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  1. Psycho (1960): I'll start out by saying, "Nope. Not that one. Nope. Not that one either."

    Of course, those are two of the most talked-about scenes in cinema history (I mean the shower scene and the reveal of Mrs. Bates at the end), but I refer to a scene that happens near the end when Lila Crane explores the Bates residence. She stands at Mrs. Bates' dresser and looks over her accessories only to glance up at vanity mirror to find that she is not alone in the room. Someone is behind her!

    A second later she figures out she has seen her reflection in a large mirror behind her--she frightened herself.

    One way to see that iconic house on the hill is as an allegory into Norman's troubled psyche: in the background as Lila Crane makes her way room-by-room, you see piles of old toys cluttered about, a mother's room kept in pristine condition, and, as shown in various scenes throughout the film, Norman's overbearing, dominating mother occupying the attic at the top floor.

    But... when she sees the figure behind her, we briefly enter her psyche: what she sees is that unknown dark side that resides in all of us, hiding away in the corner where we can't see it. We then realize that a bad childhood may separate us from becoming just like Norman Bates.

    One of the many reasons I love Halloween: we can acknowledge and even propitiate the dark unknown within ourselves. So put on some Misfits, eat a bunch of candy, watch nightmare-inducing horror movies and have a Happy Halloween.
  2. We lost a great actress this week, Maureen O'Hara*. The fiery redhead's storied career spans over fifty years, including beloved classics (to name only a few) like The Quiet Man, Miracle on 34th Street, The Parent Trap, and an grossly-overlooked role in Only the Lonely (1990).

    She is best remembered for starring opposite of John Wayne in a series of John Ford films (The Quiet Man considered the best of them). The legendary pairing usually featured the clash between two indomitable wills with Wayne mostly winning out but not without O'Hara getting in some witty comebacks. She would show this stubborn zeal in other memorable films, but at times still showed an impressive range of acting talent. I will end this post with a quote from John Wayne, "I’ve had many friends, and I prefer the company of men, except for Maureen O’Hara. She is a great guy.”

    *I'm sure INCspot can tell you more than I can about her (definitely check out his blog).
  3. I haven't watched pro wrestling since I was a kid, but I have always had a respect for their athleticism and toughness.

    Even so, I always loved Roddy Piper. The Canadian-born wrestler had been part of the 1st Wrestlemania and fought in the main event in a tag-team match against Hulk Hogan and Mr T ("Mr. Wonderful" Paul Orndorf had been his partner). He also had a segment known as "Piper's Pit" where he'd mock other wrestlers and get in a cheap shot or two (well, more of a beat-down). The WWE owes a lot to him for their early success.

    Outside of the ring this "bad" guy turned out to be a good actor. Best known for "They Live", his movie career never become nothing more than a list of B movies. I'm sure he had a blast doing them and though I haven't seen most of the movies on his IMDB page, I'm sure he makes them more enjoyable then they had any right to be.

    He was a charming, funny, and charismatic guy who will truely be missed.

    Also, the man was no chicken:

  4. This is an excerpt from my novel, The Noise of Endless Wars. To set some background for the scene: the character, known as E.Z., has recently left prison and started a new life with hopes of going to college. He has developed an interest in film and has read up on its history:

