On The Decadent Bestiary, Ed. By Sam Kunkel and Jessica Gossling
(Strange Attractor, 2025)
Strange Attractor subtract from the common air, magic essence,
Spreading it across pages, from an unfinished Alan Moore text
And film script, to Mark E. Smith, Baudelaire, and in this book
A veritable word zoo of others, as this Be(a)stiary burns just
Like Borges’ or Eco’s imaginary beings, replacing them
With the real ones, so that we as readers can in some small way
Predict the precise future of care, as curated by Kunkel and Gossling,
Inverted often by humans and the decadent strain which informs
All of the writings within. Decadence: ‘to move off, away, or to fall,’
Or deteriorate into pleasure, a uniquely human condition to which
Animals can’t conform. ‘Decadence is the language of distance’
They state. An enlivening idea and a true one. And so through
These explorations, through feather and fur, wing and claw
We enliven two worlds each casting light and shade on the other;
From Baudelaire’s cat to Huyman’s carpet matching tortoise,
The kept pet is touchstone through miniature flesh and much more:
Our need for excess and an abundance of comfort, our ache
For indulgence makes talismans of each pet; as if purity
Could be kept under shells or in the flecks of spit on a whisker,
Or the mewl, purr and grumble of the language-stripped,
Who speak yet. Animals mirror us as explained by Kunkel and
Gossling’s excellent introduction and the book becomes as they
Do so something akin to a spell as each carefully chosen entry
Contains the magic made by these creatures. The Witch’s cat
Sees our broomstick but does not need to jump on. It knows well.
In short their presence for us promises all of our lost potential.
The nodding dog knows it. And the puss is still pointing deep into
Your soul with its stare. Egging you on, while we feed it God knows
What: tins of tumour. And yet still they allow us to go about our lives.
Their deaths glare. For when we lose them we lack some deeper
Connection. Each story or poem here shows this. From Hugo’s
To Androcles’ Lion, and Lovecraft’s The Hound hearts are struck
By talon and paw, while keeping a cool close eye on the dangers,
As in Crowley’s With Dog and Dame, or Olive Custance’s mood
Poem on peacocks, whose magic stare brings misfortune
Should fear and fate come to pluck. This book is a free forest
From which the true view befits the animals angle. Each author
Gives verse to the voiceless, from Maupassant to Mallarme,
From Emily Pfeiffer’s Moth, to Jules Renard’s darkness borne
Tale for bats. And each tale demonstrates the tiny majesties
We walk over, crushing at will an ant’s kingdom or missing
The magus who is slowly stenching out from a cat.
This is a remarkable book, hot in the hand from the horrors
That we inflect and run scared of, as at any time a pet bites,
Just to remind you who rules the domestic dare to what’s
Settled. As you immerse yourself in what’s written the strange
Attraction continues and each familiar flame reignites.
Wallace Shawn has a play, Grasses of a Thousand Colours
I thought of, when reading these tales of enchantment,
Which, through the glade cast broken branch light and day dark
The main character’s fantasy runs to a forest found feline orgy.
There is nothing here quite as graphic, but in these entries
That otherworld finds its mark between both everyday doing
And dream, as witnessed by Yeats’ Coole swans,
Or Baudelaire’s owls blinking wisdom. Rosamund Marriot
Watson’s Ballad of the Bird-Bride defines this, as wherever
‘Their wild wings go’ they are hers. And yet Rachilde’s story
The Frog Killer is here. I thought of Philip Ridley’s
The Reflecting Skin as I read it. There is Algernon Blackwood’s
Golden fly murder with nature’s lesson attached to soul spur.
There are spider studies, bee-blaze and a Japanese Soldier-
Farmer’s garden, populated by insects who could be astral
Engineers. This then is a catalogue and chorale of secular song
And strange singing; one whose dense music is beyond our
Minds and mouths, not our ears. Animals teach us how to be.
They taught us I believe about movement. Observe the two
Stage stance of the squirrel, the thrust of a fly, the dog’s beat
And we know what it is to live with the world as opposed
To intrusion. And so this special Bestiary bests us. The human race
Strives and still stumbles. And the wing-won air energises.
The hare grins across distance, and then turns to the tortoise.
The tortoise blinks tired. It knows what it truly means to compete.
Strange Attractor once more have proved themselves more than
Worthy. Their catalogue is eclectic. Each monologue educates.
And so you too must be drawn to the dogologues barking at you.
The Owlologues open what the Birdalogues elevate. Each book
Speaks to you with and without a known language. But there is
No code here, no caution. Just dare and delusion, delight
And nature’s own Magistrate, judging you in your place.
Read this book. Live your sentence. And then imagine your own
Cat reading with you. Its paw turns the page. Compensate.
David Erdos 28/10/25
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