creative writing school
Module 5: Pleasure & Desire
"Trembling of the summer breeze Barely lying down, the young girl dozes off The comb, from her hair, has slipped The red bra has come undone No dew on the two hills of the Fairyland The peach blossom spring has not yet gushed forth The virtuous man, hesitating, cannot tear his gaze away Leaving is painful for him, but staying is inappropriate."
"The young girl dozing off in broad daylight"
"In this pleasurable fashion, one hour after another passed, and the sun's radiance drew the day to a close, leaving the sky awash in hues of pink and gold. As the evening approached, so too did the warmth between them, and their playful banter soon gave way to more intimate exchanges. With whispered words and tender caresses, they reveled in the delight of each other's company, finding solace and passion in the embrace of the fading light."
Giovanni Boccaccio, "The Decameron", 1348-1353
"In that room she spoke so that her words took on the qualities of sculpture or drawings. She loved the sounds and forms of words. She'd learned this love from reading when she was a child. But she'd never spoken until she was with him. Her voice, when she spoke to him, became her body. It was in her body that she lived. She'd never been so alive."
"Blood and Guts in High School", 1984
"We inhabit what we can: the earthenware, the bathtub, the apartment building, the sidewalk, we build a hut. From beginning to end, we use love as collective survival."
"Fiévreuse plébeienne", 2022
"I like:
salad, cinnamon, cheese, chili peppers, marzipan, the smell of freshly cut hay (I wish a 'nose' would make such a perfume), roses, peonies, lavender, champagne, light political positions, Glenn Gould, excessively cold beer, flat pillows, toast, Havana cigars, Handel, leisurely walks, pears, white or vineyard peaches, cherries, colors, watches, pens, writing feathers, desserts, raw salt, realistic novels, piano, coffee, Pollock, Twombly, all romantic music, Sartre, Brecht, Verne, Fourier, Eisenstein, trains, Médoc, Bouzy, having change, Bouvard and Pécuchet, walking in sandals in the evening on the small roads of the Southwest, the bend of the Adour seen from Dr. L.'s house, the Marx Brothers, serrano at seven in the morning coming out of Salamanca, etc.
I don't like:
white wolves, women in trousers, geraniums, strawberries, the harpsichord, Miro, tautologies, cartoons, Arthur Rubinstein, villas, afternoons, Satie, Bartok, Vivaldi, making phone calls, children's choirs, Chopin's concertos, Burgundy branles, Renaissance dances, the organ, M. A. Charpentier, his trumpets and timpani, the political-sexual, scenes, initiatives, fidelity, spontaneity, evenings with people I don't know, etc.
I like, I don't like: this has no importance for anyone; this, apparently, makes no sense. And yet all this means: my body is not the same as yours. Thus, in this anarchic froth of likes and dislikes, a kind of distracted hatching, the figure of a bodily enigma gradually takes shape, calling for complicity or irritation. Here begins the intimidation of the body, which obliges the other to support me generously, to remain silent and courteous in the face of pleasures or refusals that he does not share.
(A fly annoys me, I kill it: you kill what annoys you. If I had not killed the fly, it would have been out of pure liberalism: I am liberal so as not to be an assassin.)"
Roland Barthes by Roland Barthes, 1975