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[l832]

THE TERROR | 1.06 "A mercy"

[l832]

Mirror reflections in THE TERROR (2018)

[l832]

guy from les mis was so right like. who am i?

[l832]

Incredibly funny passages in the convent chapters but ”Old Fauchelevent winked with an indescribable air” might be one of the funniest to me. How the fuck did he look.

[l832]

hey man can i come over and be sickly in the corner of your living room

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The apartment was deserted, and nothing was stirring in it. Nevertheless, by dint of gazing intently he thought he perceived on the ground something which appeared to be covered with a winding-sheet, and which resembled a human form. This form was lying face downward, flat on the pavement, with the arms extended in the form of a cross, in the immobility of death. One would have said, judging from a sort of serpent which undulated over the floor, that this sinister form had a rope round its neck. The whole chamber was bathed in that mist of places which are sparely illuminated, which adds to horror.

Jean Valjean often said afterwards, that, although many funereal spectres had crossed his path in life, he had never beheld anything more blood-curdling and terrible than that enigmatical form accomplishing some inexplicable mystery in that gloomy place, and beheld thus at night. It was alarming to suppose that that thing was perhaps dead; and still more alarming to think that it was perhaps alive.

— Les Misérables, II.V.VII Illustrated by Adriano Minardi (Italian Edition, 1930)

[l832]

I love how the first thing Fauchelevent says to Valjean in the convent is a stock pickup line:

"Did you fall from heaven? There is no trouble about that: if ever you do fall, it will be from there."

It's just like

Valjean: *terrified, panicking, not sure where he is, and having an emotional breakdown over Cosette nearly dying* Fauchelevent: Did you fall from heaven? bc baby.....ur an angel <3

[l832]

Which do you prefer?

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Cosette, Marius and Éponine

I’M almost doneee *cries a river* In the end, I love Éponine too much to not include her so… 

[l832]

hanif abqurraqib // full text under cut

(tw suicide)

Brief Notes On Staying // No One Is Making Their Best Work When They Want To Die

I don't mean sadness as much as I mean the obsession with it. Once, on the wrong edge of a bridge, a boy I knew who played songs let his feet slip off. I found a tape of his after he was gone, and the music sounded sweeter, or at least I told myself it did. What I really want to do is say that life is impossible, and the lie we tell ourselves is that it is too short. Life, if anything, is too long. We accumulate too much along the way. Too many heartbreaks, too many funerals, too many physical setbacks. It's a miracle any of us survive at all. I know that I stopped thinking about extreme grief as the sole vehicle for great art when the grief started to take people with it.

And I get it. The tortured artist is the artist that gets remembered for all time, particularly if they either perish or overcome. But the truth is that so many of us are stuck in the middle. So many of us begin tortured and end tortured, with only brief bursts of light in between, and I'd rather have average art and survival than miracles that come at the cost of someone's life. There will always be something great and tragic to celebrate and I am wondering, now, if I've had enough. I am, of course, in favor of letting all grief work through the body and manifest itself creatively. But what I'm less in favor of is the celebration of pain that might encourage someone to mine deeper into that unforgiving darkness, until it is impossible for them to climb out. I'm less in favor of anything that hurts and then becomes theater, if that theater isn't also working to heal the person experiencing pain. I, too, am somewhat obsessed with watching creations that feel like work. I am less drawn to the artist who at least appears to make it look easy. But our best work is the work of ourselves, our bodies and the people who want us to keep pushing, even if the days are long and miserable and even if there are moments when the wrong side of the bridge beckons you close. All things do not pass. Sometimes, that which does not kill you sits heavy over you until all of the things that did not kill you turn into a single counterforce that might. No matter what comes out of a person in these times, the work that we make when we feel like we no longer want to be alive is not the best work if it is also not work that, little by little, is pushing us back toward perhaps staying, even if just for a moment.

What I'm mostly saying, friends, is that I've lost too much. And everything sounds good when you know it was the last thing a person would ever make. All of the words sit more perfect on the page when they are the last words. What I'm mostly saying, friends, is that I am sad today. I am sad today, and I may be sad tomorrow. But I watched a video where rappers hung out of the roof of a car and threw money in slow motion, and it made me briefly consider another type of freedom. I am sad today, but I held, in my hands, a picture of me on a day where I was not sad. In it, the sunlight leaked over my face in a city I love, and my eyes were wide and eager. I am sad yesterday, and I might be sad tomorrow, and even the day after. But I will be here, looking for a way out, every time.

Staying is not always a choice, and I have lived and lost enough to know that. But the way I think about grief is that it is the great tug-of-war, and sometimes the flag is on the side you don't want it to be on. And sometimes, the game has exhausted all of its joy, and all that's left is you on your knees. But, today, even though I am sad, my hands are still on the rope. I am making my best work when my hands are on the rope, even if I'm not pulling back. Life is too long, despite the cliché. Too long, and sometimes too painful. But I imagine I have made it too far. I imagine, somewhere around some corner, the best part is still coming.

(from They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us)

[l832]

Combeferre infodumping to Enjolras about whichever branch of science he's most recently developed an interest in my beloved

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Silk Taffeta Day Dress, c. 1837-1838

Cora Ginsburg

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Not to sound Romantic or anything, but I too have a striking fascination with the irrational, the demonic and the grotesque.

[l832]

ok im really curious do you guys have books you consider your "white whale"? as in books you keep telling yourself oh yeah i really want to read that, but you keep not reading it?

[l832]

It's finally time to reveal my piece for @palimpsestzine!

This was the first zine I ever participated in and I couldn't have asked for a better experience. A group of amazing and lovely artists coming together for a great project <3

If you haven't yet, go check out the full zine on itch.io! Donations will be open until the end of the month and all funds will go to Librarians and Archivists with Palestine. You'll be able to access some extra content and find out about the creative process behind it, too!

[l832]

so many posts on here about dog coded characters and yet none of them can truthfully be tagged as javert despite his being insanely dog coded bc unfortunately they all assume certain positive characteristics he simply doesn't possess

[l832]

Paul Gavarni, L'Artiste: Far-Niente ("the artist doing nothing"), 1835.