/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.16907068]

Which author, in your opinion, articulates the aesthetics of women most beautifully?

[Anonymous No.16907076]

Boobaposters

[Anonymous No.16907480]

>>16907068
Thomas

[Anonymous No.16907481]

>>16907068
your mom

[Anonymous No.16907494]

Edmund Burke

[Anonymous No.16907498]

bukowski

[Anonymous No.16907502]

>>16907480
Hardy

[Anonymous No.16907513]

>>16907494
where does Burke discuss w*men?

[Anonymous No.16907525]

>>16907068
Schopenhauer :^)

[Anonymous No.16907533]

>>16907513
"A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful"

[Anonymous No.16907537]

>>16907068
Looks like my mom when she was young

[Anonymous No.16907603]

>>16907533
this book was published in the year England colonised India

[Anonymous No.16907627]

>>16907480
Pynchon

[Anonymous No.16907660]

>>16907533
thanks breh

[Anonymous No.16907703]

>>16907480
Aquinas

[Anonymous No.16907733]

>>16907533
Curious, what did you find this?

[Anonymous No.16907741]

>>16907733
how*

[Anonymous No.16907751]

>>16907068
I love her so much. Beautiful actress

[Anonymous No.16907760]

>>16907741
A university class, the professor cited it in a lecture on Romantic poetry.

[Anonymous No.16907773]

>>16907603
Not quite sure what to make of this post desu

>>16907660
Always glad to help, fren.

[Anonymous No.16907824]

OP's a fag. Get in here instead, bros.
>>16907813
>>16907813
>>16907813

[Anonymous No.16907852]

>>16907537
Post photo

[Anonymous No.16908243]

>>16907537
I thought so too but I have partial face blindness.

[Anonymous No.16908247]

>>16907068
H.P. Lovecraft, duh

[Anonymous No.16908254]

>>16907824
Based

[Anonymous No.16908258]

>>16907068
sade

[Anonymous No.16910122]

bump

[Anonymous No.16910132]

>>16907480
de Quincey

[Anonymous No.16910142]

>>16907068
>aesthetics of women
this is it, this proves men have no standards for women and will orbit even the nastiest whore ''because she's pretty'' for a few weeks.

men are destroying society

[Anonymous No.16910268]

>>16910142
Do not fault a piranha for his diet

[Anonymous No.16910339]

>>16910142
>not taking physiognomy into account

[Anonymous No.16910481]

>>16907068
Probably some porn sleaze author who died in the 80s that nobody remembers and has been out of print since the 70s. Point is, it’s all fantasy. How about instead of looking for an author who portrayed women most unrealistically, you look at writers who portrayed women with the most accuracy.

[Anonymous No.16910616]

>>16907502
>>16907627
>>16907703
>>16910132
poetry plebs

[Anonymous No.16910687]

nny Corleone, Lucy Mancini
Worst Line(s): "Her hand closed around an enormous, blood-gorged pole of muscle. It pulsated in her hand like an animal and almost weeping with grateful ecstasy she pointed it into her own wet, turgid flesh. The thrust of its entering, the unbelievable pleasure made her gasp, brought her legs up almost around his neck, and then like a quiver, her body received the savage arrows of his lighting-like thrusts.

[Anonymous No.16910723]

>>16907480
Mann

[Anonymous No.16911189]

>>16910687

[Anonymous No.16911269]

>>16907076
wtf, no love?
fpbp

[Anonymous No.16911375]

>>16907537
No, your moms bimbo sucky sucky lips were better, I'd know.

[Anonymous No.16912410]

>>16910142
>because she's pretty
What else matters?

>>16907068
Tolstoy. Can't believe nobody said this

[Anonymous No.16912437]

>>16910481
>look at writers who portrayed women with the most accuracy
You mean PUA and 'redpill' books right?

[Anonymous No.16912451]

>>16910687
Is this considered good writing or bad writing? If bad, why?

[Anonymous No.16912659]

>>16912437
Any book not written by a simp whose kidding himself will do.

[Anonymous No.16912782]

>>16907068
Murakami

[Anonymous No.16912805]

>>16907068
Milton

[Anonymous No.16913052]

>>16907068
Arthur Schopenhauer

[Anonymous No.16913068]

Sade desu

[Anonymous No.16913105]

>>16907525
The unaesthetic sex

[Anonymous No.16913148]

>>16907068
Mishima

[Anonymous No.16913180]

>>16913148
Which book?

[Anonymous No.16913227]

>>16907068
>>16910687
>Cassandra woke up to the rays of the sun streaming through the slats on her blinds, cascading over her naked chest. She stretched, her breasts lifting with her arms as she greeted the sun. She rolled out of bed and put on a shirt, her nipples prominently showing through the thin fabric. She breasted boobily to the stairs, and titted downwards.

