She was a somewhat scrawny, tuliplike girl of middling height. To see her in sunlight was to see Marxism die. I’m not the only one who said that. It was because seeing someone in actuality who had such a high immediate worth meant you had to decide whether such personal distinction had a right to exist or if she belonged to the state and ought to be shadowed in, reduced in scale ….
I had no money. I was without lineage. It seemed to me that she was proof that life was a terrifying phenomenon of surface immediacy. She made any idea I had of psychological normalcy or of justice absurd since normalcy was not as admirable or as desirable as she, or rather she was normalcy and everything else was a falling off, a falling below, and justice was inconceivable if she would not sleep with you. It was grim that she existed and I had not had her.
She was a somewhat scrawny, tuliplike girl of middling height. To see her in sunlight was to see Marxism die. I’m not the only one who said that. It was because seeing someone in actuality who had such a high immediate worth meant you had to decide whether such personal distinction had a right to exist or if she belonged to the state and ought to be shadowed in, reduced in scale ….
ReplyDeleteI had no money. I was without lineage. It seemed to me that she was proof that life was a terrifying phenomenon of surface immediacy. She made any idea I had of psychological normalcy or of justice absurd since normalcy was not as admirable or as desirable as she, or rather she was normalcy and everything else was a falling off, a falling below, and justice was inconceivable if she would not sleep with you. It was grim that she existed and I had not had her.
“Innocence”
--Harold Brodkey
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how right he is. i would have wished this quote written on every wall here, in the old times, thrown like a fist of light into the face of the regime.
Delete(she is all that, and more)
Isn't she beautiful? Isn't she beautiful? xo
ReplyDelete"Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme development, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears." ~Edgar Allan Poe
The power of one.
ReplyDelete