This was also where he began to take poetry more seriously. He was especially drawn to epic poetry. Despite its many flaws, the translation had many merits, and it did a great deal to establish his poetic reputation. That fall, he headed to southern France, then traveled to Florence, Rome and Naples. In May of that year, he created Le Monde Dramatique, a luxurious literary journal on which he squandered his inheritance.
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Shelves: france , proto-surrealism , oneirics , read-in , 19th-century As recommended by Rene Daumal, various Surrealists, and others. The title story is actually less fully dream-like than expected, but actually more a personal account of ones own descent into and intermittent recovery from insanity.
As a truthful record of its times, it is good, but for that, we have the other, sometimes even better stories, and essays here full of pastoral detail and historical sense of place. In fact, de Beauvoir cites Nerval as belonging to the Bretonian tradition of gloryiging Women as the gateway natural wonder and inspiration, as one of the failed literary approaches to women, falling quite short of any authentic relationship. So while Nerval may in some way illustrate the type of literary representation as de Beauvoir suggest, I was pleasantly surprised by the self-awareness by which he makes it rather more useful and interesting.
If, in the most unlikely of events, you happen to be captured by some twisted gang of malcontents and forced to read the work of Nerval under torture, do your family proud and deny this ridiculous request until theyre forced to kill you.
This sounds I strongly caution anyone who treasures the precious little time they have on this beautiful, big, blue planet not to squander it reading the work of Gerard Labrunie inspired to use the name Nerval in homage to the estate of a wealthy ancestor. Nevermind the compelling sidenote that after botching the re-wiring of this primitive telecommunications device, his squad discovered they were somehow able to place calls to JUGS, sending the platoon into a downward spiral of lethargy and preposterous beat-off sessions previously unknown to the annals of Asian history.
It comes as no surprise to me that this edition was published by Exact Change. It also seems like they select their authors more on the grounds of ridiculous shit they gained notoriety for, rather than any actual talent for telling a decent story, highlighted by their tendency to preface each weak edition with a cute little narrative on just how uncouth the author was instead of mentioning anything which might have something to do with the actual book or any justification for publishing it, other than to perpetuate the fallacy that because some well-heeled cretin acting like a goddam nimrod has something to say there might be something of worth buried amidst the ramblings.
Such appear to be demanding criteria which Exact Change sets for the scribes of truly inspiring and timeless literature. Gerard Nerval somehow managed to squeeze a little writing into his hectic schedule of naked poetry readings and eating ice cream from a skull while on leave from psychiatric care.
In consideration for the other nekkid freaks at the clothing-optional beach where we decided to catch a few rays, I realized it would be a travesty to befoul the lake in this manner. The story is pretty simple; a turgid tale of unrequited and senseless infatuation for a stage-actress Aurelia on behalf of a maladjusted loser Nerval.
Gérard de Nerval : Aurélia (1855)
Gérard de Nerval
Aurélia and Other Writings