 |
| Check out our blog the monitor |
| Sign me up to receive the free weekly |
| _____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ |
| OUR OPERATORS ARE STANDING BY |
| CONTACT THE LIZARD |
Nude Today with Dr. William A. Lipsmacker
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Leda and the Swan: a curious warmth
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Leda and the Swan: a curious warmth
My long-time correspondent, Lady Emilia Pantstapper, writes to urge
me, in my admiration for Bronzino’s Venus, Cupid, Folly & Time (see an
earlier column) not to dismiss Leda and the Swan, which currently hangs
nearby.
She writes with her usual candour, ‘Trust an old fraud like you, William,
to champion that chilly Bronzino as if it were Mariella Frostrup wearing
whipped cream knickers. Give your withered loins a real treat—take
another look at Leda’.
Where would friendship be without such light-hearted badinage? For
instance, I immediately vollied back with the witty sally, ‘Go screw
yourself, you insufferable termagant!’. Some of you may think that a
termagant is a seabird, but you should look it up.
Yet I am always happy to oblige an old friend, especially on a slow week
when I’ve nothing planned.
The “Michelangelo” Leda. What are we to make of it? Not actually by
Michelangelo, the pose of Leda closely reflects the figure of Night in the
Medici Chapel. It is, we hope, not just a rip-off from the supreme
artist’s greatest hits but a copy from the master’s own painting.
Michelangelo was commissioned to paint the scene in 1529 to please
the taste of Alfonso D’Este.
Lady Pantstapper observes that, for all the Leda’s tortuous provenance,
it gives off a ‘curious warmth’. The zymotic old sow (what fun we
have!) is on to something. The warmth is certainly curious. Most of us
know this tale through the poem by Yeats
me, in my admiration for Bronzino’s Venus, Cupid, Folly & Time (see an
earlier column) not to dismiss Leda and the Swan, which currently hangs
nearby.
She writes with her usual candour, ‘Trust an old fraud like you, William,
to champion that chilly Bronzino as if it were Mariella Frostrup wearing
whipped cream knickers. Give your withered loins a real treat—take
another look at Leda’.
Where would friendship be without such light-hearted badinage? For
instance, I immediately vollied back with the witty sally, ‘Go screw
yourself, you insufferable termagant!’. Some of you may think that a
termagant is a seabird, but you should look it up.
Yet I am always happy to oblige an old friend, especially on a slow week
when I’ve nothing planned.
The “Michelangelo” Leda. What are we to make of it? Not actually by
Michelangelo, the pose of Leda closely reflects the figure of Night in the
Medici Chapel. It is, we hope, not just a rip-off from the supreme
artist’s greatest hits but a copy from the master’s own painting.
Michelangelo was commissioned to paint the scene in 1529 to please
the taste of Alfonso D’Este.
Lady Pantstapper observes that, for all the Leda’s tortuous provenance,
it gives off a ‘curious warmth’. The zymotic old sow (what fun we
have!) is on to something. The warmth is certainly curious. Most of us
know this tale through the poem by Yeats
| Updated at least 26½ times a day |
© lizardmagazine.com, 2008
More Nude Today:
More Nude Today:
How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs?
That literary angle on the myth describes a tragic rape, in which Zeus
has his way against the young girl’s wishes, prefiguring in her torn
hymen and his divine orgasm the greater tragedy of the fall of Troy
(Helen of Troy is conceived by this union).
has his way against the young girl’s wishes, prefiguring in her torn
hymen and his divine orgasm the greater tragedy of the fall of Troy
(Helen of Troy is conceived by this union).
A shudder in the loins engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead.
No subject for the tender kind of warmth, this! And yet Michelangelo
gives us a coupling that is both tender and passionate – the pair are
evidently enjoying languorous, Sunday morning sex. Described in a
glowing palette of pink and red – the other end of the spectrum from
Bronzino’s glacial blues – Leda’s leg wraps around the swan, drawing
him closer and deeper; beak and lips caress. She is barely awake,
happily letting his passion draw her into consciousness. We all need
more mornings like this.
The Leda story as rape is in fact a later accretion. The earliest
presentation of the myth in the Renaissance shows the pair making
love with great enthusiasm (and in public). All the depictions of that
period are remarkably explicit: partly of course because it was an
acceptable excuse to paint the physical act of love, which
Renaissance man was every bit as interested by as us (perhaps even
more urgently so; he lacked the option of subscribing to Celebrity Skin).
Instead of showing us a young girl being exploited by lust and power,
the Renaissance showed us a god, in the form of a royal animal, making
love face to face with an equal. Leda’s heroic proportions speak of her
own strength and dignity. No wonder these two will conceive the most
beautiful woman who has ever lived.
The Renaissance knew humankind’s true status: we mate not like
animals, but gods.
gives us a coupling that is both tender and passionate – the pair are
evidently enjoying languorous, Sunday morning sex. Described in a
glowing palette of pink and red – the other end of the spectrum from
Bronzino’s glacial blues – Leda’s leg wraps around the swan, drawing
him closer and deeper; beak and lips caress. She is barely awake,
happily letting his passion draw her into consciousness. We all need
more mornings like this.
The Leda story as rape is in fact a later accretion. The earliest
presentation of the myth in the Renaissance shows the pair making
love with great enthusiasm (and in public). All the depictions of that
period are remarkably explicit: partly of course because it was an
acceptable excuse to paint the physical act of love, which
Renaissance man was every bit as interested by as us (perhaps even
more urgently so; he lacked the option of subscribing to Celebrity Skin).
Instead of showing us a young girl being exploited by lust and power,
the Renaissance showed us a god, in the form of a royal animal, making
love face to face with an equal. Leda’s heroic proportions speak of her
own strength and dignity. No wonder these two will conceive the most
beautiful woman who has ever lived.
The Renaissance knew humankind’s true status: we mate not like
animals, but gods.