the constant imago

by uzwi

This Christmas, why not give Viriconium, city of sex, syphillis & consubstantiation ? “When he first fell in love with Vera Ghillera, my uncle had the walls of his room painted a heavy sealing-wax red; at the window there were thick velvet curtains the same colour, pulled shut. Pictures of the ballerina were everywhere–on the walls, the tables, the mantelpiece–posing in costumes she had worn for La chatte, The fire last Wednesday at Lowth, and The little hump-backed horse. The woman herself, or her effigy made in a kind of yellow wax, lay on a catafalque in the centre of the room, her strange, compact dancer’s body naked, the legs parted in invitation, the arms raised imploringly, her head replaced by the stripped and polished brown skull of a horse.”

Now in audiobook.