Here is a story of the savage caught somewhere off the coast of Labrador, taken to England and shown about like a wild beast. Next year they bring him back and fetch a woman savage on board to keep him company. When they see each other they blush; they blush profoundly; the sailor notices it but knows not why it is. And later the two savages set up house together on board ship, she attending yo his wants, he nursing her in sickness, but living as the sailors note, in perfect chastity. The erratic searchlight cast by these records falling for a second upon those blushing cheeks three hundred years ago, among the snow, sets up that sense of communication which we are apt to get only from fiction. we seem able to guess why they blushed; the Elizabethans would notice it, but it has waited over three hundred years for us to interpret it.
Virginia Woolf (1919)
i ask to you dear aficionado(s),
please do not divulgate thi(e)s(e) picture(s)
outside the experienceofthinking
saturday march 10 2018