sábado, 22 de dezembro de 2007

I knew her eight years ago. She was in my class. I don't teach full-time anymore, strictly speaking don' teach literature at all - for years now just the one class, a big senior seminar in critical writing caleed Pratical Criticism. I attract a lot of female students. (...) Ah, it's not a fast allegro, is it? Not at all. now, there's no Mozart piece with metronome markings, and why, why is that so? You remember when Mozart died..." But here I have my orgasm, the fantasy lesson is ended, and, for the moment, I am sick no longer with desire. Isn't that Yeats) "Consume my heart away; sick with desire/ And fastened to a dying animal / it knows not what it is." Yeats. Yes. "Caught in that sensual music," and so on.

Philip ROTH, The Dying Animal.

Sailing to Byzantium

That is no country for old man. The young

In one another's arms, birds in the trees -

O sages standing in God's holy fire
An in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away, sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It Knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.

W. B. YEATS, The Tower

2 comentários:

Anónimo disse...

Um outro maravilhoso Roth. Outro, tal como o recente Património, mas igualmente a Elegia (Todo-o-Mundo). E a Pastoral Americana (Von Nixon...), as estrelas de Casei com um Comunista e a juventude perdida em A Mancha Humana.Podiamos ainda acrescentar o Complexo de Portnoy, entre mais. Este, aqui,o Animal Moribundo, com o acrescento fascinante de Yeats!

Anónimo disse...

Dois enormes escritores.