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IBNeko's Journal-Nyo~!
ibneko
ibneko
Me? Perverted? Whatever are you talking about!?
For the mass loomed before her; it protruded; she felt it pressing on her eyeballs. Then, as if some juice necessary for the lubrication of her faculties were spontaneously squirted, she began precariously dipping among the blues and umbers, moving her brush hither and thither, but it was now heavier and went slower, as if it had fallen in with some rhythm which was dictated to her (she kept looking at the hedge, at the canvas) by what she saw, so that while her hand quivered with life, this rhythm was strong enough to bear her along with it on its current. Certainly she was losing consciousness of other things. And as she lost consciousness of outer things, and her name and her personality and her appearance, and whether Mr. Carmichael was there or not, her mind kept throwing up from its depths, scenes, and names, and sayings, and memories and ideas, like a fountain spurting over that glaring, hideous difficult white space, while she modelled it with greens and blues.
-p. 159, VA. Woolf - To the Lighthouse

And what struck me when I first read this was:
For the mass loomed before her; it protruded; she felt it pressing on her eyeballs. Then, as if some juice necessary for the lubrication of her faculties were spontaneously squirted, she began precariously dipping among the blues and umbers, moving her brush hither and thither, but it was now heavier and went slower, as if it had fallen in with some rhythm which was dictated to her (she kept looking at the hedge, at the canvas) by what she saw, so that while her hand quivered with life, this rhythm was strong enough to bear her along with it on its current. Certainly she was losing consciousness of other things. And as she lost consciousness of outer things, and her name and her personality and her appearance, and whether Mr. Carmichael was there or not, her mind kept throwing up from its depths, scenes, and names, and sayings, and memories and ideas, like a fountain spurting over that glaring, hideous difficult white space, while she modelled it with greens and blues.

Current Mood: "innocent"

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Comments
From: witchbaby_boi Date: March 29th, 2004 12:48 pm (UTC) (Link)
I like how you abbreviated Virginia's name.

I also like am disturbed by how you perverted literature.

<333 Eric
yifinity From: yifinity Date: March 29th, 2004 01:07 pm (UTC) (Link)
But I don't think you perverted the passage! It sounds to me like it was meant to be read that way. If Woolf hadn't meant it to be somewhat sexual, she could have easily used different words... I'm sure she's competent enough to do that, at least.

The other day: "I hate female authors!" "Oh yeah? Well, Virginia Woolf hates you!"
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