Dance of Death, also variously called Danse Macabre (French), Danza de la Muerte (Spanish), Danza Macabra (Italian), Dança da Morte (Portuguese), Totentanz (German), Dodendans (Dutch), Surmatants (Estonian), Dansa de la Mort (Catalan) is an artistic genre of late-medieval allegory on the universality of death: no matter one’s station in life, the Dance of Death unites all. The Danse Macabre consists of the dead or personified Death summoning representatives from all walks of life to dance along to the grave, typically with a pope, emperor, king, child, and labourer. They were produced to remind people of the fragility of their lives and how vain were the glories of earthly life. Its origins are postulated from illustrated sermon texts; the earliest recorded visual scheme was aa now lost mural in the Saints Innocents Cemetery in Paris dating from 1424-25. :::
These are things that are not right.
And that’s why they are oh so very perfect.
They are never a good thing.
Too many teeth you know.
Things in jars.
I marvel at the mind that thought to shove something in a jar and put it on a shelf.
It’s so….hands on…
because they leave one with the urge to put something into them-
So when I was a little kid, I named all of my dolls and stuffed animals after the characters on the TV show “ Dark Shadows”
I used to make up little stories about my dolls and animals and they really did take on a life of their own.
And by far- the most dark and wicked of them all was my stuffed Snoopy Dog with a broken neck- he was named Barnabas and of course because he was one of the undead and bad- really bad. Snoopy aka Barnabas managed to escape from my room every night and he ended up on my sister’s bed or in my brother’s sock drawer or on my Dad’s chest when he woke up in the morning and once he even made a surprise appearance at a funeral and he ended up on coffin in the chapel just as the family arrived for the service
That one cost me, I lost him for a weeks after that one.
And yes, as a matter of fact…it was worth it.
I had years and years of fun with my toys and looking back on it now, I can see how those games fed the imagination that would shape me as a writer.
The downside. Well. It took me a while to see that there was one because there wasn’t a down side for me.
It turned out my rich imagination was a down side for my sister.
My sister- for years we teased that poor woman about this unnatural fear she had about her Baby Alive doll. She was convinced that it wanted to kill her.
In my defense I told anyone who would listen that I had nothing to do with that notion.
Ask my headless dolls and my Snoopy with the broken neck what they thought about ” Baby Alive “
That doll was wrong…very, very, very