martes, 23 de octubre de 2007

Más sobre el amor


13 comentarios:

  1. :)))))))))))))
    Me recuerda a un amante que tuve.
    Hacía lo mismo que esta buena señora con nosotras, incluida su mujer.
    Fue el amante que más me duro. Pero los sinvergüenzas es lo que tienen ;)

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  2. Señora nadha, yo nunca comprendí del todo la compleja mecánica del cierra de las esposas, ¿sería tan gentil de hacerme un croquis?

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  3. Estimadísima Nadha: A mi no me interesa tanto el mecanismo de las esposas como el de los esposados.

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  4. Acerca de esposados.

    "The man who makes a vow makes an appointment with himself at some distant time or place. The danger of it is that himself should not keep the appointment. And in modern times this terror of one's self, of the weakness and mutability of one's self, has perilously increased, and is the real basis of the objection to vows of any kind. A modern man refrains from swearing to count the leaves on every third tree in Holland Walk, not because it is silly to do so (he does many sillier things), but because he has a profound conviction that before he had got to the three hundred and seventy-ninth leaf on the first tree he would be excessively tired of the subject and want to go home to tea. In other words, we fear that by that time he will be, in the common but hideously significant phrase, another man. Now, it is this horrible fairy tale of a man constantly changing into other men that is the soul of the decadence.
    (...)
    The revolt against vows has been carried in our day even to the extent of a revolt against the typical vow of marriage. It is most amusing to listen to the opponents of marriage on this subject. They appear to imagine that the ideal of constancy was a yoke mysteriously imposed on mankind by the devil, instead of being, as it is, a yoke consistently imposed by all lovers on themselves. They have invented a phrase, a phrase that is a black and white contradiction in two words -- `free-love' -- as if a lover ever had been, or ever could be, free. It is the nature of love to bind itself, and the institution of marriage merely paid the average man the compliment of taking him at his word. Modern sages offer to the lover, with an ill-favoured grin, the largest liberties and the fullest irresponsibility; but they do not respect him as the old Church respected him; they do not write his oath upon the heavens, as the record of his highest moment. They give him every liberty except the liberty to sell his liberty, which is the only one that he wants.
    It is exactly this backdoor, this sense of having a retreat behind us, that is, to our minds, the sterlizing spirit in modern pleasure. Everywhere there is the persistent and insane attempt to obtain pleasure without paying for it. Thus, in politics the modern Jingoes practically say, `Let us have the pleasure of conquerors without the pains of soldiers: let us sit on sofas and be a hardy race.' Thus, in religion and morals, the decadent mystics say: `Let us have the fragrance of sacred purity without the sorrows of self-restraint; let us sing hymns alternately to the Virgin and Priapus.' Thus in love the free-lovers say: `Let us have the splendour of offering ourselves without the peril of committing ourselves; let us see whether one cannot commit suicide an unlimited number of times.'
    Emphatically it will not work. There are thrilling moments, doubtless, for the spectator, the amateur, and the aesthete; but there is one thrill that is known only to the soldier who fights for his own flag, to the aesthetic who starves himself for his own illumination, to the lover who makes finally his own choice. And it is this transfiguring self-discipline that makes the vow a truly sane thing. It must have satisfied even the giant hunger of the soul of a lover or a poet to know that in consequence of some one instant of decision that strange chain would hang for centuries in the Alps among the silences of stars and snows. All around us is the city of small sins, abounding in backways and retreats, but surely, sooner or later, the towering flame will rise from the harbour announcing that the reign of the cowards is over and a man is burning his ships."

    G.K. Chesterton
    A defence of rash vows

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  5. Que quede claro que no estoy dispuesto a romper ninguno de mis votos ni compromisos, don Claudio. Mi interés por los espesados es meramente especulativo. Aristóteles decía que la admiración es el comienzo de la filosofía. Y a él, aunque lo espolearon, no creo que lo esposaran.
    Aristóteles y Filis

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  6. Mirad lo que le pasó a aquella señora de la novela de Stephen King, que al marido le dio un síncope con la excitación y ella esposada y desposada mirando el fiambre. Vale más no hacer bromas.

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  7. ...bueno, más bien viuda que desposada.

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  8. desposado, da.
    (Del part. de desposar).
    1. adj. Recién casado. U. t. c. s.
    2. adj. Esposado, aprisionado con esposas.

    Cuanta sabiduría alberga la RAE. Aunque todo desposado sabe que es mucho más difícil de romper un anillo que unas esposas.

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  9. Todo lo que es imprescindible saber está ahí, don Arrebatos... sin embargo... quizás le falte una acepción...
    Desposado: Dícese del que le han dejado sin posos. De ahí ex-posos, ex-pósitos y ex-posición. ¡Santo Dios, si ya me estoy pareciendo a Enrri!

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  10. Creo que ninguno de Vds. se ha detenido en el final del vídeo, que necesariamente ha de tener algo que ver con las intenciones del autor. Como primer comentario, se me ocurre lo de las fluctuaciones caprichosas de la suerte, una vez que has dejado abierta la ventana de la imaginación.
    Descontando la teatralidad (no convincente) de la escena final: el segundo personaje masculino, que ayuda al desposado, de rodillas sobre él, no tendría por qué echarse, recostarse, encima del desposado. Nunca lo haría.
    Pero tampoco está mal como chiste.
    Saludos.

    Aker

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  11. Lope de Aguirre: verá, yo he sido esposada. Se pasa mal. En serio.
    También se pasa muy bien. Depende de quien es el que tenga las llaves... Brutal. Eso brutal. Luego he esposado por medios caseros. Vaya, que de esposas voy bien provista ¿Cómo le dibujo el croquis?

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  12. Dios los hace, y ellos se juntan...

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