    Recently he had sat down to watch The Birth of a Nation. He had read about the film in a book about African American portrayal in cinematic history. When he had first read about the film, it sounded like one of the worst movies ever made, but when he read about it in the movie guides, he had been shocked to see rave reviews calling it a “breakthrough in cinematic history” and the film "that changed movie-making forever". He mulled over the words in the brief paragraph that had a slight mention of the racism in the film. Instead, the critic discussed the unprecedented use of cutting between two scenes to heighten the drama and action, along with the epic scale of the production.
    The library did own a copy of the film, and even though E.Z. had watched very few silent films in his lifetime (he did sit down with his grandfather to watch a few Charlie Chaplin movies, but that had been twenty years earlier), he decided to check it out and watch it in his spare time.
    Impressed with its epic grandeur and its ability to convey powerful imaginary to evoke emotion without a spoken word, he cringed as he watched white men in blackface play up the grossest stereotypes. Surprisingly he laughed at the appearance of the mulatto—something he did trying to cope with the onrush combination of obscenity and absurdity. Did people view him as a half-breed threat like Silas Lynch (why would you name a character such in a movie like that???), whose miscegenation lead him to be the most dangerous villain featured in the film? The negro beast with the spark of white intelligence—the monster that should never have been created? The more he thought about it the less he laughed.
    The truly horrifying aspect of the film was that the majority of whites had believed in their own supremacy and that an entire race, or races of people, were naturally inferior. The film even quoted then President Woodrow Wilson asserting this exact point.
    He had to admit after watching it that it did answer a lot of his questions about American history and thus he found it as insightful as it was offensive. The people of those days, both in the North and South had succeeded in forming a worldview that justified their atrocities and acts of terrorism against a race of people. Of all the feelings he thought he would encounter during and after watching the film, enlightenment had not been one of them.
    The film did have some accuracy: white southerners did react to the burgeoning power of Negros by forming the Ku Klux Klan and lynching blacks. Unfortunately, the film unabashedly celebrated this bit of history as a reaffirmation of the traditional southern hierarchy. This powerful box office smash of a film came from an established archetype of restoration prevalent all through Western civilization. The Klan were the original superheroes, and why not? They embodied the hero who rises from tragedy or nothing to become the savior of all humanity (white humanity at least). Also they wore masks for the sake of anonymity and therefore remained mild-mannered citizens by day. When night came, they were the masked avengers, seeking out justice for the honor of white women everywhere.
    Membership in the Klan even reached an all-time high as men and even women saw it as a social club with which to belong and celebrate protestant values, while at the same battling the existential threat of outsiders (in some cases Catholics took the place of blacks). Interest began to decline as the violent nature of the core group of klansman frightened and dissuaded people enough to later renounced all ties to the group.
    Owing to this archetype, the director had been blind to everything else. There couldn’t be a more racist film and yet DW Griffith had been completely and sincerely shocked at the accusations of racism. He had thought his rendition of the bestselling novel, The Klansman, had been an accurate portrayal of Southern life, which he had learned from recollections of his relatives who regaled him with stories of The Old South and its traditions.
    As he became more engrossed in the film and its history, E.Z. had a shocking epiphany: through these hundreds of years of history white people had been victims themselves! They had been lied to about their near-godlike dominance of their race over the other races they believed to come under their dominion. Viewing it as such he felt compassion and understanding, but he still shook his head in dismay at the absurdity of four hundred years of prejudice and hatred due to skin pigmentation.

    A lot of what I wrote reiterates some points from my previous post, but I wanted to try to capture the experience of a biracial man who identifies himself as an African American (I happen to be a Caucasian, btw). Keep in mind that this is a single page from a 350 page novel that I hope to one day publish.

    Anyway, I hope this adds something to the discussion of race.

  5. Now, a century since its original release date, D.W. Griffith's The Birth of a Nation has been mostly forgotten. Film historians, however, view it as a landmark achievement in storytelling that influenced every film to come after. The film also made the original AFI top one hundred and garnered critical acclaim and box-office success. It may also be considered the first superhero movie: audiences were reported to have cheered at the sight of heroes dressed in elaborate costumes who rode in on horseback just in time to save the day.

    But these heroes weren't The Avengers:

    The absolutely racist subject matter may be why it has been mostly forgotten, which is a shame because everyone should see this film. Why? Because nothing else I have ever seen or read possibly explains racism better. As abhorrent as this film's message is, no other film gives a complete picture of the Old South and how it saw itself, and these attitudes and viewpoints still resonate with us today in some minute and insidious form.

