Write about an art seduction in 63 words.
It smelt like a church, as it should. Wooden pews. An image of a man supine, shimmering on a slab. The sound of rain. Water fizzes upwards. Wagner, always Wagner. A saturation, an immersion. So much water. Minutes go by. A deluge. He is extracted, taken, drawn upwards with the water. No resistance. Slow, Slow, Slowly, he ascends into the heavens. I am without.
Is seduction like new romanticism?
Make me yours: the psychodynamics of seduction through works of art
"Seduction is the process of persuading someone to do that which he or she has wanted to do all the time." Han
Se-duce: "To lead aside or astray, esp. from the path of rectitude or duty; to entice to evil; to corrupt."
According to Australian journalists Leigh Sales and Annabel Crabb, Lolita's one of those novels most politicians would never admit is their favourite book. Most with any chutzpah when asked, will say To Kill a Mockingbird or The Great Gatsby, or if they dare, The Catcher in the Rye —never Lolita, all great coming of age novels, or because we are in Germany, Bildungsroman. Lolita, or course is one of my favourites too. But it's true, nobody ever mentions Lolita. But those lines, those lines,
“No,” she said. “No, honey, no.”
“She had never called me honey before.” This still make me me very sad, as all rejections do.
"This is bow it happens sometimes, misery or joy engulfs me, without any particular tumult ensuing: nor any pathos: I am dissolved, not dismembered; I fall I flow I melt. " Barthes
Barthes Lover's Discourse is another of my all time favourite—fragmented, stream of conscious—one of those books you can pick up and read anytime for insights about love and loss.
Do we need to be engulfed?
"Either woe or well-being, sometimes I have a craving to be engulfed." Is it true what Zizek said...about the fear of falling in love? We become simply more and more afraid of it happening. It’s because as you get older you know if you accept it, your entire life changes. Nothing, absolutely nothing stays the same.
"The image of the other-to which I was glued, on which I lived-no longer exists; sometimes this is a (futile) catastrophe which seems to remove the image forever, sometimes it is an excessive happiness which enables me to unite with the image; in any case, severed or united, dissolved or discrete, I am nowhere gathered together; opposite, neither you nor me, nor death, nor anything else to talk to."
"...sudden overpowering attraction to Étant donnés. I had been unequivocally seduced, and this is where it all started. "