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Sep. 1st, 2008

underalilacmoon

(no subject)

Albertine, standing facing me and seeing that she had reached her destination, took a few steps from the back of the carriage where we were and opened the door. But the movement that she thus performed in order to alight tore unbearably at my heart as if, contrary to the position that Albertine's body, independently of my own, seemed to be occupying a short step away, this separation in space, which a truthful draughtsman would have been obliged to represent between us, was only an appearance, and as if whoever might have wanted, in accordance with the true reality, to re-draw things would have now had to place Albertine, not at some little distance from me, but inside me.

~Marcel Proust, In Search of Lost Time

Aug. 21st, 2008

underalilacmoon

Loving in Truth.

Loving in truth, and fain in verse my love to show,
That she, dear she, might take some pleasure of my pain:
Pleasure might cause her read, reading might make her know,
Knowledge might pity win, and pity grace obtain,
I sought fit words to paint the blackest face of woe,
Studying inventions fine, her wits to entertain:
Oft turning others' leaves to see if thence would flow
Some fresh and fruitful showers upon my sun-burn'd brain.
But words came halting forth, wanting Invention's stay,
Invention, Nature's child, fled step-dame Study's blows,
And others' feet still seem'd but strangers in my way.
Thus great with child to speak, and helpless in my throes,
Biting my trewand pen, beating myself for spite,
Fool, said my Muse to me, look in thy heart and write.


~ Sir Philip Sydney, from Astrophil and Stella
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Aug. 19th, 2008

underalilacmoon

She was raised on a pedestral of poetry

Just to bring a bit of something-something else. This one's by Anais Nin, from her erotic short story "Mathilde" in Delta of Venus. Some sensuous and strange things are always going on there...

Mathilde was a hat maker in Paris and barely twenty when she was seduced by the Baron.Collapse )
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underalilacmoon

My affections and wishes are unchanged.

To begin with one of the greatest love stories of all time.


But this idea was soon banished, and her spirits were very differently affected, when, to her utter amazement, she saw Mr. Darcy walk into the room. In an hurried manner he immediately began an enquiry after her health, imputing his visit to a wish of hearing that she were better. She answered him with cold civility. He sat down for a few moments, and then getting up walked about the room. Elizabeth was surprised, but said not a word. After a silence of several minutes he came towards her in an agitated manner, and thus began,

"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."



I don't remember the first true love story I ever read. There was Little Women in junior high (I was on Team Amy)--perhaps it was Anne and Gilbert in the Anne of Green Gables books. I don't remember them making my heart pound though, not like the time I peeked into the "adult" romance novels (um actually christian historical romances!) as a teenager. I remember being intrigued but also rather unimpressed with a friend's Harlequin. And then at twenty I met a girl besotted with Mr. Darcy. I thought he was a giant jerk the first time I read the lines above. But that book of pride and prejudice and how love conquered over both, has stayed with me. As have the rest of Jane Austen's novels, and indeed, the literary works of love, sex and romance I've found since. They have staying power. You don't need a new one a week because they are lasting, these stories we become so passionately attached to. As the Brontes were, living more in their imaginations than in the real world. Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Anna Karenina, these are books still on top 100 lists and they are unabashedly romantic, about the trials and treasures and illusions of love. About the dark moments of intimacy as well as the light and witty and tender. These are books I believe we can all learn something from.

Any kind of literary love sex and romance goes here. I take an interest in adultery, general naughtiness, hot sex, incest, women willing to murder for love, the abusive cases, when a love is unrequited, addictive, obsessive. All that plus true love from the heart. Or even nonlove with sex. It's all there, you've experienced or perhaps better yet (?) you've read about it. Or you're about to.

That is what I hope will happen here. If I've inspired you and you have some of your own literary hot stuff you'd like to share, just lay down a line here and let me know what it is. You're desperately crushing on your own Mr. Darcy (or Humbert Humbert)? This is the place, my friend. Relax, fan yourself.

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