sometimes checking the accuracy of one’s poetic images leads to beautiful results.
“When Shelley’s corpse washed ashore, a friend identified it by a copy of Keats’s 1820 volume in the coat pocket, which he knew Shelley had taken with him. Then, after cremation in which Shelley’s heart, hardened by calcium, did not burn, this same friend snatched it from the embers and presented it to Mary Shelley, who kept it thereafter in her desk, wrapped in a copy of ‘Adonais.”
Here’s your morbid literary fact of the day.
jesus christ, i will never be this goth.
Mary Shelley’s father taught her to spell her name by taking her to the graveyard and having her trace the letters on her mother, Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s gravestone.
NO ONE will ever be as goth.
didnt she also have sex on said grave
She lost her virginity on her mother’s grave yes
… that’s it we can all go home, peak goth was achieved before we even started.
JSTOR confirms it: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3177447
someone give the JSTOR social media manager a raise.
(Source: raecupcake-blog, via persian-slipper)
PSA: I have hard copies of Natural Disasters back in stock! 10 are already claimed, so PM me if you want one or find me at @velroreadings Monday 10/17 to get yours! They’re also still available online at Hermeneutic Chaos Press ⚡️🌊⚡️
(Source: totalrecallvintage, via iwantmybearsuit)