White Stains has ratings and 7 reviews. Jeff said: Degradation, depravity and odes to fellatio. Yes, the folks of the late ‘s-early ‘s new ho. Other Works by Aleister Crowley: Plays, Fiction, and other originally unnumbered works. WHITE STAINS THE LITERARY REMAINS OF GEORGE ARCHIBALD BISHOP A NEUROPATH OF THE SECOND EMPIRE (Aleister Crowley) Transcribed.
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Love is a fruit with rotted core, Love is a thing shall be no more; Love is a bride of a bitter dower, Easily fades a spring-tide flower. This book is not for the faint of heart. Doyle rated it really aleistsr it Dec 02, In a Victorian Zeitgeist that found Oscar Wilde intensely shocking, Aleister Crowley of course took everything one step further. Lucky I burnt my picture!
Print edition must be purchased new and sold by Amazon. His faithful nurse conveyed him safely to England, where his relatives provided for his maintenance and education.
For we must part, and love must die. Art thou all- wise? Each of the aforementioned poems can be seen as probing some shadow issues alleister to sexuality and pornography and its socially accepted definition.
White Stains by Aleister Crowley (eBook) – Lulu
But if anyone finds this book sexually stimulating, they probably need a lot of therapy. Part of this confrontation can be accomplished by analysing the seemingly rigid separation of pornography and aesthetics and sex and divinity until they are blurred and ultimately broken. What other worship can usurp my days When I may lie amid her sunny tresses Enraptured by the music of her lute One long calm love, one heart’s delight always?
In Mathilde’s womb The poison quickens, and the tare- seeds shoot; On my old upas-tree a bastard fruit Is grafted.
How they were lost, and how those fragments we possess were saved, is best told by relating the romantic and almost incredible story of his life. Thank you for your interest in helping us moderate questionable content on Lulu. At thine own time shalt thou rejoice?
The description on here makes this sound absolutely shocking, dissgusting even, it isn’t it’s really quite beautiful, even in its most gross moments, to some extent i am dissapointed by that, that is not to say that the poetry itself dissapoints me, nor that the themes as stated in the goodreads description are not obvious, but i was hoping for something extremely poetically explicit, but then crowley did not write to shock, provoke perhaps, but not shock.
But English Art as a whole was unmoved, at any rate not stirred to any depth, by this wave of debauchery. Owen McClintic rated it really liked it Nov 11, A burden of sad shameful suffering, The bitter bastard of a bloody kiss, The Parthian arrow poisoned from Love’s sling! Thy buttocks now Are swan- soft, and thou sweatest not; And hast a strange desire begot In me, to lick thy bloody brow; To gnaw thy hollow cheeks, and pull Thy lustful tongue from out it’s sheath; To wallow in the bowels of death, And rip thy belly, and fill full  My hands with all putridities; To chew thy dainty testicles; To revel with the worms in Hell’s Delight in such obscenities; To pour within thine heart the seed Mingled with poisonous discharge From a swollen gland, inflamed and large With gonorrhoea’s delicious breed; To probe thy belly, and to drink The godless fluids, and the pool Of rank putrescence from the stool Thy hanged corpse gave, whose luscious stink Excites these songs sublime.
He hath no scent to drive men mad; no mystic fragrance from his skin Sheds a loose hint of subtle sin such as the queen Faustina had.
Soul’s dual spouse, Dream- serpent of my life, Rose- garland of my brows Within that ivory house, Sex with itself at strife.
Feb 24, Besha rated it really liked it Shelves: Now is the triumph of Love, gazing far to an infinite pleasure, Pleasure that crolwey Heaven’s hopes, that our hands are im- patient to hold. Autumn is on us as we lie In creamy clouds of latticed light That hint at darkness, but descry A rosy flicker through the night, My mistress, my xtains Dane, and I.
In the eyes of man I am contemned, the haughty one. Is it for the deceased or for the living to take our minds off of our inevitable and fatal emulation? With this mind set we now turn to White Stains. Hell shrieks with impious laugh; they sing A mad lewd chant; Hell hails me king! Pure and sane is his early work; then he is carried into the outer current of the great vortex of Sin, and whtie lazily through the sleepy waters of mere sensualism; the pace quickens, he grows fierce in the mysteries of Sapphism and the cult of Venus Aversa with women; later of the same forms of vice with men, all mingled with wild talk of religious dogma and a general exaltation of Priapism at the expense, in particular, of Christianity, in which religion, however, he is undoubtedly a believer till the last the pious will quote James 2, 19, and the infidel will observe that he died in an asylum ; then the full swing of the tide catches him, the mysteries of death become more and more an obsession, and he is flung headlong into Sadism, Necrophilia, all the maddest, fiercest vices that the mind of fiends ever brought up from the pit.
Better than nothing, but certainly not the lavishly illustrated book I expected based on the description.
But we must part, and love must die. This is a patch of magenta to mauve, undoubtedly; but -!
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