Which books bring out the strongest romantic feelings in you? I can't even get through Ovid's Ars Amatoria because I always have to stop when the feelings get too strong
>tfw I will never grab my reluctant bride and say "Quod matri pater est, hoc tibi ero"
What is a good work of Ovid to start out with? I have a big interest in him but have yet to read anything of his. Honestly the Romans are like that for me in general.
...
Ovid is wonderful. I think he's terribly underrated. My favourite classical author after Homer (of course).
Just read Metamorphoses. It's probably the most influential book in western literature. If you prefer lyric poetry then his Amores and Ars Amoratia.
Ad Auroram ne properet
Once I picked up Petrarca's Canzoniere in a library and flipped through it. After three sonnets I was just staring silently into nothingness and feeling >tfw no gf intensely for a minute or two.
Certain sections of Don Juan (Byron's) do that for me. Bit with Don Juan and Haidee on the beach in particular.
Just a little fun fact: Byron pronounced Don Juan as "don jewin."
>Metamorphoses
>the most influential book in western literature
u wot m8
>romance
No thanks
Another fun fact:
Byron was the father of Ada Lovelace, whose research on computing machines was used as basis on the possibility of computers. So now we have Veeky Forums because Lord Byron couldn't keep his dick in his pants.
Indeed, a few of the rhymes don't work unless you pronounce it "Jew-an". I think he rhymes it with "true one" at one point.
okay that explains it
I've read a bit of Don Juan and it was clear from the meter that it was two syllables, stress on the first. But I had no idea how it would be pronounced
better to marry than to burn
the girl in that painting has the most perfect nose a woman can have
there are several areas in Spain where it's pronounced like that
Millais knew how to paint a qt
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Nay, he knew nothing now, except that where
The Glastonbury gilded towers shine,
A lady dwelt, whose name was Guenevere;
This he knew also; that some fingers twine,
Not only in a man's hair, even his heart,
(Making him good or bad I mean,) but in his life,
Skies, earth, men's looks and deeds, all that has part,
Not being ourselves, in that half-sleep, half-strife,
(Strange sleep, strange strife,) that men call living; so
Was Launcelot most glad when the moon rose,
Because it brought new memories of her. "Lo,
Between the trees a large moon, the wind lows
"Not loud, but as a cow begins to low,
Wishing for strength to make the herdsman hear:
The ripe corn gathereth dew; yea, long ago,
In the old garden life, my Guenevere
"Loved to sit still among the flowers, till night
Had quite come on, hair loosen'd, for she said,
Smiling like heaven, that its fairness might
Draw up the wind sooner to cool her head.
"Now while I ride how quick the moon gets small,
As it did then: I tell myself a tale
That will not last beyond the whitewashed wall,
Thoughts of some joust must help me through the vale,
"Keep this till after: How Sir Gareth ran
A good course that day under my Queen's eyes,
And how she sway'd laughing at Dinadan.
No. Back again, the other thoughts will rise,
"And yet I think so fast 'twill end right soon:
Verily then I think, that Guenevere,
Made sad by dew and wind, and tree-barred moon,
Did love me more than ever, was more dear
"To me than ever, she would let me lie
And kiss her feet, or, if I sat behind,
Would drop her hand and arm most tenderly,
And touch my mouth. And she would let me wind
"Her hair around my neck, so that it fell
Upon my red robe, strange in the twilight
With many unnamed colours, till the bell
Of her mouth on my cheek sent a delight
"Through all my ways of being; like the stroke
Wherewith God threw all men upon the face
When he took Enoch, and when Enoch woke
With a changed body in the happy place.
"Once, I remember, as I sat beside,
She turn'd a little, and laid back her head,
And slept upon my breast; I almost died
In those night-watches with my love and dread."
How can you possibly think that Ovid is underrated? If anything he's a bit overrated right now. People speak of him more reverently than they speak of Vergil.
Really? I had no idea. What regions?
The chapter in Anna Karenina where Levin and Kitty get together literally made me squeal and throw the book down and hug myself like a little girl.
this thread could use some more qts
Justine. Really explains how S&M works.
That passage in 2666 where Archimboldi meets the aristocratic girl he grew up with and she asks him how he earned his Iron Cross and all he says is: "For valour."
Or the story in Europe Central about Shostakovitch and Elena Konstantinovskaya, and the point she tells him that she will be his sky, he can never touch her but he can look up at any time and she'll be there. Symphony No.7 gives me the chills.