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Delta De Venus Pdf

In Delta of Venus Ana?s Nin conjures up a glittering cascade of sexual encounters. Creating her own 'language of the senses', she explores an area that was. Delta of Venus by Anaïs Nin, February 15, , Pocket edition, Mass Market Paperback in English. Delta Of Venus Anais Nin - free full aracer.mobi book.

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Upcoming SlideShare. Like this presentation? Why not share! An annual anal Embed Size px. Start on. Show related SlideShares at end. He pulled it out. When the collector came in, Henry told him about this, laughing. It is all wonderful. But he likes it better when it is a narrative, just storytelling, no analysis, no philosophy. I felt I did not want to give anything genuine, and decided to create a mixture of stories I had heard and inventions, pretending they were from the diary of a woman.

I never met the collector. He was to read my pages and to let me know what he thought. Today I received a telephone call. But leave out the poetry and descriptions of anything but sex. Concentrate on sex. But there was no protest. Every morning after breakfast I sat down to write my allotment of erotica.

Leave out the poetry. Everyone was writing up their sexual experiences. Invented, overheard, researched from Krafft-Ebing and medical books. We had comical conversations. We told a story and the rest of us had to decide whether it was true or false.

DELTA OF VENUS EROTICA

Or plausible. Was this plausible? Robert Duncan would offer to experiment, to test our inventions, to confirm or negate our fantasies. All of us needed money, so we pooled our stories. I was sure the old man knew nothing about the beatitudes, ecstasies, dazzling reverberations of sexual encounters. Cut out the poetry was his message.

Clinical sex, deprived of all the warmth of love — the orchestration of all the senses, touch, hearing, sight, palate; all the euphoric accompaniments, background music, moods, atmosphere, variations — forced him to resort to literary aphrodisiacs.

We could have bottled better secrets to tell him, but such secrets he would be deaf to. But one day when he reached saturation, I would tell him how he almost made us lose interest in passion by his obsession with the gestures empty of their emotions, and how we reviled him, because he almost caused us to take vows of chastity, because what he wanted us to exclude was our own aphrodisiac — poetry.

I received one hundred dollars for my erotica. Gonzalo needed cash for the dentist, Helba needed a mirror for her dancing, and Henry money for his trip. Gonzalo told me the story of the Basque and Bijou and I wrote it down for the collector.

Delta Of Venus (February 15, edition) | Open Library

Everyone was writing up their sexual experiences. Invented, overheard, researched from Krafft-Ebing and medical books. We had comical conversations. We told a story and the rest of us had to decide whether it was true or false. Or plausible. Was this plausible? Robert Duncan would offer to experiment, to test our inventions, to confirm or negate our fantasies. All of us needed money, so we pooled our stories. I was sure the old man knew nothing about the beatitudes, ecstasies, dazzling reverberations of sexual encounters.

Cut out the poetry was his message. Clinical sex, deprived of all the warmth of love — the orchestration of all the senses, touch, hearing, sight, palate; all the euphoric accompaniments, background music, moods, atmosphere, variations — forced him to resort to literary aphrodisiacs. We could have bottled better secrets to tell him, but such secrets he would be deaf to.

But one day when he reached saturation, I would tell him how he almost made us lose interest in passion by his obsession with the gestures empty of their emotions, and how we reviled him, because he almost caused us to take vows of chastity, because what he wanted us to exclude was our own aphrodisiac — poetry.

I received one hundred dollars for my erotica. Gonzalo needed cash for the dentist, Helba needed a mirror for her dancing, and Henry money for his trip.

Gonzalo told me the story of the Basque and Bijou and I wrote it down for the collector. The net of economic difficulties was closing in on me. Everyone around me irresponsible, unconscious of the shipwreck. I did thirty pages of erotica.

I again awakened to the consciousness of being without a cent and telephoned the collector. Had he heard from his rich client about the last manuscript I sent? No, he had not, but he would take the one I had just finished and pay me for it. Henry had to see a doctor. Gonzalo needed glasses. Robert came with B. The soot from the transom window fell on my typing paper and on my work. Robert came and took away my box of typing paper.

I will send her a big present, a big check for all the writing she has done. With a hundred dollars in my pocket I recovered my optimism.

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