Showing posts with label Edith Sitwell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Edith Sitwell. Show all posts

Edith Sitwell (1887-1964)


Edith Sitwell (1887-1964)


Dame Edith Louisa Sitwell DBE (7 September 1887 – 9 December 1964) was a British poet and critic, eldest of the three literary Sitwells.


Like her brothers Osbert and Sacheverell, Edith reacted badly to her eccentric, unloving parents, and lived for much of her life with her governess. Never married, she became passionately attached to the gay Russian painter Pavel Tchelitchew, and her home was always open to London's poetic circle, to whom she was unfailingly generous and helpful.


Edith published poetry continuously from 1913, some of it abstract and set to music. With her dramatic style and exotic costumes, she was sometimes labelled a poseur, but her work was also praised for its solid technique and painstaking craftsmanship.[1]



Quotes·Quotations by Edith Sitwell


Rain


¶ Still falls the rain --
Dark as the world of man, black as our loss --
Blind as the nineteen hundred and forty nails upon the Cross [Still falls the rain]


Reading


¶ My personal hobbies are reading, listening to music, and silence.


@ I am patient with stupidity but not with those who are proud of it.



Images


Wikimedia Commons

Images: Sitwell Family; From left: Edith Sitwell (1887-1964), Sir George Sitwell, Lady Ida, Sacheverell Sitwell (1897-1988), and Osbert Sitwell (1892-1969)


[1] https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edith_Sitwell