17 diciembre 2013

THE HAUNTERS AND THE HAUNTED

I now became aware that something interposed between the page and the light,—the page was over-shadowed. I looked up, and I saw what I shall find it very difficult, perhaps impossible, to describe.

It was a Darkness shaping itself forth from the air in very undefined outline. I cannot say it was of a human form, and yet it had more resemblance to a human form, or rather shadow, than to anything else. As it stood, wholly apart and distinct from the air and the light around it, its dimensions seemed gigantic, the summit nearly touching the ceiling.

While I gazed, a feeling of intense cold seized me. An iceberg before me could not more have chilled me; nor could the cold of an iceberg have been more purely physical. I feel convinced that it was not the cold caused by fear. As I continued to gaze, I thought—but this I cannot say with precision—that I distinguished two eyes looking down on me from the height. One moment I fancied that I distinguished them clearly, the next they seemed gone; but still two rays of a pale-blue light frequently shot through the darkness, as from the height on which I half believed, half doubted, that I had encountered the eyes.

I strove to speak,—my voice utterly failed me; I could only think to myself, "Is this fear? It is not fear!" I strove to rise,—in vain; I felt as if weighed down by an irresistible force. Indeed, my impression was that of an immense and overwhelming Power opposed to my volition,—that sense of utter inadequacy to cope with a force beyond man's, which one may feel physically in a storm at sea, in a conflagration, or when confronting some terrible wild beast, or rather, perhaps, the shark of the ocean, I felt morally. Opposed to my will was another will, as far superior to its strength as storm, fire, and shark are superior in material force to the force of man.

And now, as this impression grew on me,—now came, at last, horror, horror to a degree that no words can convey. Still I retained pride, if not courage; and in my own mind I said, "This is horror, but it is not fear; unless I fear I cannot be harmed; my reason rejects this thing; it is an illusion,—I do not fear."

With a violent effort I succeeded at last in stretching out my hand towards the weapon on the table; as I did so, on the arm and shoulder I received a strange shock, and my arm fell to my side powerless. And now, to add to my horror, the light began slowly to wane from the candles,—they were not, as it were, extinguished, but their flame seemed very gradually withdrawn; it was the same with the fire,—the light was extracted from the fuel; in a few minutes the room was in utter darkness.

The dread that came over me, to be thus in the dark with that dark Thing, whose power was so intensely felt, brought a reaction of nerve. In fact, terror had reached that climax, that either my senses must have deserted me, or I must have burst through the spell.

I did burst through it.

I found voice, though the voice was a shriek. I remember that I broke forth with words like these, "I do not fear, my soul does not fear;" and at the same time I found strength to rise.

Still in that profound gloom I rushed to one of the windows; tore aside the curtain; flung open the shutters; my first thought was—LIGHT.

And when I saw the moon high, clear, and calm, I felt a joy that almost compensated for the previous terror. There was the moon, there was also the light from the gas-lamps in the deserted slumberous street. I turned to look back into the room; the moon penetrated its shadow very palely and partially,—but still there was light. The dark Thing, whatever it might be, was gone,—except that I could yet see a dim shadow, which seemed the shadow of that shade, against the opposite wall.


Entonces caí en la cuenta de que algo se interponía entre el libro y la luz; la página estaba ensombrecida. Alcé la vista y vi lo que me resultará muy difícil, quizá imposible, de describir.

Era una oscuridad que se delineaba repentinamente a sí misma en un contorno impreciso. No puedo decir que fuese una forma humana, y sin embargo tenía mayor semejanza con una forma humana, o una sombra más bien, que con cualquier otra cosa. Tal y como se erguía, separada y distinta del aire y la luz que la rodeaban, sus dimensiones parecían gigantescas; la cima casi tocaba el techo.

Al observar me embargó una sensación de intenso frío. No me habría helado tanto frente a un iceberg; ni tampoco el frío de un iceberg habría sido más puramente físico. Estoy seguro de que no se trataba del frío que ocasiona el pánico. Mientras observaba, creí distinguir -pero no puedo decirlo con exactitud- dos ojos que me acechaban desde lo alto. Por un momento me pareció verlos nítidamente, luego fue como si hubieran desaparecido; pero dos rayos de una luz pálida y azul destellaban a intervalos frecuentes en la oscuridad desde la misma altura a la que a medias creí y a medias dudé haber encontrado los ojos.

