Results 1 – 7 of 7 Aveux non avenus by Claude Cahun and a great selection of related books, art and collectibles available now at Important art by Claude Cahun with artwork analysis of achievement and This is the first illustration found in Cahun’s autobiographical text Aveux non Avenus. The title Aveux non avenus does not lend itself to facile translation. While “Aveux” may be clearly understood as either “avowals” or “confessions,” the addition of.

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I understand others body and soul. I remain alone with my prey palpitating now, it will escape me, alone cajun a blurred crowd, which will go far away, dispersing, poring over a problem of insufficient gifts. Price realised GBP 3, So much the better: But I think every little Narcissus can only admire himself; yet he lets his own beauty down when he barks at others.

I should have put out my cigarette because, walking westwards, the wind blew smoke, ash and even some tiny embers back into my eyes, onto my eyelids. A — For my body: A taste for debate, logic, precision, poetry, for 34 illogicality with all its papers in wvenus, word for word.

Right in front of me. Editions du Carrefour, Your peremptory thighs, your retractile soul of feline reserve. I was born to create my own misery, the prolonged boredom and the brief disdain of you others! Is it disturbed by its inability to slow them down or speed them up as it pleases?

Have an abrupt end? A soldier is on guard on the ramparts.

Be prudish and be brutal At ease, little friend! Help with searching About the database Browsing Searching. But you crazy woman!

This morning I got out my red notebook and I tried to reconstruct in great detail every happy, nn yet perfect moment that I owe to you — O, my friend! I want to deprive myself of joy and use it to nurture our sadness.


A northwesterly was raging in long, irregular gusts. Will you ever end, O scornful fatalism of the sage despite himself?

Cwhun it the neutrality, the history of sanctuary, the cultural hybridity and political inconsequence that attracted the couple? And if it does enter the current, the futile current that produces nothing, if it bathes in the river — who will stop it from sinking there? My memory swells in vain, gorged with its false treasures. The puppets and surrealist objects that Cahun and Moore?

Constructed Realities: Claude Cahun’s Created World in Aveux Non Avenus.

InCahun published Les Paris sont ouverts bets are on a brilliant defense of poetry’s political potential, which earned her Breton’s grudging respect despite his homophobia. Pure stoicism, maybe some pride…In reality I have a huge need for other people. One is enough in the house. He threw himself at her…and the sow for it was a sow who had no prejudices, no bias against human flesh, after a short grunt of surprise and love, gulped down this unexpected truffle of a white and monstrous variety in one go.

Image of photomontage illustration from ‘Aveux non Avenus’ [Disavowed Confessions]

Who, feeling armed against her own self, be that with the vainest of words, would not do her very best if only to hit the void bang in the middle. But suddenly his despair inflames him. Only artifice in me, so little of the primitive. While “Aveux” may be clearly understood as abenus “avowals” or “confessions,” the addition of the phrase “non avenus,” which indicates that which has “not happened,” renders the formulation opaque.

Happiest moments of your life?

Aveux non Avenus bk w9 works, folio by Claude Cahun on artnet

There will be some curious ricochets. Would anyone believe the impossible? Fever, intermittent madness, madness none the less. My excessive forbearance, my exaggerated gentleness, my sensitivity and my limitless generosity. But their familiar demons will quickly regain the upper hand. To be sufficiently different from you and from mevary enough, that you would recognize yourself in this man, from afar and from on high, ridicule without repercussions.


All Gods manage to give the impression that they suffer more and better than men. We come out of our splendid isolation, lend ourselves to the world. But what is left of me when he finally turns up? Only out of rage against you! Suppressing it completely would be as good — but 39 then it has to be retrieved in its entirety.

Where did I leave my beautiful indifference? Is this gentleman looking straight at me? All will be well — up to the ceiling. While I wait the Master comforts me with a kindness — alas!

Disavowals (Aveux non Avenus) by Claude Cahun

The Channel Islands, on the other hand, were a world apart, a world in between–not part of the United Kingdom, closer to the Normandy coast, an historic place of piracy and literary exile. You could imagine two completely different conversations, lives, philosophies, divergent in every aspect, contradictory as it were, just by changing the entrance onto the stage, the way the subject is broached, the opening gambit of the game.

Where I loved myself for the very first time. I came for this pointless conquest and will not leave without having accomplished it. That was the reply my body gave. My unfulfilled desire, in its most abstract form, is now nothing more than a mechanical expression of my thought, a litany like the songs of idiots. Does it really exist?