#Violette Leduc

[basicallyanotherwitchesthing]

Violette Leduc - In the Prison of Her Skin - Panther - 1973

#witches #prisoners #occult #vintage #in the prison of her skin #panther books #violette leduc #prison #skin #1973

[abridurif]

La main déshabilla mon bras, s’arrêta près de la veine, autour de la saignée, forniqua dans les dessins, descendit jusqu’au poignet, jusqu’au bout des ongles, rhabilla mon bras avec un long gant suédé, tomba de mon épaule comme un insecte, s’accrocha à l’aisselle. Je tendais mon visage, j’écoutais ce que mon bras répondait à l’aventurière. La main qui se voulait convaincante mettait au monde mon bras, mon aisselle. La main se promenait sur le babil des buissons blancs, sur les derniers frimas des prairies, sur l’empois des premiers bourgeons. Le printemps qui avait pépié d’impatience dans ma peau éclatait en lignes, en courbes, en rondeurs. Isabelle allongée sur la nuit enrubannait mes pieds, déroulait la bandelette du trouble. Les mains à plat sur le matelas, je faisais le même travail de charme qu’elle. Elle embrassait ce qu’elle avait caressé puis, de sa main légère, elle ébouriffait, elle époussetait avec le plumeau de la perversité. La pieuvre dans mes entrailles frémissait. Isabelle buvait au sein droit, au sein gauche. Je buvais avec elle, je m’allaitais de ténèbres quand sa bouche s’éloignait. Les doigts revenaient, encerclaient, soupesaient la tiédeur du sein, les doigts finissaient dans mon ventre en épaves hypocrites. Un monde d’esclaves qui avaient même visage que celui d’Isabelle, éventaient mon front, mes mains. Violette Leduc, La Bâtarde, Galllimard, 1964

#violette leduc #la bâtarde

[werkboileddown]

https://denniscooperblog.com/spotlight-on-violette-leduc-therese-and-isabelle-1965/

#jean genet #violette leduc

[lillyli-74]

My desire, my refuge, my catastrophe.

~Violette Leduc

#violette leduc

[exhaled-spirals]

When I'm in Paris I think about suicide every day. Solitude in a crowd is Hell. Solitude in a village makes me feel stronger. Here [in a big city] I hope for a miracle every day. In the countryside, resignation comes naturally.

Violette Leduc, Correspondance: 1945-1972

#quote #violette leduc #letters #solitude #countryside #cities #english

[prettyprince00]

La Bâtarde, Violette Leduc

#fav #violette leduc #la batârde #book quotes #french literature #women writers #girblogging #coquette #faunlet #literature

[librarycards]

She smiled a martyr’s smile for her own benefit: for her wretchedness was also a tenderness, and resignation is not the same as oblivion. […] There were moments when she had no saliva left to remember with, not even the pale pink water ices that her parents used to eat. Just a quarter of a cube of sugar ... Why wasn’t she a little doggie? Here is my paw, here is my tongue, here are my eyes, here is the wordless language that they speak, here is my maddening silence.

Violette Leduc, The Lady and the Little Fox Fur.

[emphasis added]

#violette leduc #words #mine #mumu

[calendark1tten]

#books #la batarde #violette leduc #candles #coquette

[sapphireshorelines]

Like a little warm coal in my heart burns your saying that you miss me. I miss you oh so much.

Vita Sackville-West, letter to Virginia Woolf, 28 February 1926

Her fingers had left a line of fire.

Violette Leduc, Thérèse et Isabelle

I had four dreams in a row / where you were burned, about to burn, or still on fire.

Richard Siken, Unfinished Duet

David de las Heras, The Red Cloud / Leo Plaw, Burning Desire

I am scared to death of arousing physical feelings in her, because of the madness. I don’t know what effect it would have, you see: it is a fire with which I have no wish to play.

Vita Sackville-West, letter to her husband Harold Nicolson about Virginia, 17 August 1926

Understand me / when I say I burn best / when crowned / with your scent: that earth-sweat / & Old Spice I seek out each night

Ocean Vuong, Footnotes

“I admit it, my delicate, I admit it, my little burning flower.”

Violette Leduc, Thérèse et Isabelle

Christian Schloe, Portrait Of A Heart

I think of Vita at Long Barn: all fire and legs and beautiful plunging ways like a young horse.

Virginia Woolf, letter to Vita Sackville-West, 31 March 1928

I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

Casey McQuiston, Red, White and Royal Blue

I hoped to burn out, through Hella, my image of Giovanni and the reality of his touch—I hoped to drive out fire with fire.

