The Dull Flame of Desire

I love your eyes, my dear
Their splendid sparkling fire
When suddenly you raise them so
To cast a swift embracing glance
Like lightning flashing in the sky
But there is a charm that is greater still
When my love's eyes are lowered
When all is fired by passion's kiss
And through the downcast lashes
I see the dull flame of desire

- Fyodor Tyutchev



This beautiful poem appears at the end of Tarkovsky's film Stalker. I found myself thinking of it last night while reading Hallucinating Foucault. The book tells the story of Paul Michel, a celebrated French novelist who is so distraught at Foucault's death that he becomes insane. The novel's narrator is an English student studying Michel's work who sets out to rescue the writer, so bringing the author's words and the author's world together in a dangerous mixture of intimacy, madness and self-discovery.

It is also a story about the love between readers and writers.

In an interview regarding the book, the author says"Foucault once said, 'I wrote all my books to make boys fall in love with me.' And I think there's an element to that in all writing - books are messages in bottles.