    Simply put, it is a part of our history that should not be forgotten. By history I do not refer to the film's accurate depiction of events, just as a mere recital of historic facts has never been, at least to me, actual "history". This movie has little to do with historical accuracy or facts*. Watching the film we learn little about the period of Reconstruction, only what people (North and South) in 1915 thought of those "dark times":

    Before the war, slavery had maintained a social and natural hierarchy. Whites, as the rightful caregivers to blacks, held a justified dominion over them, keeping them restrained and tamed as anyone would a dangerous animal. It had been "humane" to take up this "White Man's burden" (the film gives us instances of this in the depiction of the loyal and still-subservient blacks** who help fight off the marauding trouble makers). Abolition and Reconstruction allowed blacks with their inferior minds and relentless sexual appetites to run wild while God-fearing white men could only watch in horror. It is only when these men come together and become the Knights of the Klu Klux Klan can they fight back against the corruption and disorder and thus restore everything to its rightful place. By the end of the film the Grail has been restored in the form of Jim Crow laws.

    So, in today's America where racism exists mostly as unconcious attitudes directed at certain types of individuals based on how they look or dress or where they live, what can a film like The Birth of a Nation teach us about current society? A society where unarmed black men are more likely to be killed by the police than armed white men? Sure, we do not believe as they did in 1915, but we are nowhere near the post-racial society we imagine ourselves to be. This film is something we must confront and understand if we are to get closer to that ideal.

    To be continued...

    *Just look at the scene following the assassination of Abraham Lincoln where a group of former slave-owning Southerners mourn his death.

    **I should mention here that the "black" people in this film were white men in blackface. For some reason it had been hard for the studio to find African Americans willing to star in a film that celebrated lynchings.
    INCspot likes this.
  6. I couldn't post this in its entirety. The dirty parts are in parts 1 and 2. Below are my final thoughts. Spoilers ahead.

    These quotes emphasize a few of the many reasons this book had been banned and considered "pornography" during the 1920's. Molly Bloom, like the Wife of Bath in The Canterbury Tales, is a strong and complex character whose thoughts run through various emotions, from irreverence and sarcasm to love and hope, mostly directed towards her husband. In the end, Leopold and Molly become tragic figures who seek reconciliation using Stephen Dedalus as a catalyst. The novel ends with her breathless reminiscence of Leopold's proposal from "under the Moorish wall" overlooking the Strait of Gibraltar.*

    Art ultimately wins out over censorship, but keep this in mind: the shock value of certain works does not live on--the power of their words and imagery have a greater meaning in a greater context. We should also remember the words of poet Joseph Brodsky, "“There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.”

    *Those who have seen the movie, Back to School, will know that she said, "Yes."

    Excerpts from both part 1 and 2 used for educational purposes and is covered under Fair Use.
    Taken from

    Joyce, James. "Ulysses". New York: Vintage International; 1990, Print.
  7. Let's find out why the greatest novel of the 20th century was banned in the U.S. for twelve years. In case you have no idea to what I'm referring, the novel Ulysses by James Joyce is considered a masterpiece of modernist literature. It follows the wanderings of Leopold Bloom over the course of June 16, 1904. The novel, written in 1922, would be banned in the United States on an obscenity charge until 1934 when a district court determined it not to be pornography.

    Part 2:

    Her lover:
    "I could dream it when he made me spend the 2nd time tickling me behind with his finger I was coming for about 5 minutes with my legs round him I had to hug him after O Lord I wanted to shout out all sorts of things fuck or shit or anything [...]"

    Later on she returns to Stephen Dedalus:
    "[...] Ill put on my best shift and drawers let him have a good eyeful out of that to make his micky stand for him Ill let him know if thats what he wanted that his wife is fucked yes and damn well fucked too up to my neck nearly not by him 5 or 6 times handrunning theres the mark of his spunk on the clean sheet [...] if he wants to kiss my bottom Ill bulge it right out in his face as large as life he can stick his tongue 7 miles up my hole [...] Ill tighten my bottom well and let out a few smutty words smellrump or lick my shit or the first mad thing comes into my head [...]"
  8. Let's find out why the greatest novel of the 20th century was banned in the U.S. for twelve years. In case you have no idea to what I'm referring, the novel Ulysses by James Joyce is considered a masterpiece of modernist literature. It follows the wanderings of Leopold Bloom over the course of June 16, 1904. The novel, written in 1922, would be banned in the United States on an obscenity charge until 1934 when a district court determined it not to be pornography.

