Full-blooded acknowledgement.

Where the hell was this idea when I was dropping out of an MA in the humanities?

For [Dave] Hickey, writing near the beginning of the nineties, only a full-blooded acknowledgement of the pleasure and sociality that intersect in disputatious experiences of beauty could rescue the academic art world from its arid purism. (2)

From Morris, Mitchell. The Persistence of Sentiment. Berkeley: U California P, 2013. Print.


The problem with choosing a provocative passage from The Age of Innocence is that the whole damn book is so thoroughly quotable and stirring.

“Women ought  to be free — as free as we are,” he declared, making a discovery of which he was too irritated to measure the terrific consequences. (41)

Newland Archer, in: Wharton, Edith. The Age of Innocence. New York: Quality Paperback Book Club, 1993. Print.

Inventing ideals.

Balanchine made the ballerina symbolic of his new direction in ballet, even redesigning her image according to his own idea of what the ideal female dancer should look like: tall, with long legs, highly arched and flexible feet, narrow hips, long arms, and a small head. The look quickly became iconic, replacing all past images to the point that all ballerinas who have come since bear his stamp: “[When] you think about dancers—long-legged, slender girls who move as quickly as delight,” observed American dance critic Joseph Mazo, “you are thinking about Balanchine. He invented them.” (97)

From: Kelly, Deirdre. Ballerina: Sex, Scandal, and Suffering Behind the Symbol of Perfection. Vancouver: Greystone, 2012. EPUB file.

Raised to fear.

All I know are here are these two tiny little people standing in a river in Northern Ontario as the gods keep watch, or don’t. A drunken east coast stereotype insults a fine-boned French girl of slender means. Problem is, they have both nothing and everything in common. They are hicks. They are broke. They are working at the building site of a hydro electrical generating station for isolation pay at White Dog Falls because the world has nothing else to offer them as yet. It is 1965 and kids their age are rioting in the cities, upending the socio-sexual landscape, but my soon-to-be parents are farm people, terrified of cities, of drugs, of the irreligious, of those who walk around wearing entirely different coloured skin from them. The world is changing, rapidly, dizzyingly, and change is something they’ve both been raised to fear. They have this in common: they want no part of it. (130)

Narrator “Rank,” from: Coady, Lynn. The Antagonist. Toronto: Anansi, 2011. EPUB file.