Erotic letters from James Joyce

Something that caught my attention was coming across the correspondence between James Joyce And his wife Nora Barnacles. The intense eroticism that such letters exude touch the boundary between the hinted and the explicit at many points. And at times, it touches the limit between what is explicit and what is too, excessively explicit.

The eroticism and sensuality of the writers is the point where they are best discovered, and particularly in this type of correspondence, where mutual need seems to force us to be close, giving us the most "dirty" to try (as Joyce says in one of his letters) of those whose name has been exalted for its "cleanliness."

Here I share with you some of the letters:

November 22, 1909 - 44 Fontenoy Street, Dublin

Dearest, your telegram was in his heart that night. When I wrote you those last letters, I was in utter despair. I thought I had lost your love and your esteem ... as well as deserved. Your letter this morning is very sweet, but I am waiting for the letter that you would probably write after sending the telegram.

I still do not dare, my dear, to be familiar with you, until you give me permission again. I have a feeling I shouldn't, even though your letter is written in your old, familiar, mischievous tone. I mean when you talk about what you will do, if I disobey you on a certain issue.

I'm going to venture to say just one thing. You say you want my sister to wear underwear for you. No, dear, please. I don't like anyone, not even a woman or a girl, to see things that belong to you. I wish you were more careful not to leave certain of your clothes lying around, I mean when they just got home from the laundry. Oh, I wish you would keep all those things hidden, hidden, hidden. I would like you to have a lot of underwear of all kinds, of all kinds of delicate colors, stored, ironed and perfumed.
How terrible it is to be away from you! Have you accepted your poor lover back into your heart? I will be impatient for your letter, and yet I thank you for your loving telegram.
Don't ask me to write you a long letter now, my dear. What I have written has saddened me a bit. I'm tired of sending you words Our glued lips, our arms entwined, our eyes failing in the sad joy of possession would please me more.
Forgive me my dear. I intended to be more reserved. And yet I must long for you and long for you and long for you.

December 2, 1909 - 44 Fontenoy Street, Dublin

My dear, maybe I should start by asking your forgiveness for the amazing letter I wrote you last night. While I was writing it, your letter rested next to me, and my eyes were fixed, as they still are now, on a certain word written on it. There is something obscene and lewd about the very appearance of the cards. Also its sound is like the act itself, brief, brutal, irresistible and diabolical.

My dear, do not be offended by what I write. You thank me for the beautiful name that I gave you. Yes, my dear, "my beautiful wild flower of the hedges" is a nice name! My dark blue flower, soaked by rain! As you can see, I still have something of a poet. I will also give you a beautiful book: it is the poet's gift for the woman he loves. But, by his side and within this spiritual love that I feel for you, there is also a wild beast that explores every secret and shameful part of him, each of his actions and smells. My love for you allows me to pray to the spirit of eternal beauty and tenderness that is reflected in your eyes or to bring you down below me, on your soft breasts, and take you from behind, like a pig riding a sow, glorified in the sincere stink rising from your rear, glorified in the bare shame of your turned-up dress and your white girlish panties and in the confusion of your rosy cheeks and disheveled hair.

This allows me to burst into tears of pity and love for you because of the sound of some chord or musical cadence or to lie down with my head on my feet, tail to tail, feeling your fingers caress and tickle my testicles or feel you rub your butt against me and your burning lips suck my cock while my head makes its way between your plump thighs and my hands attract the padded curve of your buttocks and my tongue voraciously licks your thick red sex. I have thought of you almost to the point of fainting when hearing my voice singing or murmuring to your soul the sadness, passion and mystery of life and at the same time I have thought of you making dirty gestures with your lips and tongue, provoking me with obscene noises and caresses and doing in front of me the dirtiest and most shameful act of the body. Do you remember the day you pulled up your clothes and let me lie down under you to see how you did it? Then you were embarrassed to even look me in the eye.

You are mine, my dear, you are mine! I love you. All I wrote above is a single moment or two of brutal insanity. The last drop of semen has been injected with difficulty into your sex before everything is over and my true love for you, the love of my verses, the love of my eyes, for your strangely tempting eyes comes blowing over my soul like a wind of scents. My cock is still stiff, hot and shaken after the last, brutal envestment that he has given you when he hears a tenuous hymn rise, of pious and tender worship in your honor, from the dark cloisters of my heart.

Nora, my faithful darling, my mischievous sweet-eyed schoolgirl, be my whore, my lover, whatever you want (my little handjob lover! My bitch bitch!) You are always my beautiful wild flower of the hedges, my blue flower dark soaked by rain.