Traté de hablar; la voz me falló completamente. Sólo pude decirme a mí mismo: "¿Es esto miedo? ¡No es miedo!" Procuré levantarme, pero en vano; me sentía oprimido por una fuerza irresistible. Era como si un poder inmenso y aplastante se opusiera a mi deseo; esa sensación de incompetencia absoluta para lidiar con una fuerza mayor a la del hombre que uno puede experimentar físicamente durante una tormenta marina, en una conflagración o enfrentándose a alguna terrible bestia salvaje, o, mejor quizá, a un tiburón del océano, yo la sentí moralmente. Contraria a mi voluntad, había otra voluntad; y de una potencia tan superior a la mía como la tormenta, el fuego y el tiburón aventajan en fuerza física al hombre.

Y entonces, mientras esa impresión crecía en mí, llegó por fin el horror... Hasta tal grado que las palabras no lo podrían expresar. Conservé el orgullo, ya que no el coraje, y hablé para mis adentros: "Esto es horror, y no miedo; a no ser que tema, no pueden hacerme daño; mi razón rechaza esa cosa; es una ilusión, no tengo miedo".

Con un violento esfuerzo, logré por fin alargar la mano hacia el arma que había sobre la mesa; mientras lo hacía, recibí una extraña sacudida en el brazo y en el hombro, y el brazo me fue a caer impotente junto al costado. Luego, para añadir intensidad a mi horror, la luz de las velas empezó a menguar lentamente; no es que se consumieran de improviso, sino que las llamas parecieron alejarse de forma gradual. Lo mismo sucedió con el fuego, la luz fue separándose del combustible; pocos minutos después la habitación quedó en tinieblas.

El pavor que me sobrevino por estar en medio de la oscuridad con aquella cosa oscura, cuyo poder se percibía de modo tan intenso, dio pie a una reacción de valentía. Pues el terror había alcanzado ese clímax en el que, o bien mis sentidos habrían de abandonarme, o yo rompería el hechizo.

Y, en efecto, lo rompí.

Hallé voz, aunque mi voz fue un chillido. Recuerdo que estallé con palabras semejantes a estas: "No tengo miedo, mi alma no tiene miedo"; y a la vez tuve fuerzas para levantarme.

Aún entre aquella honda negrura, me precipité hacia una de las ventanas, rompí las cortinas y abrí de golpe las contraventanas; mi primer pensamiento fue: luz.

Y cuando vi la luna -alta, clara y serena- sentí un gozo que casi compensó el horror de antes. Había luna, y también había faroles de gas en la desierta y somnolienta calle. Me di la vuelta y miré la habitación; la luna invadía muy débil y parcialmente las tinieblas, pero daba luz. La cosa oscura, fuera lo que fuese, se había ido; salvo que aún se podía ver una tenue silueta, que parecía la sombra de aquella penumbra, contra la pared de enfrente.


Bulwer-Lytton, La casa y el cerebro (The Haunters and the Haunted or The House and the Brain)
Traducción de Arturo Agüero Herranz

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14 diciembre 2013

NIKKI CORVETTE AND THE ROMEOS


Nikki Corvette and The Romeos


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12 diciembre 2013

CONNIE CONVERSE



1. Talkin' Like You (Two Tall Mountains)
2. Johnny's Brother
3. Roving Woman
4. Down This Road
5. The Clover Saloon
6. John Brady
7. We Lived Alone
8. Playboy of the Western World
9. Unknown (A Little Louder, Love)
10. One by One
11. Father Neptune
12. Man in the Sky
13. Empty Pocket Waltz
14. Honeybee
15. There Is a Vine
16. How Sad, How Lovely
17. Trouble
18. I Have Considered the Lillies

Roving Woman (Connie Converse cover)
Nat Johnson, Emma Kupa & Katherine Jackson (aka Nat, John & Son)

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08 diciembre 2013

MOLLY DRAKE



01. Happiness
02. Little Weaver Bird
03. Cuckoo Time
04. Love Isn't a Right
05. Dream Your Dreams
06. How Wild the Wind Blows
07. What Can a Song Do to You?
08. I Remember
09. A Sound
10. Ballad
11. Woods in May
12. Night Is My Friend
13. Fine Summer Morning
14. Set Me Free
15. Breakfast at Bradenham Woods
16. Never Pine for the Old Love
17. Poor Mum
18. Do You Ever Remember?
19. The First Day

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29 noviembre 2013

ХОРОШО!



