I have always been a fan of sister stories, the fates, the furies, MacBeth’s weird witches. And since Disney stole my Norse goddess-sister theme from under my nose (thanks a lot Frozen) I am now embroiled in a sister saga that takes place in the very stark location — the desert Southwest.
Based loosely on the Daphne and Chloe myth (lost infants raised by wolves), my hippie-raised thirty or forty-somethings are not star-destined lovers, but sisters who have drifted apart. The younger, Chloe, has gone down to Georgia as an investigative reporter and is bringing up her own daughter as a single parent. The other sister, Daphne, who as a teenager was the bolder of the two, has in adulthood has fallen off the grid.
Always the investigator, Chloe goes in search of the lost older sis, but finds a trail so bizarre (wandering junkies, bike gang members and new age priests), it appears no one knew Daphne at all. She appears, in fact, to have staged her own death. A gravestone with her name on it sits, freshly laid, in a small town Indiana cemetery, and her husband believes fully that her death was legitimate.
But not so Chloe. She follows a lead to a yoga spa in Utah, and from there branches to Arizona, Texas and Nevada, discovering some strange, dangerous and otherworly phenomena that link the sisters together in new and complicated ways.
Mariella Mehr — Poet, Memoirist, Acivisit, Survivor Not many Roma divulge their experience of the Holocaust. Unlike the many Jewish organizations which provide documentary evidence, . . .