Word: libido
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...Atomised libido was misty in the air," James recalls. The combination of miniskirts and minibicycles nearly unhinged him: "When a girl's tights came towards you on a Moulton, they were making scissor movements at eye level, especially if you were on your knees sobbing with lust." He stumbled into a few affairs and even found a couple of devoted girlfriends, but he also soon discovered that "virginity is a recurring condition...
...rubber-tree plant. When she spends hours preparing nouvelle cuisine dishes as meticulous as a Magritte. When she finds spiritual and even sexual fulfillment in her dogged servitude. When she renounces friends and hobbies to remain the model prisoner whose keeper is a husband with a wandering libido. When, on learning that Hubby is fooling around with someone at the office, she waits for him to come home, stabs him dead with a kitchen knife, then cleans the weapon and replaces it daintily in its holder. Edna (the quietly spectacular Martha Henry) is a neat freak who freaks...
...deserves plenty of goodwill. It was made in twelve days by 29-year-old Writer-Director-Editor Spike Lee. It displays the sumptuous camerawork of Ernest Dickerson. And it tries -- how hard it tries -- for something fresh. Nola Darling (Tracy Camila Johns) is a woman with a mind and libido of her own, much to the exasperation of three swains. Seems like Woody Allen territory, with two important exceptions: the characters and creative team are black, and just about everyone is straining as hard for effect as Nola is for the perfect orgasm. If the film were as good...
...tempting parallels between Vienna's fin-de-siecle and today's end-of-the-century ferment. Sometimes the connections are plain: a brooding eroticism pervaded Viennese art, and today in Manhattan, a well-attended theater piece called Vienna: Lusthaus is heavy with that musky retro scent of doom and libido. The handsome stripped classicism of Loos and Wagner has clear echoes in the architecture of Michael Graves, Andres Duany and Mark Mack. Today as then, the hip bourgeoisie is overeager to embrace bratty, nihilistic expressionist painters. If the confident, public-works liberalism of the 1960s is our version of Vienna...
Small wonder that the fantasy of India swamped the reality for so many smitten Western voyagers. Ordinary rituals had an everyday storybook magic, and art, craft and libido all worked as one. Diamonds were crushed into pigment; rubies were used for adornment and pounded into aphrodisiacal potions. In such a context, the grandeur of these court clothes seems almost casual. It is impossible to resist the impact of a coat--cut for a maharajah who stood 6 ft. 9 in.--made of silk and interlined, for warmth, with rustling handmade rag paper. All that captures the eye. But what holds...