    So what was the fuss? Let's go all the way to the last section of the book. This section, referred to as "Penelope"*, features the stream-of-conscious thoughts of Molly Bloom, Leopold's wife, and the men in her life. These men include Leopold, a son who died in adolescence, her father, her extramarital lover, and Stephen Dedalus,** of whom she jokes about seducing.

    I'll introduce the quotes with a point of reference. Keep in mind this is stream-of-conscious writing, which attempts to mimic the uninterrupted thoughts occurring in one's mind and therefore lacks punctuation and appears non-sequitur at times.

    Her husband's behavior when she was nursing her daughter:
    "[...] theres the mark of his teeth still where he tried to bite the nipple I had to scream out arent they fearful trying to hurt you [...] I had to get him to suck them they were so hard he said it was sweeter and thicker than cows then he wanted to milk me into the tea well hes beyond everything [...]"

    On the possibility of Stephen Dedalus coming to live with her and her husband:
    "[...] I often felt I wanted to kiss him all over his lovely young cock there so simply I wouldn't mind taking him in my mouth if nobody was looking as if it was asking you to suck it so clean and white he looked with his boyish face I would too in 1/2 a minute even if some of it went down what its only like gruel [...] besides hed be clean compared to those pigs of men I suppose never dream of washing it from 1 years end to the other the most of them only thats what gives the women the moustaches [...]"

    *Like the film, Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? each section of the book parallels the adventures of Ulysses/Odysseus in the ancient classic, The Odyssey. Based on what edition you read, the "Penelope" section is over forty pages long and consists of only two or three sentences.

    **The "hero" of A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man who Leo asks to come live with he and his wife.
  9. What else would you call a man who released two heavy metal albums (including two Christmas carol EPs) in his nineties. A man who was a British spy during WWII and as a result of that experience explained the actual sound of a knife going through human flesh to Peter Jackson during the filming of Lord of the Rings.

    What else would you call arguably his most famous role in all of film, Dracula. Even if you have never heard of the legendary "Hammer" horror films, you must have seen the iconic image of his flashing his bloody fangs in a bloodcurdling hiss.

    I could list all of his film and television roles (an IMDB page that would require a lot of scrolling down), but I'll end it with this: this man deserved the "Chuck Norris" meme a hell of a lot more than Chuck Norris did. Badass.
  10. Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce

    The eternally-wandering protagonist, Stephen Dedalus, has arrived in the part of Dublin where "women and girls dressed in long vivid gowns traversed the street from house to house." Without a clue as to how he should feel or act, Stephen remains in the middle of the street until approached by a lady of the night:

    Her room was warm and lightsome. A huge doll sat with her legs apart in the copious easy-chair beside the bed. He tried to bid his tongue speak that he might seem at ease, watching her as she undid her gown, noting the proud conscious movements of her perfumed head.

    Even the doll's awaiting entry. Very subtle writing there, Jimmy. Though I can't help wondering whether or not the doll also charges by the hour.

    The character of Stephen Dedalus spends the entire novel in search of that unknown transcendental experience that will finally give his life meaning. Has he found it?

    As he stood silent in the middle of the room she came over to him and embraced him gaily and gravely. Her round arms held him firmly to her and he, seeing her face lifted to him in serious calm and feeling the warm calm rise and fall of her breast, all but burst into hysterical weeping. Tears of joy and relief shone in his delighted eyes and his lips parted though they would not speak.

    She passed her tinkling hand through his hair, calling him a little rascal.

    —Give me a kiss, she said.

    The epithet of "little rascal", given to us in the form of indirect speech, tells us that the two will remain in anonymity and will exchange nothing else but fluids.

    His lips would not bend to kiss her. He wanted to be held firmly in her arms, to be caressed slowly, slowly, slowly. In her arms he felt that he had suddenly become strong and fearless and sure of himself. But his lips would not bend to kiss her.

