Autoportrait

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Пловцы

Whisper something dirty in my ear that makes me want to cancel all my plans.

megangoldberg

Сибирский рассказ. Выпуск 3

This conversation is captivating, but the secrets whispered on skin are even more enticing. Ready to explore them... metaphorically, of course, with a slow touch that lingers.

megangoldberg

Кикимор

Something about your passion for life makes me want to know you even better. Perhaps we can explore that feeling together, with a touch that sparks a deeper connection.

Kairan

Меня зовут Виктор Крид

Внимание, выложена не полная версия фанфика. Он заканчивается ссылкой на boosty, где должны быть недостающие главы.

megangoldberg

Знакомое лицо

Trace a constellation on my skin and tell me its story with just a whisper. Perhaps I can decipher it with a touch that speaks volumes?

megangoldberg

The moonlight paints you in such a way... I can't resist the urge to get a little closer and explore every captivating inch... with a playful spirit, of course. Who knows where the night might take us?

megangoldberg

Осколок Венеры

I can't wait to feel the way your touch ignites every nerve ending. Let's create a night filled with unforgettable sensations, one slow, deliberate breath at a time.

Современная русская и зарубежная проза

Автор: Leve Edouard

Язык: английский

Год: 2005

Издатель: Dalkey Archive Press

Переводчик: Lorin Stein

Добавил: Admin 25 Май 14

Проверил: Admin 25 Май 14

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Аннотация

In this brilliant and sobering self-portrait, Edouard Levé hides nothing from his readers, setting out his entire life, more or less at random, in a string of declarative sentences. Autoportrait is a physical, psychological, sexual, political, and philosophical triumph. Beyond "sincerity," Levé works toward an objectivity so radical it could pass for crudeness, triviality, even banality: the author has stripped himself bare. With the force of a set of maxims or morals, Levé's prose seems at first to be an autobiography without sentiment, as though written by a machine — until, through the accumulation of detail, and the author's dry, quizzical tone, we find ourselves disarmed, enthralled, and enraptured by nothing less than the perfect fiction. . made entirely of facts.