River ,'War Stories'
There's more to life than watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer! No. Really, there is! Honestly! Here's a place for Buffistas to come and discuss what it is they're reading, their favorite authors and poets. "Geez. Crack a book sometime."
What's on the non-fiction list?
Piercing the Darkness, Katherine Ramsland
In Search of Dracula: The History of Dracula and Vampires, Radu Florescu
Vampire Book: The Encyclopedia of the Undead, J. Gordon Melton
Vampyres: Lord Byron to Count Dracula
V is for Vampire: The A-Z Guide to Everything Undead, David J. Skal
NO! Do you have it?
I do. I'll post it to Buffistarawk tonight.
Oh dear. The Poe entry should be "Alone."
I'd also suggest Donne's "A Nocturnal on St. Lucy's Day, Being the Shortest Day."
How about a poem that starts:
Love is a deep and a dark and a lonely
Lucia di Lammermoor.
Yeah, that opera. Madness, murder, all the good stuff.
I have trouble reading Chelsea Quinn Yarbro anymore, the grim sections disturb me more than they used to.
sweet! Thanks, David!
Alone
Edgar Allan Poe
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then - in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
************
Practically a primer for a teen goth journal entry.
A stanza from the Donne:
*******
Study me then, you who shall lovers be
At the next world, that is, at the next spring ;
For I am every dead thing,
In whom Love wrought new alchemy.
For his art did express
A quintessence even from nothingness,
From dull privations, and lean emptiness ;
He ruin'd me, and I am re-begot
Of absence, darkness, death—things which are not.
Heh. Jen's going to arrive from her flight, check into the board and be very pissed she wasn't around for this conversation.
Hec, I have an anthology of poetry also called Acquainted with the Night that might qualify as Gothy.