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Twilight in Italy

Om Twilight in Italy

TWILIGHT IN ITALY A new edition of the travel book that D.H. Lawrence wrote about his travels in Germany, Italy and the Alps. Twilight In Italy is one of Lawrence's most lyrical and upbeat books, an enchanting account of travelling around Europe. Illustrated with paintings by J.M.W. Turner. Hardcover edition. www.crmoon.com EXTRACT FROM THE PASSAGE WHERE D.H. LAWRENCE IS AT LAKE GARDA I went into the church. It was very dark, and impregnated with centuries of incense. It affected me like the lair of some creature. My senses were roused, they sprang awake in the spiced darkness. My skin was expectant, as if it expected some contact, some embrace, as if it were aware of the contiguity of the physical world, the physical contact with the darkness and the heavy, suggestive substance of the enclosure. It was a thick, fierce darkness of the senses. But my soul shrank. I went out again. The pavemented threshold was clear as a jewel, the marvellous clarity of sunshine that becomes blue in the height seemed to distil me into Across, the heavy mountain crouched along the side of the lake, the upper half brilliantly white, belonging to the sky, the lower half dark and grim. So, then, that is where heaven and earth are divided.

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  • Språk:
  • Engelska
  • ISBN:
  • 9781861714930
  • Format:
  • Inbunden
  • Sidor:
  • 220
  • Utgiven:
  • 31. december 2014
  • Utgåva:
  • 2
  • Mått:
  • 234x156x14 mm.
  Fri leverans
Leveranstid: 2-4 veckor
Förväntad leverans: 16. december 2024

Beskrivning av Twilight in Italy

TWILIGHT IN ITALY
A new edition of the travel book that D.H. Lawrence wrote about his travels in Germany, Italy and the Alps. Twilight In Italy is one of Lawrence's most lyrical and upbeat books, an enchanting account of travelling around Europe.
Illustrated with paintings by J.M.W. Turner. Hardcover edition.

www.crmoon.com
EXTRACT FROM THE PASSAGE WHERE D.H. LAWRENCE IS AT LAKE GARDA
I went into the church. It was very dark, and impregnated with centuries of incense. It affected me like the lair of some creature. My senses were roused, they sprang awake in the spiced darkness. My skin was expectant, as if it expected some contact, some embrace, as if it were aware of the contiguity of the physical world, the physical contact with the darkness and the heavy, suggestive substance of the enclosure. It was a thick, fierce darkness of the senses. But my soul shrank.
I went out again. The pavemented threshold was clear as a jewel, the marvellous clarity of sunshine that becomes blue in the height seemed to distil me into Across, the heavy mountain crouched along the side of the lake, the upper half brilliantly white, belonging to the sky, the lower half dark and grim. So, then, that is where heaven and earth are divided.

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