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Goodreads helps you keep track of books you want to read. Want to Read saving…. Want to Read Currently Reading Read. Other editions. Enlarge cover. Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Open Preview See a Problem? Details if other :. Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. Il commet trois crimes. Get A Copy. Paperback , pages. Published June 23rd by Gallimard first published More Details Original Title. Other Editions Friend Reviews. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up.

To ask other readers questions about Aphrodite , please sign up. Lists with This Book. Community Reviews. Showing Average rating 3. Rating details. More filters. Sort order. Start your review of Aphrodite. This writer is sublime. I cannot think - I can only respond as the string of a violin quivers under the drawing of a bow.

This is prose so voluptuous that no amount of imagery, sumptuous, voluminous, sensuous or rapturous can even begin to describe the delights of this book. Literature only reaches the utmost limit of its seductiveness when it gives occasion for jealousy - not the petty feelings that constitute envy of one writer for another, but the searing, tumultuous emotion that demands wi Ah! Literature only reaches the utmost limit of its seductiveness when it gives occasion for jealousy - not the petty feelings that constitute envy of one writer for another, but the searing, tumultuous emotion that demands withholding its beauty and wonder from the eyes of all other readers.

Such a book is this. View all 6 comments. A little bit of a preamble here, so those looking for a succinct review need to jump down a few paragraphs. First point: when I first started assembling my "reading list" which, for a very long time afterwards was just an endless spreadsheet document with names of books and their authors about odd years ago, and was pilfering all kinds of names of classic and genre lit to add, I came up against a conundrum: was I going to include "erotica", a genre which, at that point in my life I had littl A little bit of a preamble here, so those looking for a succinct review need to jump down a few paragraphs.

First point: when I first started assembling my "reading list" which, for a very long time afterwards was just an endless spreadsheet document with names of books and their authors about odd years ago, and was pilfering all kinds of names of classic and genre lit to add, I came up against a conundrum: was I going to include "erotica", a genre which, at that point in my life I had little use for? Sure, you can make the easy "one-handed reading" jokes all you'd like, but somewhere deep in my mind was the idea that, much like almost everything else I'd included, there had to be good reason why the genre existed, and interesting texts to be read.

On the other hand, I really couldn't conceive of what could be gained from endless descriptions of physical encounters and emotional conflicts. Well, years later, I'm glad to have made the right decision. Oh, no doubt there will be duds here and there as there are in any genres , but my inclusion of potential erotica reads will likely be helped by my overarching focus on, and love for, "non-contemporary" books.

Second point: My reading of this books was somewhat hampered by my choice of physical text. I don't really have time in my life to re-read anything, so I greatly enjoyed finishing the book, while worried that much enjoyment may have been missed from the first half.

C'est la vie. As a short aside, the illustrated version are quite nice, although the Milo Manara artwork - while certainly accomplished - is a bit too, uh, clinically "gynecological" for my tastes, the Georges Bess artwork has a nice "poster art" quality at times and the Claire Wendling artwork is in a darker, more interesting style. A thoroughly enjoyable read!

So, as may be seen, this scandalous, phenomenal bestseller of its time is something more than a mere "stroke book. Which is not to say the overall "erotic" tone is not present - the opening scenes in which Chrysis luxuriates in sleeping late, bathing and performing her daily ablutions and toilette, while admiring and enjoying her body are a masterclass in subtle, tactile, erotic writing - with a sensory evocation of texture, color, surface, light and scent; and a focus on hair, skin, water, perfume, atmosphere, dressing, costume and tinting.

The plot is fairly straightforward. But Chrysis is indifferent and her perverse streak "If someone should adore me, it seems to me that I would find much pleasure in making him suffer until he died of it" drives her to demand three offerings as proof of the sculptor's love. Obtaining the offerings will involve the commission of three crimes, each worse than the last: the mirror of Sappho theft , the High Priestess' Ivory Comb murder, as she is never without it , and the necklace that adorns the statue of Aphrodite sacrilege.

The climax, which I will reveal only in a spoiler space later, involves a reversal of power and a decision to embrace transient beauty over life itself, and how art preserves that beauty in eternal, if dead, form.

He is melancholy because he finds that he loves the marble statue of Aphrodite he has sculpted more than his actual lover, the queen, because it is perfect and eternal. His passion for Chrysis undergoes an interesting transformation as the story proceeds, hinging specifically on a detailed, symbolic dream he experiences near the climax. Chrysis' specific request for objects relating to the presentation of physical beauty also has a neat inversion at the end.

