Galatea

Perhaps you know the story of a sculptor who from warm ivory carved a woman perfect in form, precise in shape, in detail, exquisite, in attention, minute.  No?  Well…it was like this: In ancient Cyprus, home of the beautiful, terrible Aphrodite, the sculptor, Pygmalion, created a statue of the ideal, perfect woman, Galatea, whom he desperately, ardently, impossibly loved.  The rest is history, a history that you might read in Ovid’s Latin telling, or here in spirited, skilled, subtle, erotic English verse, Galatea: The Statue Comes to Life.

In Galatea, be sensually warmed by the Aegean sun, with ease recline into the arms of foam-borne Aphrodite, breathe easy, free of Progressively censored opinion, move openly, loosed of the Modernist corset, be Classive, be good, be beautiful, be true, and you will be at home in the body of your imagination, some three-thousand years ago.

* This book concerns aesthetics, the sensual propagation of art, it is erotic, unsuitable to delicate readers.