isle of demons

mirages and mini poems

Aug 09, 2022

“Earth isn’t just a blank sheet for the projection of human desire.”

That’s something philosopher Tim Morton wrote in his book, Dark Ecology. I like it as an opening line to this week’s newsletter, which I’m writing about phantom islands — islands written on to maps, only to be proven that they don’t exist. Which is basically the opposite of the quote above — showing that we as humans, really wanna project our desires on to the planet. Sometimes legends, sometimes mirages, sometimes just volcanic pumice, phantom islands are un-real places which were desired into existence. They are both places and projections.

Here are three mini-poems, which detail three phantom islands.

Isle of Demons

let me take you to

a salt-stained beach

that floats like an omen

over the open water

where the rocks are black

and wet like sleeping seals

where fallen stars with faded eyes burn

through the mist like wailing lighthouses

Isle of Demons was a phantom island off the coast of Newfoundland. Said to have perhaps been a remnant of First Nations’ folklore, this island was haunted by demons that would swirl in the Labrador mists. People have thought that the wailing of demons was actually just the sound of a seagull colony, which, if you’re from a UK seaside town, is pretty much the same thing.

Thule

let me take you to

the thunderclouded grass

where the air arches

and touches the edge of colour

little ultima

i gave its name to comets

like light dying out at the end of the bend

iridescence plunged into the ocean

Greek explorers and Roman historians wrote about Thule, said it was an island which was perhaps north of Britain, some claimed it was a six-day sail. Orkney, Shetland, Norway’s Smøla, and Iceland may have all been doppelgängers for Thule. There was also a myth attached to the island — it sat at the edge of the world, where the summer solstice made the nights bright as day, and any journey further North would plunge you into darkness. To go further than Thule was to go deep into the unknown. Ultima Thule became a metaphorical name for any place beyond the known world.

New South Greenland

let me take you to

a coordinate

that wavers like an ember

out the corner of your eye

a castle forged upon the snow

with mirrors in its halls

that rises and falls

with the twist of soft-spun sunlight

New South Greenland was ‘discovered’ near Antarctica, and documented by a Mr. Benjamin Morrell. He came across this island and noted down its location and sighting with little excitement. Years later as the Antarctic Ocean was explored, this mysterious island was nowhere to be found. Apart from the theory that Mr. Morrell was just inventing an island for the hell of it, some think that what he saw was a mirage — perhaps a Fata Morgana, which is a particular type of mirage which bends images on the horizon, sometimes even making objects look like they’re floating in the air.

three cruise ships off the coast of cyprus which are floooooattting woooooo ghoooosttsssssss or is it just SCIENCE

If you were to imagine an island, where would it be?

My phantom island would sit in the coal-grey heart of the North Sea, and its name is Arcus. Arcus seems to be on the brink of sinking at any time, the land feels so heavy. Its cliffs are basalt-black, and the arching rock above seems like it was hand-carved, oddly. It has the looming presence of a lost cathedral. This ominous air is undermined by several types of hardy wildflowers growing in soft bunches around the grass, shouting little purples, pinks and yellows into the wind.