/lit/ - Literature

>>3767209
Fière, autant qu'un vivant, de sa noble stature,
Avec son gros bouquet, son mouchoir et ses gants,
Elle a la nonchalance et la désinvolture
D'une coquette maigre aux airs extravagants.

Vit-on jamais au bal une taille plus mince?
Sa robe exagérée, en sa royale ampleur,
S'écroule abondamment sur un pied sec que pince
Un soulier pomponné, joli comme une fleur.

La ruche qui se joue au bord des clavicules,
Comme un ruisseau lascif qui se frotte au rocher,
Défend pudiquement des lazzi ridicules
Les funèbres appas qu'elle tient à cacher.

Ses yeux profonds sont faits de vide et de ténèbres
Et son crâne, de fleurs artistement coiffé,
Oscille mollement sur ses frêles vertèbres.
--O charme d'un néant follement attifé!

>>3692098

that's why i cried. you don't know me, so you can't possibly verify; but it was one of the unique moments in my life where i saw my own self splayed across the open page in such a way that, briefly, i could feel something like this "human project" materialize in between the lines of another author. that she was there, long ago, the "woman writing," and i am here, now, reading--to see EXACTLY yourself...well, i don't know, but it was both terrifying and deeply moving for me.

if you want to know, i am an exact combination between rhoda and bernard. the way i think, the way i behave, the private soliloquies that churn over themselves in my mind: it was all there, for me to read and study and contemplate and understand. i am indebted to woolf on a level i cannot put into words.

the same is true of pessoa and wittgenstein, and that is why i listed his notebooks (book of disquiet) and on certainty