Hans Bellmer / Study for Bataille's Story of the Eye

We did not lack modesty — on the contrary — but something urgently drove us to defy modesty together as immodestly as possible.

Georges Bataille, Story of the Eye

story of the eye, georges bataille

sick of sicko gentrification. mutuals, vetted in-laws even, what is your required sicko reading/watching/playing material? sicko syllabus, if you will. reblogs encouraged. for now

… part of the starry sky was visible. And it struck me that death was the sole outcome of my erection, and if Simone and I were killed, then the universe of our unbearable personal vision was certain to be replaced by the pure stars, fully unrelated to any external gazes and realising in a cold state, without human delays or detours, something that strikes me as the goal of my sexual licentiousness: a geometric incandescence (among other things, the coinciding point of life and death, being and nothingness), perfectly fulgurating.

— Georges Bataille, from Story of the Eye

Mistakes were made. During the highs of a good story, I made a book purchase with reckless abandon. Not wanting to be bested by a novella, I’ve paid the price.

The description said it plain as day in black and white, “a classic of pornographic literature.” ALWAYS read the description (and maybe some reviews too).

It’s not that I’m a prude; it’s just that this book wasn’t good. I was hopeful at points, but those parts get ruined with unnecessary kink.

Also, the author overused the “C” word. Like, a lot. Get a thesaurus, my dude, and thanks for ruining one of my favorite vulgarities.

In short, don’t waste your time.

shout out to mcnally jackson employee sarah g

you know what i was so real for this

the common isolation of lewdness, weariness, and absurdity.

the first porn book I ever read was Story of the Eye by Georges Bataille. my friends in high school gave it to me. I read it not knowing what the fuck was going to happen. it was a wild ride. when I returned it they told me they were just lending it to everyone as some sort of prank. thinking back on it, it was fairly fucked up, but also hilarious

To others, the universe seems decent because decent people have gelded eyes. That is why they fear lewdness. They are never frightened by the crowing of a rooster or when strolling under a starry heaven. In general, people savor the “pleasures of the flesh” only on condition that they be insipid. But as of then, no doubt existed for me: I did not care for what is known as “pleasures of the flesh” because they really are insipid; I cared only for what is classified as “dirty.” On the other hand, I was not even satisfied with the usual debauchery, because the only thing it dirties is debauchery itself, while, in some way or other, anything sublime and perfectly pure is left intact by it. My kind of debauchery soils not only my body and my thoughts, but also anything I may conceive in its course, that is to say, the vast starry universe, which merely serves as a backdrop.

Jane Birkin state of mind

Read the Story of the Eye and it's a completely infantile novel, not in the sense that it's transgressive and mentions a lot of butts and peepee, more like jamming a fork into an electrical socket.

kinkshaming Bataille on main

That was the period when Simone developed a mania for breaking eggs with her behind.

— Georges Bataille, from Story of the Eye [1928.] 🥚