Better never to lay eyes on a man, never to have seen one. Read More >
Ever since I was a child, I’ve been frightened: the look of men, yoking up the oxen, picking up sacks of wheat, calling to each other, their thick voices, their thick boots. Every time I passed, fear of their hands, of their touch. God made me weak and ugly. It’s his way of keeping them away.
So pronounces one of five unmarried daughters before her elder sister, being the richest if least attractive of the bunch, is hastily betrothed. The youngest, burning with desire, begins a passionate, clandestine affair with her sister’s suitor. She’s spied upon by a jealous sibling, with devastating consequences.
The poet Federico García Lorca was murdered by Franco’s supporters on 18 August 1936, just two months after he finished his masterpiece of love, oppression and loathing.