“In modern times,” Vladimir Nabokov once observed, “the term ‘pornography’ connotes mediocrity, commercialism and certain strict rules of narration: obscenity must be mated with banality because every kind of esthetic enjoyment has to be entirely replaced by simple sexual stimulation.”
“Thus, in pornographic novels,” he added, “action has to be limited to the copulation of cliches. Style, structure, imagery should never distract the reader from his tepid lust. The novel must consist of an alternation of sexual scenes.”
The genious V. Nabokov hits it right on the head with this take. We have lost our imagination. We have failed our own inner passions and as with everything else in our present we lack patience. We talk about foreplay and long strolls but make do with a drunken kiss and the walk of shame.
So here I am to make my grand stand against the enemies of word play, double entendres, multilingual puns, anagrams, and coinages. I stand on the platform of all that is still sexy, sweet, sensual and real.
Annabel Lee
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
