I am indebted to Joseph Cornell because it was because of him that I was finally able to choose the name for my first novel.
It was in Venice at the Peggy Guggenheim Collection when I saw one of his creations, "Swiss Shoot the Chutes" (1941). Fascinated, I stood in front of this box inspired by the penny arcades and pinball machines Cornell had loved as a boy. My eye was first drawn to the lithograph of a ballerina, then to the image below it of the wolf and Little Red Riding Hood. It was only later that I noticed the yellowed words pasted into another peephole: Hôtel de l'Ange. Angel Hotel. I don't know why, but the box conveyed a sense of loneliness and yearning. Coldness. Snow. I realised I had finally hit upon my title (with the addition of one more word), one that incorporated the name of a hotel that seemed to hold such happiness and promise. Not.
It was in Venice at the Peggy Guggenheim Collection when I saw one of his creations, "Swiss Shoot the Chutes" (1941). Fascinated, I stood in front of this box inspired by the penny arcades and pinball machines Cornell had loved as a boy. My eye was first drawn to the lithograph of a ballerina, then to the image below it of the wolf and Little Red Riding Hood. It was only later that I noticed the yellowed words pasted into another peephole: Hôtel de l'Ange. Angel Hotel. I don't know why, but the box conveyed a sense of loneliness and yearning. Coldness. Snow. I realised I had finally hit upon my title (with the addition of one more word), one that incorporated the name of a hotel that seemed to hold such happiness and promise. Not.
Stay turned . . .
No comments:
Post a Comment