I wish I liked this more. It took me three attempts before I just bore down and forced my way through it. Carter's language is rich, florid, and impressive (even if I feel like she's a little too in love with alliteration and some other literary devices). And I fully understand this is like the first modern re-imagining of a lot of fairy tales. But...it kind of just feels like I'm back reading my classics of western (british) lit as an English major. This feels, and I don't mean this in a good way, like any number of other victorian romantic or erotic writers. Is it even erotic? I guess? In the very heavily veiled in indirect way that a bunch of victorian lit is? Is it disturbing? Sort of? I'm so lost in dense language most of the time that the real impact of horror or eroticism is kind of lost in the words.
Part of me imagines it would be better read to me, rather than read by me. Part of me also imagines that, despite this being one Carter's more popular books, that her longer form novel work would probably be a great deal more enjoyable than the short fiction. The through line and structure of plot would go a long way towards supporting the weight of her language and imagery. I think maybe that's where these really fail for me...they can't support it, and they also seem to lack the allegorical lessons that normally give form and structure to fairy tales.