1. Электрон - Лучший город Земли
2. Аида Ведищева - Дорожная
3. Эмиль Горовец - Королева красоты
4. Эдита Пьеха - Хорошо!
5. Аида Ведищева - Песенка о медведях
6. Андрей Миронов - Остров невезения
7. Нина Бродская - Теряют люди друг друга
8. Валерий Золотухин - Разговор со счастьем
9. Аида Ведищева - Помоги мне
10. Александр Зацепин - В ресторане
11. Эдита Пьеха - Это здорово!
12. Мария Пахоменко - Стоят девчонки
13. Аида Ведищева - Песня о весне
14. Аккорд - Гарем
15. Эдита Пьеха - Туристы
16. Аида Ведищева - Я буду ждать тебя
17. Электрон - Вернись
18. Булат Окуджава, Саша Кавалеров - Капли датского короля
19. Павел Луспекаев - Ваше благородие
20. Владимир Качан - Песенка кавалергарда
21. Булат Окуджава - Песенка об открытой двери
22. Юрий Никулин - Песня про зайцев
23. Вячеслав Невинный - Губит людей вода
24. Новый Электрон - Мирза
25. Аида Ведищева - Всё равно ты будешь мой
26. Тамара Миансарова - Это очень хорошо!
27. Ансамбль Мещерина - Когда на улице мороз
28. Муслим Магомаев - Лучший город Земли


1. Elektrón - Luchshi górod Zemlí (La mejor ciudad de la Tierra)
2. Aída Vedíscheva - Dorózhnaia (De viaje)
3. Emil Górovets - Koroleva krasotí (Reina de la belleza)
4. Edita Pieja - Joroshó! (¡Bien!)
5. Aída Vedíscheva - Pésenka o medvédiaj (Cancioncilla de los osos)
6. Andréi Mirónov - Óstrov nevezenia (La isla de la desventura)
7. Nina Bródskaya - Teriáiut liudi drug druga (Las gentes se pierden unas de otras)
8. Valeri Zolotujin - Razgovor so schástem (Conversación con la felicidad)
9. Aída Vedíscheva - Pomoguí mne (Ayúdame)
10. Aleksandr Zatsepin - V restorane (En el restaurante)
11. Edita Pieja - Eto zdórovo! (¡Es estupendo!)
12. María Pajómenko - Stóiat devchonki (Las muchachitas están de pie)
13. Aída Vedíscheva - Pesnia o vesné (Canción de la primavera)
14. Akord - Garem (Harén)
15. Edita Pieja - Turisti (Turistas)
16. Aída Vedíscheva - Ya budu zhdat tebiá (Te esperaré)
17. Elektrón - Vernís (Regresa)
18. Bulat Okudzhava, Sacha Kavalérov - Kapli dátskogo koroliá (Gotas del rey danés)
19. Pável Luspekáiev - Vashe blagorodie (Vuestra señoría)
20. Vladímir Kachán - Pésenka kavalergarda (Cancioncilla del guardia de caballería)
21. Bulat Okudzhava - Pésenka ob otkrytoi dveri (Cancioncilla de la puerta abierta)
22. Yuri Nikulin - Pesnia pro záitsev (La canción de las liebres)
23. Viacheslav Nevinny - Gúbit liudéi vodá (A la gente la mata el agua)
24. Novy Elektrón - Mirza
25. Aída Vedíscheva - Vsio ravnó ty búdesh moi (De todas formas serás mío)
26. Tamara Miansárova - Eto ochen joroshó! (¡Está muy bien!)
27. Ansambl Meschérina - Kogdá na úlitse moroz (Cuando hiela en la calle)
28. Múslim Magomáyev - Luchshi górod Zemlí (La mejor ciudad de la Tierra)

*

En este recopilatorio he incluido algunas canciones rusas de los años sesenta. Pueden escuchar a intérpretes como Aída Vedíscheva, grupos instrumentales (Elektrón), canciones para el cine sobre poemas de Bulat Okudzhava y, también para el cine, músicas de Aleksandr Zatsepin, como las de estos videos.



