This inventive, often-hilarious, and sometimes-heartbreaking collection of stories explores pivotal moments and events in the lives of a range of villains from literature and mythology–among them, Captain James Hook of Peter Pan, Claudius of Hamlet, and Mrs. Danvers of Rebecca. The stories consider the full emotional and motivational scope of these characters, often illuminating the personal histories and tragedies that may have engendered their villainy, or, with time, sparked a desire to turn over a new leaf. The result is a nuanced and emotionally engaging immersion in the at-times-fantastical, yet eerily plausible, worlds of the stories. (The book is the winner of the 2020 Press 53 Award for Short Fiction. This press regularly publishes fine collections of short stories and poetry.)
“Never, Never” takes up the case of Captain Hook, who has traded life as a “ruthless pirate” for a civil-service job at a post office and a happy marriage. In one really funny passage (and there are lots of them in this book), the narrator observes how Hook has made it possible for his wife to say goodbye to “dishpan hands”: “he took over any household chore that involved splashing around in water. He would hang a lathered sponge from his hook and power through a sink full of greasy pots and pans in no time.”
The reason Hook left behind his life at sea, and his villainy? A change of heart, basically. Although he once sought revenge against the person who severed his hand and fed it to a crocodile–Peter Pan, by Hook’s report–he has come to see that mission as “a waste of time and energy.” Instead, he has sought to make a fresh start.
For Hook, one barrier to full-on bliss is his stepson (named Peter, of all things), who resents Hook’s presence and seems almost as intent on not growing up as Peter Pan. The stepson has no interest in respecting the wishes of his mother and Hook, by going to college or following Hook into civil service. Instead, he hears the call of the sea, much to the dismay of his stepfather, who has come to believe, the hard way, that a far better life can be found on land. In the manner of a rebellious, thrill-seeking youth, Peter eventually becomes a pirate, creating what might be a permanent rift between himself and Hook. Then, a turn of events brings him back to Hook and his mom, and delivers a moment of recognition: Peter realizes that his and Hook’s experiences at sea have forged an unexpected connection between the two of them. In one moving passage, Hook says to him:
“Ye smell like the briny deep.” He pulled in a rattling breath. “Don’t tell yer ma, but sometimes, I miss her still.”
Like many other stories in the collection, this one brings nuance and complexity to situations, characters, and relationships that the original tales sometimes treat in more black-and-white terms. In a similar vein, the line between good and evil is often faint in the stories, and at times, it barely seems to exist. This opens things up to the unexpected and makes for a more satisfying, authentic-feeling, and illuminating reading experience.
The most sweeping story in the collection, “The Tragedie of Claudius, Prince of Denmark,” gets at the origins and consequences of villainy, across generations. Told from the point of view of the Shakespeare-play Hamlet’s Uncle Claudius, it begins long before Hamlet’s birth, when Claudius and his brother, Hamlet Sr., are faced with unsettling new behavior by their father, the King of Denmark. The King has ordered that “a plentiful supply of fowl” always be on hand in the kingdom, believing that the creatures’ eggs contain “the reborn souls of those whose lives he’d stolen,” directly or indirectly. “If I keep them safe and warm,” the King tells his sons, “they will hatch. I will beg their forgiveness and raise them to relive their purloined lives!”
To Hamlet Sr., the King’s new mission is pure madness. But Claudius feels some sympathy for his father, and, privately, he considers how he’s detected human forms among the birds, and also the anger of the aggrieved in some of their eyes. In time, though, Hamlet Sr. convinces Claudius that in the best interests of the kingdom, the two of them should poison their father. Upon the King’s murder, Hamlet Sr. assumes the throne and promptly bans all fowl from the kingdom, killing the existing birds and shattering their eggs.
Of course, these developments don’t deliver a happy outcome, and eventually, Hamlet Sr. experiences his own seeming descent into madness, of a blood-thirsty nature. Here and throughout, the story sets up intriguing tensions between the desire to perpetuate life (which Claudius tries to uphold, not unfailingly, after his father’s death) and the impulse to destroy it, a drive that seems most pronounced in Hamlet Sr. Unfortunately, in the way of most tragedies, life, and goodness, are on the losing side of the equation, something that the not-purely-villainous Claudius becomes all too aware of.
Eventually, the story brings us to Hamlet Jr.’s time, when Claudius, through fresh treachery, replaces Hamlet Sr. as king. Ultimately, the tragic events known to viewers or readers of Shakespeare’s play unfold, enhanced by a troubling set of consequences–in fowl-like form–that seem to rise up from the dead and promise to haunt the living. In fact, the fowl–and everything their presence suggests about murder, guilt, and vengeance–haunt the entire story, giving new resonance to Shakespeare’s Hamlet, and especially to the play’s ending.
One of my favorite tales in the collection, “Penny Dreadful,” presents another origin story, that of Mrs. Danvers from Rebecca. We learn of her being bullied as a young orphan, something that makes her adept at the art of “subtle revenge.” In time, she becomes the caretaker of a wealthy widower’s daughter, Rebecca, who “bewitches all who cross her path,” Mrs. Danvers (a.k.a., Danny) included. From here, the relationship between Danny and Rebecca progresses from a friendship to a (most likely one-sided) love story. At one point, Danny reflects:
As those who’ve read the novel Rebecca already know, Danny’s devotion to Rebecca continues through Rebecca’s marriage to Maxim de Winter, and long beyond the time of Rebecca’s mysterious death. When the second Mrs. de Winter arrives on the scene, Danny observes, “Think always of your lady, and how this pretender is trying to take her place.” Still, she feels some pity for and connection with the new wife, even as she tries to eliminate her.
And the moving and beautifully written final passages of this story make it difficult to hold onto the common perception that Mrs. Danvers is purely evil and unworthy of sympathy. As her dead mistress’s bedroom burns around her, she reclines on the bed and thinks:
I’ll never see Mrs. Danvers, or the novel Rebecca, in quite the same way, and the new perspectives on this popular villain, and on the larger story, make both more haunting for me.
A final word: I also highly recommend another story collection by Jen Fawkes, Mannequin and Wife, which writer Clare Beams called “magical in every sense of the word.” Check out this link for more information.
Would My Pick be Your Pick?
If you're interested in ________, the answer may be "Yes":￭ Fantastical or surreal stories
￭ Fairy tales or myths
￭ Villains and/or villainy
￭ Fresh takes on literary classics