James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

The burning was hurting me, our limitation hurt even more.

Violette Leduc, Thérèse et Isabelle

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019)

Desire does not go out like a match, it extinguishes slowly as it burns into ash.

Philippe Besson, Lie With Me

I daresay the old fires of Sapphism are blazing for the last time.

Virginia Woolf, from her diaries, 16 June 1930

Above all, we will no longer find the thing that first pushed us toward one another that day. That singular moment. The pure urgency of it. There were circumstances—a series of coincidences and simultaneous desire. There was something in the atmosphere, something in the time and the place, that brought us together. And then everything broke—like a firework exploding on a dark night in July that spirals out in all directions, blazing brightly, dying before it touches the ground, so that no one gets burned. No one gets hurt.

Philippe Besson, Lie With Me

Francisco De Zurbarán, detail of Allegory of Charity/ Phillipe de Champaigne, detail of Saint Augustine

Then came that July Sunday afternoon when our house suddenly emptied, and we were the only ones there, and fire tore through my guts—because "fire" was the first and easiest word that came to me later that same evening when I tried to make sense of it in my diary. I'd waited and waited in my room pinioned to my bed in a trancelike state of terror and anticipation. Not a fire of passion, not a ravaging fire, but something paralyzing, like the fire of cluster bombs that suck up the oxygen around them and leave you panting because you've been kicked in the gut and a vacuum has ripped up every living lung tissue and dried your mouth, and you hope nobody speaks, because you can't talk, and you pray no one asks you to move, because your heart is clogged and beats so fast it would sooner spit out shards of glass than let anything else flow through its narrowed chambers. Fire like fear, like panic, like one more minute of this and I'll die if he doesn't knock at my door, but I'd sooner he never knock than knock now. I had learned to leave my French windows ajar, and I'd lie on my bed wearing only my bathing suit, my entire body on fire. Fire like a pleading that says, Please, please, tell me I'm wrong, tell me I've imagined all this, because it can't possibly be true for you as well, and if it's true for you too, then you're the crudest man alive.

André Aciman, Call Me By Your Name

How should we like it were stars to burn / With a passion for us we could not return? / If equal affection cannot be, / Let the more loving one be me.

W. H. Auden, The More Loving One

Little Women (2019)

#burning #desire #longing #yearning #fire #vita sackville west #virginia woolf #violette leduc #Thérèse et Isabelle #richard siken #ocean vuoug #night sky with exit wounds #red white and royal blue #james baldwin #giovanni's room #lie with me #call me by your name #w h auden #auden #little women #little woman 2019 #parallels #web weaving #**

[loveswitchery]

The tenderness welling inside me became a pain.

Violette Leduc, from La Bâtarde, tr. by Derek Coltman

#quote #violette leduc #la bâtarde #lit #literature

[yentling]

I'm going to go insane "amidst the general indifference I fed myself on the slops" shut UP

#notes #therese et isabelle #violette leduc #lesbian

[c-etait-ailleurs]

Je vins au monde, je fis le serment d'avoir la passion de l'impossible.

Violette Leduc

#Violette Leduc

[kiki-de-la-petite-flaque]

Quando si è innamorati

si vive sempre

sul marciapiede di una stazione.

Violette Leduc

#Violette Leduc

[linsaad]

“We are talking. It’s a shame. What is said is murdered. Our words that will not grow any bigger or any lovelier will wilt inside our bones. Words wither feelings.”

Violette Leduc

#violette leduc

[myhikari21things]

Read of Therese and Isabelle by Violette Leduc (1966) (242pgs)

Translated from French

#therese and isabelle #violette leduc #fiction #paperback #1960s #first time read

[queerographies]

[Intertestualità nell'opera di Violette Leduc][Luana Doni]

Interstestualità nell'opera di Violette Leduc si concentra soprattutto sull'intreccio tra costruzione del testo e aspetto biografico, mettendo a fuoco il carattere intertestuale della sua opera

L’opera di Violette Leduc, una delle più perturbanti del XX secolo – una letteratura dell’abiezione, della marginalità, ma soprattutto della diversità –, è ancora relativamente poco conosciuta al grande pubblico, nonostante la recente riproposizione dei suoi romanzi principali e l’attualità della sua vicenda biografica, trasposta anche per il cinema da Martin Provost (Violette, 2013). …

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#2023 #critica letteraria #Intertestualità nell&039;opera di Violette Leduc #Italia #Jean Genet #Luana Doni #Martin Provost #Maurice Sachs #Miraggi Edizioni #nonfiction #Saggi #Saggistica #Simone de Beauvoir #Violette Leduc