eeriness as your little heart desires. Until my next letter,
x Sabrina Angelina, the White Lily Society
Currently reading: “Death comes to the Maiden: Sex and Execution 1431-1933” // Most recent read: “the Inferno” by Dante Alighieri
White Lily Society links // Sabrina Angelina links
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I’ve chosen not to include the picture because McHale herself wrote in her suicide note that “[I] don’t want anyone in or out of my family to see any part of me”, which is a wish I intended to honour within this post.