December 3, 1909 44 Fontenoy Street, Dublin

My dear little girl of the nuns: there is some star very close to the earth, because I am still prey to an attack of feverish and animal desire. Today I would often stop abruptly in the street with an exclamation, whenever I thought of the letters I wrote you last night and the night before. They must have looked horrible in the cold light of day. Perhaps you disliked their rudeness. I know that you are a much finer person than your strange lover and, although it was yourself, you horny little girl, who wrote first to tell me that you were impatient for me to fuck you, still I suppose that the wild filth and obscenity of my answer has exceeded all limits of modesty. When I received your express letter this morning and saw how loving you are to your despicable Jim, I was ashamed of what I wrote. However, now the night, the secret and sinful night, has fallen on the world again and I am again alone writing to you and your letter is once again folded in front of me on the table. Don't ask me to go to bed, dear. Let me write to you, dear.

As you know my dear, I never use obscene words when speaking. You've never heard me, have you, uttering an inappropriate word in front of other people. When the men here tell dirty or lewd stories in front of me, I hardly smile. And yet you know how to turn me into a beast. It was you, you, who slipped your hand into my pants and gently pushed my shirt aside and touched my cock with your long, tickling fingers and little by little you took it whole, fat and stiff as it was, with your hand and You gave me a handjob slowly until I came between your fingers, without stopping leaning over me, or looking at me with your calm and holy eyes. Your lips were also the first to utter an obscene word. I remember very well that night in bed in Pola. Tired of lying under a man, one night you tore your nightgown violently and climbed on top to ride me naked. You put your cock in your pussy and started riding me up and down. Maybe I wasn't horny enough, as I remember you leaned into my face and tenderly murmured, "Fuck me, darling!"

Nora dear, I was dying all day to ask you a question or two. Allow me, my dear, for I have told you everything I have done in my life; So, what can I ask you, in turn. I don't know if you will answer them. When that person whose heart I crave to stop with a revolver shot put his hand or hands under your skirts, did he just tickle you on the outside, or did he stick his finger or fingers? If it did, did they go up high enough to touch that cock on the end of your cunt? Did it touch you from behind? Was he tickling you for a long time and did you come? Did he ask you to touch it and did you do it? If you didn't touch it, did it come on you and did you feel it?

Other questions, Nora. I know I was the first man to fuck you, but did a man ever jerk you off? Did that boy you liked ever do it? Tell me now, Nora, answer the truth with the truth and the sincerity with the sincerity. When you were with him at night in the dead of night, did your fingers never, ever unbutton his pants or slide inside like mice? Did you ever jerk him off my dear, tell me the truth, him or anyone else? Didn't you ever, ever, ever feel the cock of a man or a boy on your fingers until you unbuttoned my pants? If you are not offended, don't be afraid to tell me the truth. Darling, darling tonight I have such a wild desire for your body that if you were here by my side and even if you told me with your own lips that half the red-haired louts in the Galway region fucked you before me, I would still run to you dead with desire.

Almighty God, what kind of language is this that I am writing to my proud blue-eyed queen? Will you refuse to answer my rude and insulting questions? I know I risk a lot by writing like this, but if you love me, you will feel that I am crazy with desire and that I must tell you everything.
Honey, answer me. Even when I found out that you had also sinned, perhaps I would feel even more united to you. Anyway, I love you. I have written and said things to you that my pride would never allow me to say to any woman again.
My dear Nora, I am gasping for your answers to these filthy letters of mine. I am writing to you clearly, because now I feel that I can keep my word to you. Don't be angry, dear, dear, Nora, my wild flower of the hedges. I love your body, it yearns for it, I dream about it.

Speak to me dear lips that I have kissed with tears. If these crap that I have written offend you, make me regain my mind again with a lash, as you have done before. God help me!
I love you Nora, and it seems that this is also part of my love. Excuse me! Excuse me!

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  1.   jose leonardo arango said

    I think your letters are very interesting and passionate. I think you are a person who is very clear about what he wants and you would achieve it because your letters are exciting. thanks for being like heres

  2.   Joaquin Martinez said

    When they leave the books the writers are sad ... Little man Joyce ... and the gilada deified ulises !!!

  3.   Galatea said

    Very good. And thank you for sharing these letters where erotic love is poetry.

  4.   Marie said

    It fills me with pleasure to see how a genius of literature also put all his words at the service of his love, of his most intimate desires ... which by the way are part of the first.

    And gentlemen, please, do not accuse this man ... he did nothing more than show the deepest instincts of his manhood to the lady who had captivated him in private ...

    We can't deny it .. this is love too.

