I am just thinking, after reading comments from Erica and Genese, that we should never forget how much fun demon lovers can be before it all goes to hell.
There was one I actually called "The Wolf." He had very seductive eyes, danced with me, made potions out of plants, did perfectly outrageous things, had multiple lovers of both sexes,, could not be trusted at all, and had a whole arsenal of sophisticated damage control methods. We smeared each other with honey.
Oh my. It always starts with the eyes. Someone ought to do a study. One thought: when I look back, I can almost always pinpoint something the person did that should have been a dead giveaway (if I had been in my right mind). Why, for example, did I think it was utterly charming when she said "I'm an addict"?
Well, I think it is the danger that attracts us, right? The whole complex of "I shouldn't do this." We love to do what we should not do. Dancing on the edge of that volcano. And as painful as it can be, really, I have no regrets.
College. Someone groped me in the dark, and he appeared and whisked me away. We listened to Otis Redding and drank Fireball. He had auburn hair and dark eyes and mean hands and knew everything. 10+
Exactly. Super exciting, dramatic, fun -- and awful at some point. One of those I wish I'd been there but know I would have regretted it moments. Nice, Erica.
Alas, Daemon lover only ever in imagination. There, less an explosion, more of an expansion; awarded a cataclysmic score that goes to eleven. Given others' comments here, plus the poetry, Jackson's and Bowen's haunting education (what we consent to when we say 'I do'), and the impassioned, ravishing, paintings the tale inspires, I suspect the adventure worth it. At the very least it earns a story to tell. And imagination might bend beyond suicide, its contemplation alone lets life flood in.
Re: the microfiction. I'm reminded of a paraphrase of a line from a lyric by Paul Simon: "A person sees what they want to see and disregards the rest." That often is a basic element of falling in love.
Excellent, Larry. Nice detective work. That is a macabre picture for sure. A person on my Facebook feed mentioned Heathcliff and Catherine in Wuthering Heights and this Pirner 'Daemon Love' reminds me of that, of Heathcliff at the grave.
I seem to have quite a few short stories on this topic . .due to, perhaps, too much personal experience or too active an imagination? . . I'll never tell . . .If I may be so self indulgent .. . here's one:
I am just thinking, after reading comments from Erica and Genese, that we should never forget how much fun demon lovers can be before it all goes to hell.
There was one I actually called "The Wolf." He had very seductive eyes, danced with me, made potions out of plants, did perfectly outrageous things, had multiple lovers of both sexes,, could not be trusted at all, and had a whole arsenal of sophisticated damage control methods. We smeared each other with honey.
Oh my. It always starts with the eyes. Someone ought to do a study. One thought: when I look back, I can almost always pinpoint something the person did that should have been a dead giveaway (if I had been in my right mind). Why, for example, did I think it was utterly charming when she said "I'm an addict"?
Well, I think it is the danger that attracts us, right? The whole complex of "I shouldn't do this." We love to do what we should not do. Dancing on the edge of that volcano. And as painful as it can be, really, I have no regrets.
College. Someone groped me in the dark, and he appeared and whisked me away. We listened to Otis Redding and drank Fireball. He had auburn hair and dark eyes and mean hands and knew everything. 10+
Exactly. Super exciting, dramatic, fun -- and awful at some point. One of those I wish I'd been there but know I would have regretted it moments. Nice, Erica.
Alas, Daemon lover only ever in imagination. There, less an explosion, more of an expansion; awarded a cataclysmic score that goes to eleven. Given others' comments here, plus the poetry, Jackson's and Bowen's haunting education (what we consent to when we say 'I do'), and the impassioned, ravishing, paintings the tale inspires, I suspect the adventure worth it. At the very least it earns a story to tell. And imagination might bend beyond suicide, its contemplation alone lets life flood in.
Re: the microfiction. I'm reminded of a paraphrase of a line from a lyric by Paul Simon: "A person sees what they want to see and disregards the rest." That often is a basic element of falling in love.
Regarding Maximilian Pirner's painting. According to his Wikipedia entry, the painting is titled "Daemon Love" (without the ending 'r'). Unfortunately, the Wikipedia entry doesn't include a picture of the painting. So I used the internet to get a translation of 'Daemon Love' into Czech (,démonská láska) and used that to do a search. I found this, for what it's worth: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Jaroslav_Vrchlick%C3%BD,_Maxmili%C3%A1n_Pirner_-_D%C3%A9mon_l%C3%A1ska_-_1893_-_Image_III.png
Larry, See my added text at the end of the original post. Hannah Grant wrote to me with more details about the Demon Love illustrations.
Thanks. I'm glad she found additional illustrations to the book of poems.
Excellent, Larry. Nice detective work. That is a macabre picture for sure. A person on my Facebook feed mentioned Heathcliff and Catherine in Wuthering Heights and this Pirner 'Daemon Love' reminds me of that, of Heathcliff at the grave.
I seem to have quite a few short stories on this topic . .due to, perhaps, too much personal experience or too active an imagination? . . I'll never tell . . .If I may be so self indulgent .. . here's one:
https://www.storymagazine.org/frank-n-stein/