Intimacy

One of the sad parts of living in a culture that both represses and glorifies sexuality is that you lose very good words like ‘intimacy’ down the drain of wasted, euphemistic meaninglessness. I frequently have need of the word ‘intimacy,’ but always pass it up in favor of something less descriptive, simply to avoid any awkward connotations.

But I’m not feeling so cowardly today.

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“Treasure up in your minds continually the words of life”

Clark’s recent post on Death and the Atonement got me thinking about the fascinating preface to Lewis Carroll’s book Sylvie and Bruno. Clark’s subsequent post to his own blog related marginaly to Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 and how the characters in the book memorized whole books to preserve them from destruction reminded me of a different part of Carroll’s preface.

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