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[morelightt]

"DEATH IS THE MOTHER OF BEAUTY"

- literary examples of death as tragic and beautiful in its terror

Ophelia, a beautiful, innocent girl created by Shakespeare, torn by emotions so much that in despair for her lost love, she throws herself into the arms of the river, drowning. This is clearly seen in Millais's painting. Despite her death, a young girl resists the influence of filthy water on the human body. Pale but healthy skin, rosy cheeks and pink lips desperately taking their last breath. A tragic moment captured in such a calm way. Ophelia remains forever beautiful and immortal in the eyes of the viewer.

"Perfume" by Patrick Süskind, a novel about a murderer who tries to capture the most beautiful smell. The smell of death in the form of perfume made from a young body. His victims are again little girls who die in a tragic, sometimes even parodic way, being brutally mercilessly harmed. But in the main character's eyes they still shine like stars in the sky, filling him with pure exhilaration. Especially that one woman who is his eternal inspiration.

Baudelaire creates something similar in the poem "the death of lovers". The couple on its deathbed is not concerned about the coming end. Their love seems to bloom even more, surrounded by fragrant flowers that fill their souls with peace and joy.

Finally, the story of Tristan and Isolde, another lovers, on whose grave a hawthorn grows. A symbol of their eternal love. From their dead bodies, corrupted by decay, something amazing in its beauty is created bearing witness to their everlasting connection.

It reminds me of the words of Edvard Munch: "From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity"

Writers, poets, whole literature itself create death in various ways. But showing it as a gateway to beauty is something particularly special. How death can it be glamorous, artistic and pleasing for our eyes. How to find it among tragedy, mourning, rotten skin and that disgusting smell of decay. And why show it this way at all?

"Because the world is so full of death and horror, I try again and again to console my heart and pick the flowers that grow in the midst of hell" - Hermann Hesse

[morelightt]

Everything died. Disappeared so quickly like this heavy, disturbing scent after a storm. Tragedy, pain, mourning. Sadness. This feeling that is so strong that once it takes root in your heart, it will only get rid of you when you dig and dig until you end up with this life giving organ torn from your body still desperately beating in agony in your hands. The remnants of emotions that were glowing like a cigarette butt to finally burn out for good. Deep breath. A new day is dawning. Fresh air filled with peace and quiet. Beautiful in its melancholy and nothingness.

Oh sweet sweet indifference...