/lit/ - Literature

>>1434257

Excuse me, what's this?

Byron swam across the Hellespont, so did I.

Maybe Manfred, that was Nietzsche's too.

If death were a stage in the evolution of perception then all the perspicacious would die young. This, obviously, isn't the case (though one might be tempted to point to a few romantic poets who 'transcended' all too early).

I'm thinking of planning a trip down to Lord Byron's ancestral home, Newstead Abbey. By my estimations, the trip will cost around £70-£100 (travelling by train, and latterly, bus), which would otherwise be spent on books. Simply, what's a more meaningful outlet for my hard-earned pounds, a trip to the bookstore or a trip to Nottingham?

It's eight days till Halloween, /lit/. What say we replicate those dear romantics at Lake Geneva and have ourselves a horror writing contest?

Prose before hoes, man.

Lord Byron, naturally. Also, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Percey Shelley and Keats.

And he might just have been about to find the substance he needed to overcome his melancholy...

Byron up in this motherfucker

Waht should a writer experience? I know some of you will probably say that fiction is about making shit up, or that if I am not a good writer now, experience won't turn me in to a better one. But let's leave that shit be and discuss. Have you ever got out of your comfort zone to help your writing? Or maybe not with that goal in mind, but it still helped you? Near death experiences? Wold you want to finally try something new?
Share stories, reflections, doubts, whatever.

Missolonghi, February 23, 1824

My dearest Augusta,
[.....]
I have been obtaining the release of about nine and twenty Turkish prisoners-men, women, and children, and have sent them at my own expense home to their friends, but one a pretty little girl of nine years of age named Hato or Hatagee, has expressed a strong wish to remain with me, or under my care, and I have nearly determined to adopt her. If I thought that Lady B. would let her come to England as a Companion to Ada--(they are about the same age), we could easily provide for her; if not, I can send her to Italy for education. she is very lively and quick, and with great black oriental eyes, and Asiatic features. All her brothers were killed in the Revoulution; her mother wishes to return to her husband who is at Prevesa, but says that she would rather entrust the child to me in the present state of the Country. her extreme youth and sex have hitherto saved her life, but there is no saying what might occur in the course of the war (and of such a war), and I shall probably commit her to the charge of some English lady in the islands for the present. The Child herself has the same wish, and seems to have a decided character for her age. You can mention this matter if you think it worth while. I merely wish her to be respectably educated and treated, and, if my years and all things be considered, I presume, it would be difficult to conceive me to have any other views.
[...]

Byron

I want to be a real person worthy of insane legends and bedtime tales

Lord Byron...

Because I'll stick my dick in anything.