There are interesting secondary characters and scenes as well even tween Cleopatra shows up for a chapter! The historical setting allows for contrasts between the ancient and modern world, wherein the ancient is seen as more pragmatic regarding sex, sexuality, etc. May 28, Eadweard rated it liked it Shelves: historical-fiction , fiction-read. A decadent and erotic? If I'm not mistaken, this became a best seller when it came out.

For an older work downloaded off Project Gutenberg, the translation was quite explicit. She saw herself like a great pearl-shell lying open on a rock. Her skin became smooth and A decadent and erotic? Her skin became smooth and perfect; the lines of her legs tapered away into blue light; her whole form was more supple; her hands were transfigured. The lightness of her body was such that she raised herself on two fingers and allowed herself to float for a little and fall gently back on the marble, causing the water to ripple softly against her chin.

The water entered her ears with the provocation of a kiss. It was when taking her bath that Chrysis began to adore herself.

Every part of her body became separately the object of tender admiration and the motive of a caress. She played a thousand charming pranks with her hair and her breasts.

Sometimes, even, she accorded a direct satisfaction to her perpetual desires, and no place of repose seemed to her more propitious for the minute slowness of this delicate solace. A long band, livid as a water leaf, enveloped the horizon with an olive-coloured girdle. Higher up, several tints sprang out of one another, liquid sheets of blue-green sky, irisated, or lilac-coloured, melting insensibly into the leaden azure of the upper heavens.

Then, these tiers of colour rose slowly, a line of gold appeared, mounted, expanded: a thin thread of purple illumined this melancholic dawn, and, in a flood of blood, the sun was born.

Dec 05, Michael Steger rated it liked it. I was led to this book by some intriguing, amusing references to it at the beginning of Roberto Bolano's 'The Savage Detectives.

It is the story of a much-admired though fictional Alexandrian courtesan, in the reign of Berenice II of Egypt i. Shortly after the novella begins, t I was led to this book by some intriguing, amusing references to it at the beginning of Roberto Bolano's 'The Savage Detectives. Shortly after the novella begins, the heroine chants a song-poem in praise of her body, ending with some words of praise for her sex: 'She is a purple flower, overflowing with honey and scent' -- and that, more or less, sets the tone.

It may remind you of Flaubert's 'Salaambo,' though of course Flaubert evidently was much more into violence and sadism than sex per se. Louys was a friend of Valery, Mallarme, and Wilde who dedicated 'Salome' to Louys and an admirer of the new work of the young Gide. He was also a great celebrant of Lesbian love--indeed, like Kristeva in her 'Soleil Noir,' Louys seems to question how on earth women ever come to be attracted to men at all--and to this day Louys is something of a minor icon in Lesbian cultural history.

This is not a great book, but it is nonetheless a fascinating one. In his Introduction, Louys suggests that his novel is meant to serve the cause of reminding readers of how sensual and pleasurable life could be, if we think of the Mediterranean cultures before the Christian era of sin and shame.

Against the frigid, efficient North, Louys pits the languorous, hedonistic South Those who have not felt the exigencies of the flesh to the uttermost, whether for love or hatred,are incapable of understanding the full range of the exigencies of the mind. Just as the beauty of the soul illumines the whole face, in like manner virility of the body is an indispensable condition of a fruitful brain. The worst insult that Delacroix could address to men, the insult that he hurled without distinction against the decriers of Rubens and the detractors of Ingres, was the terrible word: eunuchs.

But furthermore, it would seem that the genius of peoples, like that of individuals, is above all sensual.

All the cities that have reigned over the world, Babylon, Alexandria, Athens, Rome, Venice, Paris, have by a general law been as licentious as they were powerful, as if their dissoluteness was necessary to their splendour. The cities where the legislator has attempted to implant a narrow, unproductive, and artificial virtue have seen themselves condemned to utter death from the very first day.

And it is for this reason that after two thousand years we are able to gauge the nothingness of Spartan virtue, and declare, following Renan's exhortation, that we "curse the soil that bred this mistress of sombre errors, and insult it because it exists no longer.

Civilization is marching to the north, is entering into mist, cold, mud. What night! A people clothed in black fills the mean streets. What is it thinking of? We know not, but our twenty-five years shiver at being banished to a land of old men. But let those who will ever regret not to have known that rapturous youth of the earth which we call ancient life, be allowed to live again, by a fecund illusion, in the days when human nudity the most perfect form that we can know and even conceive of, since we believe it to be in God's image, could unveil itself under the features of a sacred courtesan, before the twenty thousand pilgrims who covered the strands of Eleusis; when the most sensual love, the divine love of which we are born, was without sin: let them be allowed to forget eighteen barbarous, hypocritical, and hideous centuries.

CAT TL1055 PDF

Marie de Heredia

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SIGNALS AND SYSTEMS BY PALANI PDF

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