“No, I am nothing pure. My race is mixed. My sex is mixed. I am woman and man. Light with darkness. I am nothing special. Nothing pure. I am mud and flame.”
The quiet melancholy of a repressed British upbringing is, perhaps, lost on me, but that yearning to belong, a search for answers, is universal. The dream sequences, Stephen’s crises of sexuality, are the most visually stunning and materially interesting parts of this piece, and they are unfortunately few and far between.
“No, I am nothing pure. My race is mixed. My sex is mixed. I am woman and man. Light with darkness. I am nothing special. Nothing pure. I am mud and flame.”
The quiet melancholy of a repressed British upbringing is, perhaps, lost on me, but that yearning to belong, a search for answers, is universal. The dream sequences, Stephen’s crises of sexuality, are the most visually stunning and materially interesting parts of this piece, and they are unfortunately few and far between.