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Nina Auerbach | Our Vampires, Ourselves

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“The CAUSE OF DEATH was as follows: Exhaustion of Melancholia”

(1923 death certificate from New Brunswick, Canada)

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Westminster Abbey’s library (with bonus portrait of William of Orange). 

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Adonis .

The mortal lover, born of beauty and desire.

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This is the world, friend, where they have money for war but can’t feed the poor.

— Mosab Abu Toha, et al, from "Ceasefire Cento," published by Vox Populi

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It wasn't that Ridcully was stupid. Truly stupid wizards have the life expectancy of a glass hammer. He had quite a powerful intellect, but it was powerful like a locomotive, and ran on rails and was therefore almost impossible to steer.

Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies

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DESCRIBING THE PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES OF CHARACTERS:

Body

descriptors; ample, athletic, barrel-chested, beefy, blocky, bony, brawny, buff, burly, chubby, chiseled, coltish, curvy, fat, fit, herculean, hulking, lanky, lean, long, long-legged, lush, medium build, muscular, narrow, overweight, plump, pot-bellied, pudgy, round, skeletal, skinny, slender, slim, stocky, strong, stout, strong, taut, toned, wide.

Eyebrows

descriptors; bushy, dark, faint, furry, long, plucked, raised, seductive, shaved, short, sleek, sparse, thin, unruly.

shape; arched, diagonal, peaked, round, s-shaped, straight.

Ears

shape; attached lobe, broad lobe, narrow, pointed, round, square, sticking-out.

Eyes

colour; albino, blue (azure, baby blue, caribbean blue, cobalt, ice blue, light blue, midnight, ocean blue, sky blue, steel blue, storm blue,) brown (amber, dark brown, chestnut, chocolate, ebony, gold, hazel, honey, light brown, mocha, pale gold, sable, sepia, teakwood, topaz, whiskey,) gray (concrete gray, marble, misty gray, raincloud, satin gray, smoky, sterling, sugar gray), green (aquamarine, emerald, evergreen, forest green, jade green, leaf green, olive, moss green, sea green, teal, vale).

descriptors; bedroom, bright, cat-like, dull, glittering, red-rimmed, sharp, small, squinty, sunken, sparkling, teary.

positioning/shape; almond, close-set, cross, deep-set, downturned, heavy-lidded, hooded, monolid, round, slanted, upturned, wide-set.

Face

descriptors; angular, cat-like, hallow, sculpted, sharp, wolfish.

shape; chubby, diamond, heart-shaped, long, narrow, oblong, oval, rectangle, round, square, thin, triangle.

Facial Hair

beard; chin curtain, classic, circle, ducktail, dutch, french fork, garibaldi, goatee, hipster, neckbeard, old dutch, spade, stubble, verdi, winter.

clean-shaven

moustache; anchor, brush, english, fu manchu, handlebar, hooked, horseshoe, imperial, lampshade, mistletoe, pencil, toothbrush, walrus.

sideburns; chin strap, mutton chops.

Hair

colour; blonde (ash blonde, golden blonde, beige, honey, platinum blonde, reddish blonde, strawberry-blonde, sunflower blonde,) brown (amber, butterscotch, caramel, champagne, cool brown, golden brown, chocolate, cinnamon, mahogany,) red (apricot, auburn, copper, ginger, titain-haired,), black (expresso, inky-black, jet black, raven, soft black) grey (charcoal gray, salt-and-pepper, silver, steel gray,), white (bleached, snow-white).

descriptors; bedhead, dull, dry, fine, full, layered, limp, messy, neat, oily, shaggy, shinny, slick, smooth, spiky, tangled, thick, thin, thinning, tousled, wispy, wild, windblown.

length; ankle length, bald, buzzed, collar length, ear length, floor length, hip length, mid-back length, neck length, shaved, shoulder length, waist length.

type; beach waves, bushy, curly, frizzy, natural, permed, puffy, ringlets, spiral, straight, thick, thin, wavy.

Hands; calloused, clammy, delicate, elegant, large, plump, rough, small, smooth, square, sturdy, strong.