Teriáiut liudi drug druga
Actriz: Natalia Selezniova. Canta: Nina Bródskaya
De la película Iván Vasílievich meniáet profesiu (Iván Vasílievich cambia de profesión, 1973)


Razgovor so schástem
Actor: Leonid Kuravliov. Canta: Valeri Zolotujin
De la película Iván Vasílievich meniáet profesiu (Iván Vasílievich cambia de profesión, 1973)

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17 noviembre 2013

THE MARVELETTES



1. So I Can Love You
2. Marionette
3. That's How Heartaches Are Made
4. A Breath Taking Guy
5. No More Tearstained Make Up
6. Uptown
7. Someday We'll Be Together
8. After All
9. Our Lips Just Seem To Rhyme Every Time
10. Fading Away
11. Take Me Where You Go
12. I'll Be In Trouble

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15 noviembre 2013

HENRI RIVIÈRE

Le coucher du soleil

Le port de Douarnenez

La plage

Paris vue de Montmartre

Les reflets

Voiliers sur la Laïta

Fuente: 1, 2, 3, 5 - 4 - 6

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25 octubre 2013

GO-GO'S



1. Vacation
2. He's So Strange
3. Girl of 100 Lists
4. We Don't Get Along
5. I Think It's Me
6. It's Everything But Partytime
7. Get Up and Go
8. This Old Feeling
9. Cool Jerk
10. The Way You Dance
11. Beatnik Beach
12. Worlds Away

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11 octubre 2013

FABIENNE DELSOL & THE BRISTOLS



1. Hanging on a String
2. Questions I Can't Answer
3. Baby I Got News for You
4. I'm Not a Bad Girl
5. Our Love Will Still Be There
6. Who Does She Think She Is?
7. For You
8. Baby Gene
9. Gonna Cry
10. The Beating of My Heart
11. The Way I Feel about You
12. I Got a Thing about You
13. I'll Be Gone Again
14. Can't You See That He's Mine

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26 septiembre 2013

FEATURE FILMS FROM THE INTERNET ARCHIVE (VIII)

https://archive.org/details/tokyomonogatari

https://archive.org/details/theblueangel1930

https://archive.org/details/ElCrimenDeLaCalleDeBordadoresEdgarNeville1946DVDRipByMifunex

https://archive.org/details/RobinsonCrusoe1954

https://archive.org/details/MorirEnMadridF.Rossif1962VHSripDivX5Mp3ByMantuaParaDivxClasico

https://archive.org/details/LieutenantKizhe1934Restored
https://archive.org/details/1931DerMannDerSeinenMoerderSucht

https://archive.org/details/1930Einbrecher
https://archive.org/details/TheCameraman

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01 septiembre 2013

KIRSTY MacCOLL



1. Walking Down Madison
2. All I Ever Wanted
3. Children Of The Revolution
4. Hallloween
5. My Affair
6. Lying Down
7. He Never Mentioned Love
8. We'll Never Pass This Way Again
9. The Hardest Word
10. Maybe It's Imaginary
11. My Way Home
12. The One And Only

13. Darling Let's Have Another Baby (Featuring Billy Bragg)
14. All The Tears That I Cried
15. Don't Go Near The Water
16. One Good Thing


1. Mambo De La Luna
2. In These Shoes?
3. Treachery
4. Here Comes That Man Again
5. Autumngirlsoup
6. Celestine
7. England 2 Colombia 0
8. Nao Esperando
9. Alegria
10. Us Amazonians
11. Wrong Again
12. Designer Life
13. Head

14. Golden Heart
15. Things Happen
16. Good For Me

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26 julio 2013

A VISTA, FURNESS ABBEY

Roger Fenton (1860)

