Carol Goodman
Carol Goodman is the author of The Lake of Dead Languages, The Seduction of Water, which won the Hammett Prize, The Widow's House, which won the Mary Higgins Clark Award and The Night Visitors, which won the Mary Higgins Clark Award. She is also the co-author, with her husband Lee Slonimsky, of the Watchtower fantasy trilogy. Her work has appeared in such journals as The Greensboro Review, Literal Latte, The Midwest Quarterly, and Other Voices. After graduation from Vassar College, where she majored in Latin, she taught Latin for several years in Austin, Texas. She then received an M.F.A. in fiction from the New School University. Goodman currently teaches literature and writing at The New School and SUNY New Paltz and lives with her family in the Hudson Valley.
“You told me trees could speak and the only reason one heard silence in the forestwas that they had all been born knowing different languages.That night I went into the forestto bury dictionaries under roots,so many books in so many tonguesas to insure speech.and now this very moment,the forest seems alivewith whispers and murmurs and rumblings of soundwind-rushed into my ears.I do not speak any languagethat crosses the silence around mebut how soothing to knowthat the yearning and grasping embodiedin trees’ convoluted and startling shapesis finally being fulfilledin their wind shouts to each other.Yet we who both speak Englishand have since we were bornare moving ever farther aparteven as branch tips touch.”
“ I am glad when we enter the conference room that Chihiro made sure I wasn’t late to the meeting. Not only does my appearance cut short several whispered confabs in the corners of the room (confirming her suspicion that people would have used my lateness as a chance to talk about me), but I also get to take my favorite seat: at the far end of the table next to my favorite monkey. I’ve never quite understood how the monkeys got here. The fresco on the ceiling of this room –originally the formal dining room- is modeled on the one in the formal dining room at La Civetta. It depicts a lemon-covered pergola in a garden. An assortment of birds –doves, sparrows, and long-tailed peacocks – roost on the wooden struts. In the original fresco, fat cupids also frolic amidst the greenery, their chubby feet dangling precariously from their perches. In one corner a plaster foot even protrudes from the frescoed surface. In this New York version of the fresco, there are monkeys instead of cupids: monkeys peering out between leafy branches and monkeys dangling by their tails from the wooden slats of the pergola. If you look carefully (and I have had ample opportunity through long and tedious budget reviews to examine every inch of the palatial room), you can even find a few monkeys that have climbed down from the pergola and found their way into the formal dining room to perform rude and unspeakable acts... My favorite monkey, though, is the little one who peers out from behind the leafy fronds of an aspidistra, making an obscene gesture I have seen only on the streets of Italy. I always sit right next to him. He gives me some relief for the sentiments I am unable to express in the course of department meetings.”
“Which of us can say what the gods hold wicked?”