Welcome to my Blogvent Calendar. I will post a picture and some overly personal commentary every day until Christmas Eve, when we will all eat too many mince pies, drink one too many sherries, become over-emotional and fall asleep. I will start as I mean to go on with a semi-naked lady in the snow.
Heart of Snow Edward Robert Hughes
Now, far be it for me to point out the folly of sprawling around in the snow with your boob out (we’ve all been there), but I’m hoping she is a metaphor, albeit one with a cold arse. I love the rather cloud-like texture to the snow she is reclining in, and to start with I thought she was an angel. She appears to exist in some glacial wasteland, dangling her legs over a cliff with only a bird for company. Is it a dove? It has awfully big wings and looks a little bit predatory, like a hovering hawk. Thinking about the title, does Hughes mean that she is a nymph-like personification of snow or that she actually has a cold heart? She seems self-contained, unbothered by her surroundings, so is it a criticism of the woman, cold and unbothered by her lover’s attention? Is her heart as unfeeling as the perilous shafts of ice that jut towards the bird in the background, repelling and dissuading?
Happy Christmas! Sorry, I’m sure she is just a nymph, she is the love and beauty, the ‘heart’, of the cold weather. Hughes may be saying that when the snow falls and covers the land, it holds the same exquisiteness as a beautiful woman (with her boob out in the snow).
I think I added too much brandy to the mincemeat…see you tomorrow.