[Anonymous No.16913449]

>>16913227
Where's this from

[Anonymous No.16913462]

>>16907824
You have to be literally blind find men prettier than women

[Anonymous No.16913492]

>>16907480
Becket

[Anonymous No.16913507]

>>16913462
same

[Anonymous No.16913519]

>>16913449
The text or the pic? Both are tumblr shit, but the pic had no source, I'd Google Reverse Image Search, but I'm using a browser that can't do that atm

[Anonymous No.16913553]

>>16913449
the iliad

[Anonymous No.16913576]

>>16907480
Talking about me?

[Anonymous No.16913669]

>>16907068
Here's two choice quotes

>And in the dawn a female simpleton is waking naked from a gang-fuck in the back seat of an abandoned car by the river. She stirs, sweet day has broken. Reeking of stale beer and dried sperm, eyes clogged, used rubbers dangling senselessly from the dashboard knobs

>She smiled and sipped from her glass. There was altogether too much of her sitting there, the broad expanse of thigh cradled in the insubstantial stocking and the garters with the pale flesh pursed and her full breasts and the sootblack piping of her eyelids, a gaudish rake of metaldust in prussian blue where cerulean moths fluttered her awake from some outlandish dream. Suttree gradually going awash in the sheer outrageous sentience of her. Their glasses clicked on the tabletop. Her hot spiced tongue fat in his mouth and her hands all over him like the very witch of fuck.

[Anonymous No.16913822]

>>16913669
Is the second one from a book?

[Anonymous No.16913849]

>>16913822
Ye they're both from Suttree.

[Anonymous No.16914333]

>>16913449
The pic is from prison school

[Anonymous No.16914538]

>>16907480

[Anonymous No.16914615]

>>16907498
this

[Anonymous No.16914632]

My diary. About a year ago, on a fine autumn day, I found myself in the park. The afternoon sun glowed on the leaves, red and orange and brown, and I sat, reading Wordsworth's 14-Book Prelude, and from time to time I pauses, raised my eyes from the page, and sighed at the beauty. It was during one of these spots of time that I noticed her, sitting on a bench like my own, on the far side of the path that wended through the trees. She was, I suppose, what they call an art hoe, but such an appellation does not convey what I felt upon seeing her. Her hair was dark, her face pale; in the Byronic idiom, she had a beauty like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that was best of dark and bright met in her aspect and her eyes. I noticed that she too had a book, though I could not tell which.

At that moment (oh happy time!), she looked up, and her eyes met mine, and I confess I was afraid. I have rarely spoken to women, being absorbed in my studies and unwilling to risk the distractions of the feminine form, and how right I was, and yet how wrong! For all thought of Wordsworth and his Prelude fell from my mind, but in their place came a contemplation of Beauty so profound that, like the great poet of Grasmere, I wished to cry "I feel- I feel it all!"

Presently I wondered whether I should approach and speak to her. Her gaze had gone back to her book, as had mine, though of course the words imparted no meaning to my mind (for the light of mere signs is as darkness before such radiant Beauty). I had almost decided to chance a conversation when it happened, and I heard a voice, soft but insistent. "M-my favorite poem is Wordsworth's 'The World is Too Much With Us,' but I've only read the 2-Book Prelude." My heart leapt up at her words, for how could it not! I beheld her face again, lovelier by far than any I had yet seen, and had the urge to take her hand. Instead, I asked her to sit beside me, and she did, her body close to my own, and yet her presence did not make me tremble. It gave me strength, and manfully I expounded on the great poet's efforts, his impossible quest to write a prelude to an even greater work, a work of philosophy so wondrous that it could not be glimpsed, and even its Prelude could not be finished in this life.

As we conversed, her mouth curling sweetly into smiles and her fingers tapping in nervous happiness, I waxed great with love. The feeling grew stronger still when she showed me her book: the Riverside Chaucer, well-worn and with copious notes. "I'm just rereading the Wife of Bath's prologue," she explained. "She's kind of a feminist icon, don't you think?" I did not mind this display of pseudo-political fervor, misguided though it was, no more than I minded that she had not read the entire Prelude. What could be better than to help another soul (and one so lovely!) grow in wisdom? Since then we have spent many nights together in the pleasures of body and mind, and I know more about women than almost all men

[Anonymous No.16915427]

>>16912451
choppy (bad flow) and overwritten. the images pretend to be elaborate and weighty but are comically shit. if it were simpler it would be more descriptive.

[Anonymous No.16915551]

>Ctrl-f
>No Weininger
>mfw

[Anonymous No.16915797]

>>16907068
Larry Flynt.

[Anonymous No.16916774]

>>16914632
R.C. Waldun! I’d know his style anywhere....