To finish Angela Carter’s extraordinary new novel is like waking from a dream and crying out ‘But I remember it all. It was so vivid! It seemed to make sense at the time!’ And indeed it does, in a sense, make sense. It has its own internal logic supported by continuously recurring themes and imagery. It has the intensity of a dream which haunts you all the following day (the lurking tigers and flying women are sufficiently archetypal to make all schools of analysis happy).

Subscribe or Sign In to read the full article