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13 julio 2013

FEATURE FILMS FROM THE INTERNET ARCHIVE (VII)

https://archive.org/details/angel_on_my_shoulder

https://archive.org/details/made_for_each_other_film


https://archive.org/details/NothingSacredVideoQualityUpgrade

https://archive.org/details/I_Cover_the_Waterfront

https://archive.org/details/TheDanceOfLifeaugust161929

https://archive.org/details/1937DerMannDerSherlockHolmesWar

https://archive.org/details/1931DerBraveSuender

https://archive.org/details/TheManWhoLaughs1928

https://archive.org/details/PeterPan1924

https://archive.org/details/TheScarecrow1920

https://archive.org/details/TheHighSign

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05 julio 2013

LAURA CANTRELL



1. Not The Tremblin' Kind
2. Little Bit Of You
3. Queen Of The Coast
4. Pile Of Woe
5. Two Seconds
6. Churches Off The Interstate
7. The Whiskey Makes You Sweeter
8. Do You Ever Think Of Me
9. Big Wheel
10. My Heart Goes Out To You
11. Somewhere, Some Night
12. The Way It Is

Pile of Woe interpretada por su autor, Joe Flood:

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22 junio 2013

THE MARVELETTES



1. Barefootin'
2. Message to Michael
3. The Hunter Gets Captured by the Game
4. When You're Young and in Love
5. I Know Better
6. I Can't Turn Around
7. He Was Really Sayin' Something
8. The Day You Take One (You Have to Take the Other)
9. When I Need You
10. Keep Off, No Trespassing
11. Tonight Was Made for Love
12. I Need Someone

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18 junio 2013

AN OLD SCOTTISH BALLAD


Henry Raeburn
Portrait of Miss Eleanor Urquhart
(detail)

Franz Schubert

Marie McLaughlin, soprano
Thomas Hampson, baritone
Graham Johnson, piano

El poema en que se basa esta canción de Schubert apareció originalmente en Reliques of Ancient English Poetry, de Thomas Percy.

An Old Scottish Ballad

"Why does your brand so drop wi' blood,
Edward, Edward?
Why does your brand so drop wi' blood?
And why so sad gang ye, O?"
"O, I have killed my hawke so good,
Mother, mother,
O, I have killed my hawk so good,
And I had no more but he, O."

"Your hawk's blood was never so red,
Edward, Edward,
Your hawk's blood was never so red,
My dear son I tell thee, O."
"O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
Mother, mother,
O, I have killed my red-roan steed,
That erst was so fair and free, O."

"Your steed was old, and ye have got more,
Edward, Edward,
Your steed was old, and ye have got more,
Some other dole ye dree, O."
"O, I have killed my father dear,
Mother, mother,
O, I have killed my father dear,
Alas, and woe is me, O."

"And what penance will ye dree for that,
Edward, Edward?
And what penance will ye dree for that?
My dear son, now tell me, O."
"I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
Mother, mother,
I'll set my feet in yonder boat,
And I'll fare over the sea, O."

"And what will ye do with your towers and your hall,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye do with your towers and your hall,
That were so fair to see, O?"
"l'll let them stand till they down fall,
Mother, mother,
I'll let them stand till they down fall,
For here never more may I be, O."

"And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your bairns and your wife,
When ye gang over the sea, O?"
"The world's room, let them beg thro' life,
Mother, mother,
The world' room, let them beg thro' life,
For them never more will I see, O."

"And what will ye leave to your own mother dear,
Edward, Edward?
And what will ye leave to your own mother dear?
My dear son, now tell me, O."
"The curse of hell from me shall ye bear,
Mother, mother,
The curse of hell from me shall ye bear,
Such counsels ye gave to me, O."


Una antigua balada escocesa

"¿Por qué destila sangre de tu espada,
Edward, Edward?
¿Por qué destila sangre de tu espada?
¿Y por qué andas afligido?"
"He matado a mi halcón tan diestro,
Madre, madre,
He matado a mi halcón tan diestro,
El único que tenía."