Fingernails; acrylic, bitten, chipped, curved, claw-like, dirty, fake, grimy, long, manicured, painted, peeling, pointed, ragged, short, uneven.

Fingers; arthritic, cold, elegant, fat, greasy, knobby, slender, stubby.

Lips/Mouth

colour (lipstick); brown (caramel, coffee, nude, nutmeg,) pink (deep rose, fuchsia, magenta, pale peach, raspberry, rose, ) purple (black cherry, plum, violet, wine,) red (deep red, ruby.)

descriptors; chapped, cracked, dry, full, glossy, lush, narrow, pierced, scabby, small, soft, split, swollen, thin, uneven, wide, wrinkled.

shape; bottom-heavy, bow-turned, cupid’s bow, downturned, oval, pouty, rosebud, sharp, top-heavy.

Nose

descriptors; broad, broken, crooked, dainty, droopy, hooked, long, narrow, pointed, raised, round, short, strong, stubby, thin, turned-up, wide.

shape; button, flared, grecian, hawk, roman.

Skin

descriptors; blemished, bruised, chalky, clear, dewy, dimpled, dirty, dry, flaky, flawless, freckled, glowing, hairy, itchy, lined, oily, pimply, rashy, rough, sagging, satiny, scarred, scratched, smooth, splotchy, spotted, tattooed, uneven, wrinkly.

complexion; black, bronzed, brown, dark, fair, ivory, light, medium, olive, pale, peach, porcelain, rosy, tan, white.

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The Pump of DeathBy the gentle author

Watch these guys pump water. They seem unaware they are in the presence of the notorious “Pump of Death” In 1876, the water began to taste strange and was found to contain liquid human remains which had seeped into the underground stream from cemeteries.Several hundred people died in the resultant Aldgate Pump Epidemic as a result of drinking polluted water – though this was obviously a distant memory by the nineteen twenties when Whittard’s tea merchants used to “always get the kettles filled at the Aldgate Pump so that only the purest water was used for tea tasting.”Yet before it transferred to a supply from the New River Company of Islington, the spring water of the Aldgate Pump was appreciated by many for its abundant health-giving mineral salts, until – in an unexpectedly horrific development – it was discovered that the calcium in the water had leached from human bones.This bizarre phenomenon quickly entered popular lore, so that a bouncing cheque was referred to as “a draught upon Aldgate Pump,” and in rhyming slang “Aldgate Pump” meant to be annoyed – “to get the hump.” The terrible revelation confirmed widespread morbid prejudice about the East End, of which Aldgate Pump was a landmark defining the beginning of the territory. The “Pump of Death” became emblematic of the perceived degradation of life in East London and it was once declared with superlative partiality that “East of Aldgate Pump, people cared for nothing but drink, vice and crime.”Today this sturdy late-eighteenth century stone pump stands sentinel as the battered reminder of a former world, no longer functional, and lost amongst the traffic and recent developments of the modern City. No-one notices it anymore and its fearsome history is almost forgotten, despite the impressive provenance of this dignified ancient landmark, where all mileages East of London are calculated. Even in the old photographs you can trace how the venerable pump became marginalised, cut down and ultimately ignored. Aldgate Well was first mentioned in the thirteenth century – in the reign of King John – and referred to by sixteenth century historian, John Stowe, who described the execution of the Bailiff of Romford on the gibbet “near the well within Aldgate.” In “The Uncommercial Traveller,” Charles Dickens wrote, “My day’s business beckoned me to the East End of London, I had turned my face to that part of the compass… and had got past Aldgate Pump.” And before the “Pump of Death” incident, Music Hall composer Edgar Bateman nicknamed “The Shakespeare of Aldgate Pump,” wrote a comic song in celebration of Aldgate Pump – including the lyric line “I never shall forget the gal I met near Aldgate Pump…”The pump was first installed upon the well head in the sixteenth century, and subsequently replaced in the eighteenth century by the gracefully tapered and rusticated Portland stone obelisk that stands today with a nineteenth century gabled capping. The most remarkable detail to survive to our day is the elegant brass spout in the form of a wolf’s head – still snarling ferociously in a vain attempt to maintain its “Pump of Death” reputation – put there to signify the last of these creatures to be shot outside the City of London.Tantalisingly, the brass button that controls the water outlet is still there, yet, although it is irresistible to press it, the water ceased flowing in the last century. A drain remains beneath the spout where the stone is weathered from the action of water over centuries and there is an elegant wrought iron pump handle – enough details to convince me that the water might return one day.

