First there was a book. In 1992 Donna Tartt gave us the the college novel and the story of a closely knit group of six classics students at a small, elite Vermont college. Then it was inspiration and desire to share it. Welcome to “The Secret Story” dream casting blog, containing all things related to "The Secret Story" as we see it.
“It's a very Greek idea, and a very profound one. Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely?"
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she seemed not at all her bright unattainable self but rather a hazy and ineffably tender apparition, all slender wrists and shadows and disordered hair
Henry Winter and Camilla Macaulay
Pluto and Persephone.
I looked at his back, prim as a parson’s, tried to imagine the two of them together.
![francisabernathys:
Charles Macaulay and Francis Abernathy
I said, “You like him a lot, don’t you?”I don’t know what made me say this. Francis didn’t blink. “I don’t know,” he said coldly, reaching for a cigarette with his long, nicotine-stained fingers. “I like him well enough, I suppose. We’re old friends. Certainly I don’t fool myself that it’s more than that. […] If he’s drunk, I’ll do. But - just when I’ve managed to harden my heart, he’ll turn around and be so sweet. I always fall for it. I don’t know why.”](http://24.media.tumblr.com/23cffb770722f53fe72dfb773ee615f9/tumblr_mjtqf37IU31qbcol5o1_500.jpg)
Charles Macaulay and Francis Abernathy
I said, “You like him a lot, don’t you?”
I don’t know what made me say this. Francis didn’t blink. “I don’t know,” he said coldly, reaching for a cigarette with his long, nicotine-stained fingers. “I like him well enough, I suppose. We’re old friends. Certainly I don’t fool myself that it’s more than that. […] If he’s drunk, I’ll do. But - just when I’ve managed to harden my heart, he’ll turn around and be so sweet. I always fall for it. I don’t know why.”
to sing, to scream, to dance barefoot in the woods in the dead of night, with no more awareness of mortality than an animal! these are powerful mysteries. the bellowing of bulls. springs of honey bubbling from the ground. if we are strong enough in our souls we can rip away the veil and look that naked, terrible beauty right in the face; let god consume us, devour us, unstring our bones. then spit us out reborn.
