I am a handful of rich black mud—a fool-woman, fool’s mud.
All on earth that I need to do is to lie still in the hot sun and feel the pig rolling and floundering and sloshing about. It were folly to waste my mud-nerves in wondering. Be quiet, fool-woman, let things be. Your soul is a fool’s-mud soul and is governed by the pig; your heart is a fool’s-mud heart and wants nothing beyond the pig; your life is a fool’s-mud life, and is the pig’s life.
Something within me shrieks now, but I do not know what it is, nor why it shrieks.
It groans and moans.
There is no satisfaction in being a fool—no satisfaction at all.
—Mary MacLane, I Await the Devil’s Coming. Tell me this isn’t among the most radical books of the last century. Published in 1902 and next month.
- caitrionalaoise likes this
- palequeenliteraryquotes likes this
- fuguewriter reblogged this from melvillehouse
- fuguewriter likes this
- plornamban likes this
- whatyouloveandlet likes this
- bobthebeau reblogged this from melvillehouse
- bobthebeau likes this
- bitethebolster likes this
- spiderlingus likes this
- brachycephalic reblogged this from taipeinumber1
- cat-mouth likes this
- achesalittletune reblogged this from taipeinumber1
- lagranevasion likes this
- abstrackafricana likes this
- ktvngr likes this
- hack3 likes this
- majimanidoo reblogged this from melvillehouse
- marginalutilite likes this
- georgekirrin likes this
- snpsnpsnp likes this
- carpentrix likes this
- alwaysalreadyangry reblogged this from melvillehouse
- kellyjford reblogged this from melvillehouse
- unjustlyunread likes this
- melvillehouse posted this