When the Autodidact in the Attic was small, she became acquainted with another little girl named Anhedonia who would visit for long stretches of time and occupy all of the Autodidact’s attention. Anhedonia was quite distracting. Nothing seemed very important when she’s around.

The two girls spent an inordinate amount of time together as children and teens and even into their twenties. Then they grew apart to some extent. Though Anhedonia never goes away for too very long, these days she usually only returns for day visits every now and again.

But recently, she arrived out of nowhere-as is her wont-and has settled in. And she’s one of those guests who, when she’s around, you simply can’t do anything with. She’s uninterested in going anywhere or doing anything except spending time with you. And she reminds you that, ultimately, everything is an exercise in futility so there’s really no reason to do anything in the first place.

If you ask me, Anhedonia needs to cut back on the Existentialists.

I mentioned that once and she just quoted Macbeth at me.

I don’t have any photos of her-she’s incredibly shy-but here are some approximations of what she’s looked like over the years.

We first became acquainted when I was 8 or so and she would have looked something like this:

(The little girl from The Colors of Evil. )

Then, she grew up a bit and looked like Wednesday.

You know who’s next, right?

Now that we’re adults she looks more like Death in Mortys than Morticia, oddly. Very tall and thin and pale. Tilda Swinton with long black hair, really.

In all seriousness, anhedonia is ‘the inability to experience pleasure from activities usually found enjoyable’.

I’ve always thought it sounded like one of the Addams family cousins, though.

She’s been visiting so I’m dealing with her at the moment.

Regular posts will resume this Friday with a book review of a Gothic story for children. Or a story for Gothic children.

See you then.