https://spitalfieldslife.com/2011/03/09/the-pump-of-death/

Nudes & Noises

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If I was bound for hell, let it be hell. No more false heavens. No more damned magic. You hate me and I hate you. We’ll see who hates best. But first, first I will destroy your hatred. Now. My hate is colder, stronger, and you’ll have no hate to warm yourself. You will have nothing.

Jean Rhys, from Wide Sargasso Sea, 1966

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London Terror: Prologue

prologue

London, 1891

As dusk began to settle on the cobbles, Paul Northey and a fleet of lamplighters swarmed the streets of London in the moments just before the city was overtaken by night.

Mr. Northey approached his final lamp, which sat in direct view of "The Pink Lady," a tavern and inn notorious for its nighttime activities. A stream of gas flowed into the lamp as Mr. Northey flipped the final lever with the end of his pole. He hummed quietly to himself as he lit the wad of cotton on the other end of his stick with a match and a block of red phosphorus. Finally, he rose the flame to the lamps-open glass casing, and the smell of burning gas that berated his senses filled him with a sense of satisfaction that distracted him from the general filth around him as the first mantle ignited.

He raked his pole against the pavement as he turned around a bend in the cobbles. The buildings towered overhead, scaffolding and brickwork not as perfect or ornate as the finer parts of the city; Bow Street was a vulgar place that made up a small sector of Ivory Row, which was only a step or two above the London slums. Candles and gas lamps were left lit on the windowsill of several accommodations, and as he passed under a stretch of apartments, he was reminded of Bow Street's notorious reputation.

A woman seized him by his arm. Her painted lips pulled back into a sultry grin that revealed her tarnished teeth. "You look tired," she cooed, her fingers trailing the breast of his coat, eager to wind themselves into his coffers.

She was close enough now to whisper in his ear. Paul noticed that the fabric of her dress was pinstriped and worn. She was clad in all black except for her stockings and innermost underskirt. She looked more like a lady in mourning than a prostitute, he thought.

Her gown was hitched at her hip, revealing the length of her thigh and her petticoat, the purple fabric not as vibrant or florid as the silks worn by the women who catered to London's wealthier clientele. Her stockings resembled silk, and like her skirt, the fabric was ragged and torn in several places, although he imagined at one point they were of the highest finery.

His eyes found themselves besotted with the pale flesh of her throat, the way her skin glistened under the gaslight, and the sweat and the soot that took residence upon her small frame enticed him, and he wondered what her throat would look like; choked by the fabric of his scarf. To feel her breath, her life, slip through his fingers and past the parting of her painted lips.

She dared to reach out and trail a blazing hand up the length of his chest, her yellowed nails catching the buttons of his coat as her hand made its way to rest at the base of his neck. "I-I'm sorry," He stuttered, pushing her away. "I must be going."

And as he slipped off into the night, he tumbled with his own mind as he staved off desires far darker than he could ever imagine.

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— Clarice Lispector, Near to the Wild Heart

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"The golden gates of Heaven At each moment cometh at a Price."

T.H. Ballard from "The Beggar's Coin."

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This is a fashion blog now

Elie Saab Fall 2008 Haute Couture

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Something about the depiction of animals in period clothes is so interesting. I love art.

Unfortunately I was unable to identify the Original Artists for this painting. If anyone knows, or can help find them I’d greatly appreciate it.

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Poets are the painters of human experience, capturing the colors of their heart in verse.

— agelesslibrary

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Mood Board: ii

The Art of Dying by T.H. Ballard

Set during World War II-era London, a group of young men traverse the storm that is the transition from adolescence to adulthood. Only life is made harder by the war and together, they must learn to adapt or risk being lost.

Coming Soon