Word: boudoired
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...better world, the Muse turned from goddess to angel-like Dante's Beatrice, who spoke to him from heaven. But with the Renaissance, poets found their angels nearer home and less angelic: in Elizabethan times, on the streets and in the Court; in the 18th Century, in the boudoir or the salon; among the Romantics, anywhere outdoors. But whether divine, semi-divine or human, the Muse was always a woman...
...residence as the Göring palace, the Goebbels Schwanenwerder estate or the Hitler Chancellery, it is quite as well guarded. A medical specialist summoned recently to examine Frau Himmler was reported to have had to submit credentials and answer questions to six different guards before arriving at her boudoir...
...19th Century good painters generally quit regarding the female body as necessarily a subject for boudoir decoration, went hell-bent in two directions: moony romanticism and substantial realism. Several minor pictures illustrated the first; Gustave Courbet's Midday Dream (see cut) exemplified both. Courbet was a law student whose paintings of such big, authentically voluptuous women struck Parisians of the 1850s as "vulgar...
Lillie did not fail him. Whether bursting into a Fragonard boudoir as Brünnhilde on a white horse, or playing a world-weary actress with only energy enough to scoop up gifts of jewelry with both hands, or wandering around a Siberian railway station disguised as a spy, Lillie had only to cock an eyebrow to cause a commotion, drop a muff to start a riot. The world's coolest and most custom-tailored crackpot, she was never, in her satire, more unerring, implacable, uproarious...
City College's student publications thereupon published belated reviews of this book. Chapter titles: "A Platonic Kiss," "A Siren's Boudoir," "A Mistress Dissatisfied." Its big scene: a nude woman, lying on a couch of black velvet, seducing the hero: " 'You hold yourself in control like a bloodhound in leash,' she said with a provocative movement of her lips. . . . Flushed, panting, in a frenzy of passion, she clung to him, kissing him with avid lips, aroused to wild lubricity. 'Beat me if you like,' she cried, 'strike me, crush me. I crave violence...