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"For a moment, my heart stood still, and I gasped for breath. Before me, in place of the familiar structures, there was disclosed a panorama of unearthly, of astounding beauty. In deep dells, bowered by overhanging trees, there bloomed flowers such as only dreams can show; such deep purples that yet seemed to glow like precious stones with a hidden but ever-present radiance, roses whose hues outshone any that are to be seen in our gardens, tall lilies alive with light, and blossoms that were as beaten gold."Written in December, 1935, when Arthur Machen was his early 70s, N reveals itself as one of the finest of his pieces: a strange, mystical tale about a possible hidden paradise in the London suburb of Stoke Newington.
No other writer of the fin-de-siècle period undertook a more elaborate exploration of perversities and abnormalities than Jean Lorrain, and no one else went as far afield in the search for discoveries of that curious kind than he did. Perhaps, given the variety of human behavior, it was not possible for him actually to invent perversities that no one actually practiced, or were even tempted to practice, but what is certain is that no one ever examined the anatomy of eroticism, including its wilder extremes, with a greater analytical fervor.In this, the second collection of short stories by Jean Lorrain to be made available in English, exquisitely translated by Brian Stableford, psychological studies of amorous perversity are presented together with mock-folktales, giving further evidence of the amazing inventiveness and imagination of one of the key figures of the Decadent Movement.
A coastline razed and inundated by a hurricane. A traveler journeying towards the flood instead of away from it. A team of rescue workers without anyone to rescue, but who for various reasons can't leave the drowned city. It has been said that those who live by the sword shall die by the sword, but what about those whose job it is to save others? When the storehouse and everything in it has burned down, will we finally be able to see the moon?
In 2007, Quentin S. Crisp visited Paris and kept a diary of his stay there and his return to Britain. An experiment in literary improvisation, the Notebooks are also a tribute to mood, moment, image and allusion. Making a virtue of pareidolia, the author sifts through the subjective impressions of cumulative duration in an attempt to distil beauty and truth from the everyday, and to reclaim first-person experience from the ravages of 21st century media saturation.
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