"La sangre de tu halcón no era tan roja,
Edward, Edward,
La sangre de tu halcón no era tan roja,
Querido hijo, te lo aseguro."
"He matado a mi corcel roano,
Madre, madre,
He matado a mi corcel roano,
Que en otro tiempo fue hermoso y libre."

"Tu corcel estaba viejo, y tienes más,
Edward, Edward,
Tu corcel estaba viejo, y tienes más,
Algún otro pesar te angustia."
"He matado a mi padre querido,
Madre, madre,
He matado a mi padre querido,
Desdichado de mí."

"¿Y qué castigo sufrirás por ello,
Edward, Edward?
¿Y qué castigo sufrirás por ello?
Hijo querido, dímelo."
"Embarcaré en aquella nave,
Madre, madre,
Embarcaré en aquella nave
Y atravesaré el mar."

"¿Y qué harás con tu torre y tu mansión,
Edward, Edward?
¿Y qué harás con tu torre y tu mansión,
Que tan hermosas eran de ver?"
"Que sigan en pie hasta que se derrumben,
Madre, madre,
Que sigan en pie hasta que se derrumben,
Porque ya no puedo vivir aquí."

"¿Y qué dejarás a tus niños y a tu esposa,
Edward, Edward?
¿Y qué dejarás a tus niños y a tu esposa,
Cuando te hagas a la mar?"
"La habitación del mundo, para que mendiguen,
Madre, madre,
La habitación del mundo, para que mendiguen,
Porque nunca más los veré."

"¿Y qué dejarás a tu madre amada,
Edward, Edward?
¿Y qué dejarás a tu madre amada?
Querido hijo, dímelo."
"La maldición del infierno tendrás de mí,
Madre, madre,
La maldición del infierno tendrás de mí,
Tales fueron los consejos que me diste."

Traducción de Alan


Es en las últimas narraciones de Stevenson donde aparecen Catriona Drummond, Barbara Grant, Uma y Kokua y las dos Kirstie Elliot. Quizá puede añadirse este retrato de Raeburn.

Raeburn’s young women, to be frank, are by no means of the same order of merit. No one, of course, could be insensible to the presence of Miss Janet Suttie or Mrs. Campbell of Possil. When things are as pretty as that, criticism is out of season. But, on the whole, it is only with women of a certain age that he can be said to have succeeded, in at all the same sense as we say he succeeded with men. The younger women do not seem to be made of good flesh and blood. They are not painted in rich and unctuous touches. They are dry and diaphanous. And although young ladies in Great Britain are all that can be desired of them, I would fain hope they are not quite so much of that as Raeburn would have us believe. In all these pretty faces, you miss character, you miss fire, you miss that spice of the devil which is worth all the prettiness in the world; and what is worst of all, you miss sex. His young ladies are not womanly to nearly the same degree as his men are masculine; they are so in a negative sense; in short, they are the typical young ladies of the male novelist.

To say truth, either Raeburn was timid with young and pretty sitters; or he had stupefied himself with sentimentalities; or else (and here is about the truth of it) Raeburn and the rest of us labour under an obstinate blindness in one direction, and know very little more about women after all these centuries than Adam when he first saw Eve. This is all the more likely, because we are by no means so unintelligent in the matter of old women. There are some capital old women, it seems to me, in books written by men. And Raeburn has some, such as Mrs. Colin Campbell, of Park, or the anonymous “Old lady with a large cap,” which are done in the same frank, perspicacious spirit as the very best of his men. He could look into their eyes without trouble; and he was not withheld, by any bashful sentimentalism, from recognising what he saw there and unsparingly putting it down upon the canvas. But where people cannot meet without some confusion and a good deal of involuntary humbug, and are occupied, for as long as they are together, with a very different vein of thought, there cannot be much room for intelligent study nor much result in the shape of genuine comprehension. Even women, who understand men so well for practical purposes, do not know them well enough for the purposes of art. Take even the very best of their male creations, take Tito Melema, for instance, and you will find he has an equivocal air, and every now and again remembers he has a comb at the back of his head. Of course, no woman will believe this, and many men will be so very polite as to humour their incredulity.

R. L. Stevenson, 'Some Portraits by Raeburn' (Virginibus Puerisque and Other Papers)

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