    With a sudden movement she bowed his head and joined her lips to his and he read the meaning of her movements in her frank uplifted eyes. It was too much for him. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself to her, body and mind, conscious of nothing in the world but the dark pressure of her softly parting lips. They pressed upon his brain as upon his lips as though they were the vehicle of a vague speech; and between them he felt an unknown and timid pressure, darker than the swoon of sin, softer than sound or odour.

    At this point the chapter closes. Stephen has remained frozen only to awaken with a kiss in a vein similar to "Snow White" or "Sleeping Beauty". He surrenders to her, though his entire experience is remembered mostly for the kiss and for nothing much else. It may be implied--if even to go as far as that-- that the two had coitus, but there is no real indication. All we get is his experience and his innermost feelings, and that is mostly from the repetition of the word "pressure" when describing the application of the prostitute's lips to his.

    There will be more to come on James Joyce, but that will have to wait for a very special day in June.

    Stay tuned.

    Excerpts of the novel taken from Project Gutenberg
  11. Outside of any context the scene you might picture seems comedic and downright silly. So how is this considered one of the most touching and poignant moments ever set to film?

    ***contains spoilers***​

    Ikiru (Japanese for "to live"), directed by the legendary Akira Kurosawa, chronicles the last year of Kenji Watanabe as he deals with his mortality and the short time he has left due to a terminal illness. Near the end of his life, as his previous accomplishments are stripped of their meaning, he, in his time as a city bureaucrat, has accomplished very little. Facing his demise, he now seeks to leave behind a legacy. He finds that the answer has been in front of him all along: at work, as a small link in the contorted chain of government bureaucracy, he has continually passed along the concerns of the neighborhood mothers who complain about an unsafe plot of land near their homes. In the short time he has left, he dedicates the remainder of his life advocating for the conversion of that land into a public park.

    The final act of the film takes place at his funeral as family and coworkers discuss whether the park would have been built with or without his effort, thus calling into question his entire legacy. At one point, an officer interrupts them to tell of an odd scene he encountered in the park late one cold, snowy night. The flashback then cuts to Watanabe singing on a swing set as the gentle snow falls all around him.

    The song he sings, Gondola no uta, had been played near the beginning of the movie during a scene at which he broke down in tears after coming to grips with what he believes is an inoperable tumor. At this moment he is at peace, and his singing of the song becomes not only an acceptance of his fate, but also a readiness for whatever comes between now and the time of his death. This is the final scene we see of Kenji Watanabe: the momentum of him gently swinging back and forth, enjoying the course he set in motion and content in his freedom from all the meaningless conventions that bound him to his previous life.
  12. I mentioned in the previous entries working up to 20th Century literature. Well...this one is actually from the 21st Century, and it is pretty bad. CAUTION: This entry is not for the squimish (I.e., wait until after dinner to read this one). Not kidding here--just keep telling yourself, "it's only highly-acclaimed literature".

    This Week's Entry: Freedom by Jonathan Franzen

    The award-winning author's follow-up novel to The Corrections, features a family from Minnesota and divides the narrative between different family members. This entry focuses on the young college-aged son, Joey, and his adventures in South America with a young, beautiful woman. He does, however, have a problem: he had actually married another girl the week before and had somehow mistakenly swallowed his wedding ring.

    And thus I present to the reader his solution:

    In his shaving kit was a kitchen fork that he'd brought for the extremely disagreeable task ahead of him. He sat clutching it in a sweaty hand as his shit slid out of him. There was a lot of it, two or three days' worth[...]He knelt on the cool floor and peered into the bowl at the four large turds afloat in it, hoping to see the glint of gold immediately. The oldest turd was dark and firm and noduled, the ones from deeper inside him were paler and already dissolving a little. Although he, like all people, secretly enjoyed the smell of his own farts, the smell of his shit was something else[...] He had no choice but to lift out each turd and run it through his fingers, and he had to do this quickly before things got too waterlogged[...]

    After being forced by the situation to use both hands, he finally retrieves the ring.

