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
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.
Interpretation
The quote explores the intimate, secretive expressions of love that occur in passionate encounters.
In this quote, Jean Genet suggests that the expression of love, especially in its erotic form, exists in a unique and unspoken realm that transcends ordinary communication. This 'nocturnal language' symbolizes the deep, personal connections that lovers share, which are fleeting and often lost by the morning, emphasizing the ephemeral nature of such experiences and feelings.
In practice
This quote could be used in a discussion about the nature of romantic relationships during a poetry reading.
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.
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.
Anyone who hasn't experienced the ecstasy of betrayal knows nothing about ecstasy at all.
When my love swears that she is made of truth, _x000D_ _x000D_ I do believe her, though I know she lies.
Perhaps love is a minor madness. And as with madness, it's unendurable alone. The one person who can relieve us is of course the sole person we cannot go to: the one we love. So instead we seek out allies, even among strangers and wives, fellow patients who, if they can't touch the edge of our particular sorrow, have felt something that cuts nearly as deep.
It takes courage to love, but pain through love is the purifying fire which those who love generously know. We all know people who are so much afraid of pain that they shut themselves up like clams in a shell and, giving out nothing, receive nothing and therefore shrink until life is a mere living death.
I'm tired of praise; and love is very sweet, when it is simple and sincere like this.
To be in love is merely to be in a state of perceptual anesthesia - to mistake an ordinary young woman for a goddess.
I hate the day, because it lendeth light_x000D_ _x000D_ To see all things, but not my love to see.
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