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#romantics
depressed-linguist · 8 months
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‘There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand’
Mary Shelley, Frankenstein
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burningvelvet · 4 months
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being a romantic era poet: a quick how-to guide
walk around in nature contemplating Things. start hiking, swimming, sailing, rowing, shooting, riding, etc. for inspiration
be obsessed with the french revolution and related enlightenment-era figures like rousseau, voltaire, mary wollstonecraft, and madame de staël. be more disappointed by napoleon bonaparte than you are by your own father. 
speaking of fathers, your parents and most of your other relatives are all either dying or dead or emotionally abusive. if you have any siblings (full, half, step, or adopted) who DIDN'T die tragically already, then you may choose to be close to them. you also may end up being much TOO close to them. various circumstances may also ban you from seeing them. 
be at least slightly touched by madness and/or some other severe illness(es) including but not limited to: consumption, horrors, syphilis, deformities, lameness, terrors, piles, boils, pox, allergies, coughing, sleep abnormalities, gonorrhea, etc. — for which you must take frequent bed rest and copious amounts of Laudanum (opium derivation)
consider foregoing meat and adopting a vegetable diet instead to purify the spirits. you may also abstain from alcohol for the same reasons. alternatively, you may attempt the veggie diet, end up rejecting it, and becoming a rampant alcoholic instead. in romanticism there is no healthy medium between abstinence and excess.
reject, or at least heavily criticize, christianity. refuse to get married in a church and consider becoming a fervent champion of atheism. alternatively, you may embrace catholicism, but only on an aesthetic basis. eastern religions and minority religions are also acceptable, only because they piss off the christians. 
if you’re not a self-hating member of the aristocracy and instead have to work for a living, do something that allows you to benefit society, be creative, and/or contemplate life. viable options include, but are not limited to: apothecarist, doctor, teacher, preacher, lawyer, farmer, printmaker, publisher, editor. there is also the possibility of earning a few coins from your art. if you were cursed to be born a She, no worries. we believe in equality. you may choose from these occupations: wife, nanny, housekeeper, spinster, amanuensis (copy writer for a man), lady’s companion, divorced wife, singer/actress/escort, widow, regular escort, tutor, or housewife. 
speaking of sexist institutions, try rejecting marriage entirely. Declare your eternal devotion to your lover by having sex with them on your mother’s grave instead.
if you do get married — elope, and only let it be for necessary financial reasons, or to try and save a teenage girl from her controlling family, or out of true love with someone you view as your intellectual equal, or because your life is so racked with scandals and debt that you can only clear your name by matrimony to a wealthy religious woman as your last resort before fleeing the country.
After marriage, quickly assert your belief in the powers of free love and bisexuality by taking extramarital lovers and suggesting your spouse follow suit. If they cannot keep up with your intellectual escapades then consider leaving them. Later on, propose a platonic friendship with them following the separation, or beg them for reconciliation.
If your marriage is happy, try moving in with another bohemian couple to shake things up. Alternatively, you may die before the wedding for dramatic effect.
If you beget children (whether in or out of marriage, makes no matter), do society a favor by choosing to raise them with your beliefs. Consider adopting orphan children, or even non-orphan children. If their parents are poor enough they probably won’t mind. Try kidnapp— I mean adopting — children off the side of the road if you can. 
DIE but do it creatively. ideally young. ideas: prophecy your own death, lead an army into war and then die right before your first battle and on your deathbed curse everyone and demand to see a witch, write a will leaving money to your mistresses or some random young man you have an unrequited romantic obsession with, carry a copy of your dead friend's poetry and read it right before you drown so that your washed up corpse can only be identified by his book in your pocket, die while staring at your lover's shriveled up heart that you keep wrapped up in a copy of his own poetry and then be buried with it, die of the poet's illness (consumption) while your artist friend draws you and then be buried with your lover's writing, get mysteriously poisoned (by yourself) after a series of scandals and accidents and then have your family announce that you were killed by god, die from romanticizing poverty or receiving bad reviews from literary critics, die from walking or horseback riding in the cold and the rain while poeticizing, etc.
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heartofmuse · 5 months
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A romantic knows how to make the soul yearn and paint it with every color of longing so beautiful it becomes poetry.
e.v.e.
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blackhyena · 7 months
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the newly identified portrait of shelley right before his death thoughhhhh 🥺🥺
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prismaticuniverses · 10 days
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thinking about holding f/o hands this morning…..linking pinkies, palm to palm, interlocking fingers
it doesn’t matter how or when, they’ll always get butterflies in their stomach and light in their heart whenever you touch
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aniaks · 5 months
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We are born into the world, and there is something within us, which from the instant that we live, more and more thirsts after its likeness.
Percy Bysshe Shelley, On Love
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leigh-hunt · 8 months
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i'm captivated by the swag of your icon. where is it from?
Hiii it's costume design ideas for stephen tennant as percy shelley by rex whistler! They're absolutely gorgeous. Here are the two designs rex made:
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uncouthriot · 1 year
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when everyone made rude comments about byron’s weight gain in italy, and then there’s shelley who said byron had “changed into the liveliest, & happiest looking man I ever met”
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hela1895 · 26 days
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intimacy
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definegodliness · 1 year
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2-2-2023, “... a villanelle.”
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moon-elegy · 3 months
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another day of waking up without hozier by my side. life is torture and fate is our tormentor
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terryboot · 6 months
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My bullet journal for November. Did something a little different this time.
If youve been following me for a while then you'll know i love Mary Shelley and her contemporaries, especially those who were with her at Villa Diodati in the summer of 1816. But in the last week or so i've been particularly drawn to them. I read The Villa by Rachel Hawkins which is partly inspired by the Villa Diodati gang and havent stopped thinking about them since.
Doing a Romantic Era poets theme has been in the back of my head for a while but this is the first time i've actually thought of a way to do it and i'm pretty happy with how its turned out! Each week will feature a different member of the group but of course Shelley herself had to be first!
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burningvelvet · 6 months
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every squad has the...
quiet bisexual daughter of revolutionary philosophers who pioneers the genre of science fiction in her spare time while hanging with her intellectual friends
her already-married baby daddy on the run from debtor's prison who's trying to save the world with secular anarchist poetry, laudanum, rituals, vegetarianism, and free love
her charismatic but dramatic step-sister who alternately acts as the squad's translator/copyist/entertainer/babysitter/friend/lover/rival/tormentor
her step-sister's rich insane celebrity fuckboy baby daddy who also happens to be the best-selling poet of the era and who they all worship even though he doesn't really care
his hot-tempered doctor who threatens everyone to duels, knows too much about poisons, and inadvertently pioneers the vampire genre with a story about his employer/homoerotic frenemy
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Books have souls. Or so romantics like me tend to think.
Douglas Rushkoff
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isawhitney · 2 months
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Poetry
Is not only a disease it is an STI
Else why would all the Romantics
Have it? Byron slept with Shelley
And the man was sprouting sonnets
Babbling on about foreign kings then
Shelley slept with Mary and her
Sense fell out her ears truly poetry
Must be suppressed. Please wear a
Condom.
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shelleyss · 1 year
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A sketch of the Romantic poet John Keats made by Benjamin Robert Haydon, 1816.
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