    I must admit I really don't care for this novel due to most of the characters being unlikable (I could and I might write a critical blog on this book alone) and overall being vastly inferior to The Corrections. As for the above scene, I quoted it not just to gross people out (though that's fun too), but I actually think this is one of the better passages in the novel. It shows the unpleasant lengths a character will undertake to retrieve an item that symbolizes his love and commitment to another human being. As disgusting as it is, given the right context, it can be a damn-near poignant gesture.* That's why I felt it appropriate given the warm and fuzzy holiday coming up this weekend. Love is a willingness to do things out of the ordinary when required to by a significant other. Maybe you should ask the person you love if they would be willing to do something like that. Then again, maybe you'd be willing to do something even more repulsive than that, like take them to see Fifty Shades of Grey.

    Have a Happy Valentines Day!

    *Along with this, it also becomes a turning point and defining moment in the character's life.

    Freedom, by Jonathan Franzen, was published in 2010 by Farrar, Straus and Giroux, and was used within the dictates of the Fair Use section of U.S. copyright law.
  13. I keep changing up this blog's name. This is the third entry in a blog that takes dirty little snippets from literary works that can be quite racy. This week's entry:

    The Satyricon by Petronius Arbiter.

    Yes. That disturbing Fellini film is actually based on a classic book written during the reign of the Caesars in The Roman Empire (1st century CE). Surprisingly, Fellini did not need to add much to the story. The main character, Encolpius, has trouble keeping his easily-seduced boy-lover from being led astray by other men, including a rival. As a result they get themselves in all sorts of adventures. In the scene below, Encolpius, at the behest of a maid named Chrysis, offers himself to her mistress:

    She was in an undress, reclining on a flowry bank, and diverting her self with a myrtle branch; as soon as I appear'd, she blusht, as mindful of her disappointment: Chrysis, very prudently withdrew, and when we were left together, I approacht the temptation; at what time, she skreen'd my face with the myrtle, and as if there had been a wall between us, becoming more bold; "what, my chill'd spark," began she, "have you brought all your self to day?"

    "Do you ask, madam," I return'd, "rather than try?" And throwing my self to her, that with open arms was eager to receive me, we kist a little age away; when giving the signal to prepare for other joys, she drew me to a more close imbrace; and now, our murmuring kisses their sweet fury tell; now, our twining limbs, try'd each fold of love; now, lockt in each others arms, our bodies and our souls are join'd; but even here, alas! even amidst these sweet beginnings, a sudden chilliness prest upon my joys, and made me leave 'em not compleat.

    As you can see (or in this case, read) he did not bring all of his "self" that day. He seeks to remedy the problem:

    ...therefore as the only way to disguise my misfortune, I began to dissemble sickness, and having got in bed, to revenge my self of that part of me, that had been the cause of all my misfortunes; when taking hold of it,

    With dreadful steel, the part I wou'd have lopt,
    Thrice from my trembling hand the razor dropt.
    Now, what I might before, I could not do,
    For cold as ice the fearful thing withdrew;
    And shrunk behind a wrinkled canopy,
    Hiding his head from my revenge and me.
    Thus, by his fear, I'm baulkt of my design,
    When I in words more killing vent my spleen.

    At what time, raising myself on the bed, in this or like manner, I reproacht the sullen impotent: With what face can you look up, thou shame of heaven and man? that can'st not be seriously mention'd. Have I deserv'd from you, when rais'd within sight of heavens of joys, to be struck down to the lowest hell? To have a scandal fixt on the very prime and vigour of my years, and to be reduc'd to the weakness of an old man? I beseech you, sir, give me an epitaph on my departed vigour; tho' in a great heat I had thus said,

    He still continu'd looking on the ground,
    Nor more, at this had rais'd his guilty head,
    Than th' drooping poppy on its tender stalk.

    Thus he decides against separating himself from his member.

    Excerpts taken from the 1694 William Burnaby translation via Project Gutenberg
  14. This week's scene: Bruce Willis must save a wrongly-convicted Julia Roberts from certain death in the gas chamber. He arrives at the eleventh hour to break the glass of the chamber and carry her off to safety. The day is saved and we have our happy ending.


    This scene is from a movie-within-a-movie that takes place in Robert Altman's The Player, a satire about the film industry and how bottom lines can stifle and hamper creativity.* The movie idea pitched at the beginning of The Player calls for the woman (to be played by a little-known actress) to die tragically at the hands of a corrupt justice system.

