The mirror and the lamp: romantic theory and the critical tradition. by: Abrams, M. H. (Meyer Borrow this book to access EPUB and PDF files. This highly acclaimed study analyzes the various trends in English criticism during the first four decades of this century. The mirror and the lamp: romantic theory and the critical tradition by M. H. Abrams, , Oxford University Press edition, in English.
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PDF | On Jan 1, , Garrett Green and others published The Mirror, the Lamp, and the Lens. The Mirror and the Lamp: Romantic Theory and the Critical Tradition Using the Lamp Instead of Looking Into the Mirror: Women and Men in Discussion About. The Mirror and the Lamp External-identifier: urn:acs6: mirrorlampromant00abra_0:pdf: Borrow this book to access EPUB and PDF files.
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Again she began to move toward the mirror and I turned again in the chair, keeping my back to her.
Without seeing her, I knew what she was doing. I knew that she was sitting in front of the mirror again, seeing my back, which had had time to reach the depths of the mirror and be caught by her look, which had also had just enough time to reach the depths and return--before the hand had time to start the second turn--until her lips were anointed now with crimson, from the first turn of her hand in front of the mirror.
I saw, opposite me, the smooth wall, which was like another blind mirror in which I couldn't see her-- sitting behind me--but could imagine her where she probably was as if a mirror had been hung in place of the wall. And on the wall I saw what was as if she had raised her eyes and had seen me with my back turned toward her from the chair, in the depths of the mirror, my face turned toward the wall.
Then I saw her lower he eyes again and remain with her eyes always on her brassiere, not talking. And I said to her again: 'I see you. I asked her why. And she, with her eyes quiet and on her brassiere again: 'Because your face is turned toward the wall.
I had the cigarette clenched in my mouth. When I stayed facing the mirror she was back by the lamp. Now she had her hands open over the flame, like the two wings of a hen, toasting herself, and with her face shaded by her own fingers.
And she began to get undressed, item by item, starting at the top with the brassiere. I told her: 'I'm going to turn back to the wall. In any case, you'll see me the way you did when your back was turned. The position of her hands over the flame varied slightly.
I said: 'Sometimes in other dreams, I've thought you were only a little bronze statue in the corner of some museum. Maybe that's why you're cold.
Then, when the blood beats inside me, it's as if someone were calling by knocking on my stomach and I can feel my own copper sound in the bed. It's like- -what do you call it--laminated metal.
And she said: 'If we find each other sometime, put your ear to my ribs when I sleep on the left side and you'll hear me echoing. I've always wanted you to do it sometime. And she said that for years she'd done nothing different. Her life had been dedicated to finding me in reality, through that identifying phrase: 'Eyes of a blue dog. Then she would write on the napkins and scratch on the varnish of the tables with a knife: 'Eyes of a blue dog.
Then she went over to the clerk and said to him: 'I always dream about a man who says to me: 'Eyes of a blue dog. She kept on seeing the clean tile and smelling the odor. And she opened her purse and on the tiles with her crimson lipstick, she wrote in red letters: 'Eyes of a blue dog. He told her: Madam, you have dirtied the tiles. Now, when she finished speaking, I remained in the corner, sitting, rocking in the chair. Still, I've always said the same thing and when I wake up I've always forgotten what the words I can find you with are.
But I never remember the next morning. She raised the face that had been looking at the light; she raised her look, burning, roasting, too, just like her, like her hands, and I felt that she saw me, in the corner where I was sitting, rocking in the chair. The butt had disappeared between my fingers. I'd forgotten I was smoking. She said: 'I don't know why I can't remember where I wrote it. It's just that sometimes I think that I've dreamed that too.
She was a little beyond, and I kept on walking with the cigarettes and matches in my hand, which would not go beyond the lamp. I held the cigarette out to her.
She squeezed it between her lips and leaned over to reach the flame before I had time to light the match. The she sucked in the smoke with the cigarette between her fingers and exclaimed: 'This is something else now. I'm warming up. Trembling beside a lamp. Sometimes, when we were already together, somebody would drop a spoon outside and we would wake up.
Edit this record. Mark as duplicate. Find it on Scholar. Request removal from index. Revision history. From the Publisher via CrossRef no proxy jstor. Configure custom resolver. Are Theories of Imagery Theories of Imagination? Nigel J. Thomas - - Cognitive Science 23 2: The Poetics of Phantasia: Imagination in Ancient Aesthetics, by Anne Sheppard: Bloomsbury Academic, , Pp. Porter - - Australasian Journal of Philosophy 93 2: Genius, Method, and Morality: Images of Newton in Britain, — Richard Yeo - - Science in Context 2 2: Feeling, Emotion and Imagination: Metaphorical Terms for Translation.
Wang Bin - - Perspectives 11 3: Plato and the English Romantics.
Douka Kabitoglou - - Routledge. The Mirror and the Lamp. Sister Mary Francis - - Thought: Fordham University Quarterly 29 4: The Mirror, the Lamp, and the Lens.
Garrett Green - - Ars Disputandi 2 1: Ch'an Metaphors: Waves, Water, Mirror, Lamp. Whalen Lai - - Philosophy East and West 29 3: Thomson's Lamp is Dysfunctional.
William I. McLaughlin - - Synthese 3: Spaulding Shannon - - Synthese 3: Richard Ennals - - AI and Society 15