The despondency that follows makes me feel somewhat like a shipwrecked man who spies a sail, sees himself saved, and suddenly remembers that the lens of his spyglass has a flaw, a blurred spot -- the sail he has seen.
Jean GenetRead
She was happy, and perfectly in line with the tradition of those women they used to call "ruined," "fallen," feckless, bitches in heat, ravished dolls, sweet sluts, instant princesses, hot numbers, great lays, succulent morsels, everybody's darlings . . .
Interpretation
This quote explores the complex emotions and societal perceptions surrounding women who embrace their sexuality.
In this quote by Jean Genet, the author reflects on the dichotomy of happiness and societal judgment faced by women labeled as 'ruined' or 'fallen' for their sexual choices. Through the use of provocative language, Genet challenges the derogatory terms often used to describe these women, suggesting a rebellion against societal norms while celebrating their freedom and desire.
In practice
In a discussion about female empowerment and self-acceptance.
The despondency that follows makes me feel somewhat like a shipwrecked man who spies a sail, sees himself saved, and suddenly remembers that the lens of his spyglass has a flaw, a blurred spot -- the sail he has seen.
Erotic play discloses a nameless world which is revealed by the nocturnal language of lovers. Such language is not written down. It is whispered into the ear at night in a hoarse voice. At dawn it is forgotten.
I'm homosexual. How and why are idle questions. It's a little like wanting to know why my eyes are green.
I wanted to swallow myself by opening my mouth very wide and turning it over my head so that it would take in my whole body, and then the Universe, until all that would remain of me would be a ball of eaten thing which little by little would be annihilated: that is how I see the end of the world.
I decided to be what crime made of me.
It's a true image, born of a false spectacle.
Dorothy was in that state human beings passed through at the beginning of a love affair, in which they desire to say anything and everything to the beloved, to the alter ego, before they have learned what the real Other can and can't understand, can and can't accept.
You don't have to be born beautiful to be wildly attractive.
Her eyes are homes of silent prayers.
It was about then [1920] that I wrote a line which certain people will not let me forget: "She was a faded but still lovely woman of twenty-seven."
Of all the Gods, Love is the best friend of humankind, the helper and healer of all ills that stand in the way of human happiness.
A love affair is like a short story--it has a beginning, a middle, and an end. The beginning was easy, the middle might drag, invaded by commonplace, but the end, instead of being decisive and well knit with that element of revelatory surprise as a well-written story should be, it usually dissipated in a succession of messy and humiliating anticlimaxes.
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