Two down, one to go. Then I really shall be alone.
I saw a programme about Edward Elgar tonight. The last great
passionate love of his life (and who reciprocated his feelings) was a woman
forty years his junior. Similar story with Ralph Vaughan Williams and TS
Elliot. Ah, but that was in the days before sex suffered the indignity of being devalued from a physical
need driven by a biological imperative to a matter of mere recreation. To my
mind, it’s neither; it resides on a level infinitely more rarefied than both. Maybe
Messrs Elgar, Vaughan Williams and Elliot were of the same opinion.
And maybe my peculiar sensibilities in that regard are yet
one more side effect of living outside the tram lines of a drab culture.
No comments:
Post a Comment