I’m nearly finished with Bruce Duffy’s novel ("The World As I Found It") about philosophers Ludwig Wittgenstein, Bertrand Russell and G.E. Moore. And there’s this delightful passage about Russell on page 426:
Miss Marmer was not the first teacher whom Russell had slept with, not by a long shot. Among his staff, Russell was notorious for making quick and startlingly frank advances to the new teachers. Successful advances, too: it was a point of considerable pride to him that, with the exception of two or three women (who had left the school soon after), all had readily — and, he thought, happily — accepted his attentions.
This is delicious.
Please don’t misunderstand me. I am even more appalled by his behavior than you are but, frankly, and strictly between you and me, this is definitely on the QT, hush hush and strictly off the record, but there’s nothing more erotic to me than the use of power to get sex (not that I am anything less than 100% morally opposed to this and I devote every second of my life, except for when I’m earning a living, to fighting this iniquity).
Oh hell, I know it’s wrong, but let’s get our freak on. REO Speedwagon says so:
I can’t fight this feeling any longer.
And yet I’m still afraid to let it flow.
What started out as friendship,
Has grown stronger.
I only wish I had the strength to let it show.I tell myself that I can’t hold OUT forever.
I said there is no reason for my fear.
Cause I feel so secure when we’re together.
You give my life direction,
You make everything so clear.And even as I WANDER,
I’m keeping you in sight.
You’re a candle in the window,
On a cold, dark winter’s night.
And I’m getting closer than I ever THOUGHT I MIGHT.And I can’t fight this feeling anymore.
I’ve forgotten what I started fighting for.
It’s time to bring this ship into the shore,
And throw away the oars, forever.Cause I can’t fight this feeling anymore.
I’ve forgotten what I started fighting for.
And if I have to crawl upon the floor,
Come crashing through your door,
Baby, I can’t fight this feeling anymore.My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you.
I’ve been running round in circles in my mind.
And it always seems that I’m following you, girl,
Cause you take me to the places,
That alone I’d never find.
Sometimes I have trouble reconciling my rock music with my religion. And even as I wander, I’m keeping you in sight. You’re a candle in the wind, On a cold, dark winter’s night.
I need to return to the purity of British hymns and strive to build Jerusalem in Pico-Robertson’s green and pleasant land.