    The intent of this original ending fits the simplest definition of tragedy as espoused by Aristotle in his Poetics: the catharsis or recognition, which is supposed to evoke fear and pity in its audience. In the case of the movie pitched, it wants its audience to react to the death of an innocent and question a country and a judicial system that allows the death of not only an innocent life but the death of anyone at the hands of the state.

    Unfortunately, the original ending tests badly among focus groups, and the execs, along with the writer, turn it into the above-mentioned farce. We now have an ironic tragedy where corporate profit interferes with art and where we are as much to blame for the banal wish fulfillment that takes its place. We get movies that take no risk to challenge us, and thus we live insular lives devoid of art. This is Oscar Wilde's second definition of tragedy: we get what we want.

    *For the full plot, I suggest watching this movie.
  15. In a new weekly blog, I take excerpts from the vast and storied literary cannon in an attempt to show how raunchy, shocking, and dirty-minded these great writers could be. This week:

    Idylle by Guy de Maupassant*.

    Like Edgar Allan Poe, Guy de Maupassant is known mostly for his short stories. In this very, very short story, an engorged wet nurse and a stranger meet on a train. Their conversation leads to this:

    "When you have milk like me, you must nurse three times a day, without that, you are embarrassed. It's like a weight that I would have on the heart, a weight that keeps me breathing and that breaks my members. It is unfortunate to have milk that much. "

    He said: "Yes. It's unfortunate. It must bother you."

    She seemed very ill indeed, exhausted and weak. She murmured:

    "Just press it and the milk will flow as a fountain. It's really curious to see. No one would believe. At Casale, all the neighbors were coming to see me."

    He said: "Oh really.

    - Yes, really. I would be happy [sic] show you, but it would be useless to me. It does not come out a lot that way. "

    [Paragraphs omitted by blogger]​

    "I can no longer hold. I think I'm dying."

    And, with an unconscious gesture, she opened her dress completely.

    The right breast appeared huge, tight, with its brown strawberry.

    And the poor woman moaned: "Oh my God, Oh my God, what am I going to do?"

    [Paragraph omitted by blogger]​

    The young man, confused, stammered: "But ... Madame ... ... I could relieve you."

    She replied in a broken voice: "Yes, if you want. You will do me good service. I can not hold out, I cannot."

    He knelt in front of her, and she leaned toward him, carrying to his mouth in the gesture of a nurse, the dark tip of her breast. In the movement she made by taking her two hands to bring it towards this man, a drop of milk appeared at the extremity.

    He began to drink it eagerly, seizing that heavy breast in his mouth like a fruit. And he began to suckle in a greedy and regular way. He had passed both his arms around the waist of the woman that he was holding to approach her, and he drank with slow sips with a movement of the neck, similar as the children one.

    Suddenly she said: "That's enough for this one, take the other now."

    And he took the other with docility.

    She had placed her hands on the back of the young man, and she was breathing forcefully now, happily, enjoying the breath of flowers mixed with blasts of air movement being thrown into the cars.

    She said: "It smells really good here."

    He did not answer, still drinking at this source of flesh, and closing his eyes as if he was tasting.

    But she pushed him gently: "That's enough. I feel better. This put me back in my body."

    He got up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

    She said, putting back in her dress both living bottles that were filling her chest:

    You have done me a great service. I thank you, sir."

    And he replied in an acknowledging tone :

    "I am the one who has to thank you, ma'am, that's two days that I had not eaten anything!"

    *I read this story long ago in a Barnes and Noble. The only reason I read it was its short length (boy was I surprised!). Looking this story up on the internet I could only find it in its entirety from one source that I really don't want to name--think breastfeeding-fetish site. If are you interesting in reading more than just the snippets I provided, I suggest you google (like I did) the terms, "Guy de Maupassant" and "Idylle" I did, however, find the book I believe the translation comes from: Penguin Classics: Guy de Maupassant, Selected Stories (Roger Colet, translator; 1971).