Blue of NoonPenguin, 2001 - 128 páginas One of the twentieth century's great nihilist novels, Blue of Noon is a blackly compelling account of depravity and terror that retains all its shocking power today. Set in pre-war Europe, its narrator lurches despairingly from city to city in a surreal sexual and mental nightmare of squalor, sadism and drunken encounters - his journey into madness mirroring the fighting and marching on the streets outside. Confronting Fascism, the novel is torn between identifying with history's victims and being seduced by the violent glamour of its terrible victors. One of the most brilliant intellects and influential French writers of his time, Bataille's unflinching exploration of the dark forces beneath the surface of civilization defies all our expectations. |
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Resultados 1-3 de 32
Página 47
... hand . - ' Louise , ' he concluded , ' leans towards the heroic solution . Monsieur , I don't know what you ... hands and rubbed them together very softly . ' In a vacuum . As if we were faced with the givens of an arbitrary problem ...
... hand . - ' Louise , ' he concluded , ' leans towards the heroic solution . Monsieur , I don't know what you ... hands and rubbed them together very softly . ' In a vacuum . As if we were faced with the givens of an arbitrary problem ...
Página 87
... hand like a knife , I repeatedly buried the steel nib in the back of my left hand and forearm . Just to see - just to see , and also : I wanted to inure myself to pain . I inflicted a number of dirty cuts , more blackish than red ...
... hand like a knife , I repeatedly buried the steel nib in the back of my left hand and forearm . Just to see - just to see , and also : I wanted to inure myself to pain . I inflicted a number of dirty cuts , more blackish than red ...
Página 117
... hands with Lazare . I even held her hand a moment in mine , but I was already thinking that it was Michel who was dead , not I. I then embraced Xenie : I would have liked to give her a real kiss , but I felt myself verging on ...
... hands with Lazare . I even held her hand a moment in mine , but I was already thinking that it was Michel who was dead , not I. I then embraced Xenie : I would have liked to give her a real kiss , but I felt myself verging on ...
Contenido
The Evil Omen | 19 |
Motherly Feet | 33 |
Antonios Story | 69 |
Derechos de autor | |
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Términos y frases comunes
ancien régime André Breton Antonio anxiety arms asked Badalona Barcelona Bataille Bataille's began blood Blue of Noon burst café Café de Flore Calella cante jondo Catalan corpse Criolla crying dance dead death Dirty Dirty's door Dorothea dream dress drinking drunk empty everything eyes face feeling fell felt floor forehead frightened front Georges Bataille girl glass hair hand happen head Hitler Youth imagined insane inside kill kissed laughing Lazare Lazare's leave longer looked Lotte Lenya ludicrous maid Michel Monsieur Melou mother-in-law mouth naked never night once pain pale Prüm Ramblas saying seemed shouted sick singing sleep smile someone Spanish Civil War speaking spoke staring started stay stood stopped story street talking tears tell There's things thought told took train Troppmann turned ugly Vienna voice vomit waiting walked wanted window woman Xenie Xenie's