  5.   Senile said

    I share most of the comments here exposed and those that I do not share I respect….
    to people who do not like something just say pass and nothing else you do not get anything with wearing yourself out writing to leave your bad wave 😉
    the letters are already written and period
    by the way they are mother, great to exploit that part of each being, get everything k flow eroticism, k advance sex and minds open to new experiences
    It matters if you are with «H» or without «H» the letter is understood =
    By the way, if there is a kid, asshole looking at this is the parents' fault, they let the cabreria go free
    aaahh !!! If they noticed, do not put periods, do not commas or anything, because I know that he or she who reads this will know what I meant and do xdd

  6.   sweet rosemary said

    Those letters have a lot of passion, I love all that lust, that madness of wanting to possess that woman who is no longer his ... I love it

  7.   alejandra said

    I am passionate about everything that has to do with passion and sex .... these letters are very hot ... the author is very good

  8.   Fernando said

    Who in their right mind can judge these beautiful cards? Whoever does it, simply does not know human nature, has not lived the naked language of love and eroticism. They seem beautifully raw and sincere to me. I don't find anything vulgar in something as beautiful, poetic and normal as human sex.

  9.   Ali said

    All women would like a man who loves us to describe his feelings, the love he feels and the passion that can be aroused until he becomes a wild man full of passion and tenderness at the same time. I love the way Joyce expresses her wishes and her love.

  10.   Manuel said

    My opinion is that they are quite risque letters and that obviously they were of interest only to Joyce and her lover. In particular, I don't think they help the writer much because they can create another perception than the one we had of the great writer. Some even qualify them as pornographic. As I said, they do not help the great writer much and they were clearly intimate in character. I don't think he would have liked it to be disclosed!

  11.   Juan said

    I feel a certain frustration when I see that there are only 3 letters, after having read them I have the need for more.

  12.   Victor said

    Love has one and a thousand ways of expressing and James was a genius, the sincerity in his statements and the way to elevate his idolatry for his partner makes us wonder, if we had not done the same.

  13.   Fernando said

    Sex is very natural and normal. These letters are not pornographic at all. It would be pornographic if James Joyse had written these letters to sell and profit from them. He simply wrote them in intimacy with the woman he loved.

  14.   Erika said

    Hi! I would like to know if there is some type of compilation where all the letters are, I understand that yes, I am from Mexico and I had to see a staging that had to do with the letters and that aroused my interest in knowing more, please an answer!

  15.   NicePalonia said

    To me they are not "Poor Nora, poor James Joyce." Poor are the forgotten, those who have died and remain in absolute anonymity. Nor do I agree with that: "They don't deserve it." I think they do deserve it, he for having harbored in his heart a love so deep, so human, so wild, that it has inspired him to be able to spill those sublime words on paper and she for being able to awaken a similar passion in a a man with so many resources to be able to express his most sublime and most perverse emotions for the skin of his beloved. There will be many who are scandalized by those words, but many others, we will love those letters, we will devour them and we will keep them in our memory with the zeal of having been able to glimpse a foreign paradise, but no less beautiful than our own lived.

  16.   Rachel Sierra said

    to me, seeing nothing about sex and the feelings they release are bad good cards

  17.   Rigail Martial said

    Joice, the creator of the INNER MONOLOGO in his ULISYSS, did not write his letters for us to read, he wrote them for his beloved to read. Its content belongs only to them as their deep and human love. But if for some reason, they have come to us, mocking the intimacy of the correspondence, let's not be sexual hypocrites, because, who more or less, must walk the erotic path of love, today or tomorrow. If not, say, on the first day of death, that you have not experienced carnal love in all its magnitude.

  18.   Camila said

    He knows how to play right where we women like

  19.   María Rosal (Fernán‐Núñez, Córdoba, 1961) is a complete writer. She has published children's theatre, has received the Andalusian Critics' Award (2004), the Children's Poetry Award (2007) and the José Hierro National Poetry Award for Carmín rojo sangre (2015). Her poetic work has been translated into English, Italian and Greek.<br/> <br/> This is her second book for children in edebé, after the funniest title, El secreto de las patatas fritas.<br/> <br/> Maria has a very funny sense of humour. said

    Very surprised and amazed! I have read really incredible comments. Yes incredible ... it turns out that they allow themselves to question and even reference pornography. I find those letters great (keep in mind that they were private), the bond between Joyce and Nora was obviously very intimate with OPEN AND SINCERE thinking. I think that many opinions are of hypocritical people and cheap morality.

    I loved them… they are sincere, loving, erotic… Joyce is a passionate gentleman for Nora. Why question and express an opinion with absurdities and ignorance? Open your mind! The devil will not come looking for them. You do not love passionately, you do not know how to be sincere ...
    One opinion expresses its concern that a child will see them ... as I inform him that every day all children see horrible situations (a TV newscast for example), mistreatment from close people ... anyway; human stupidity, hypocrisy and ignorance have their representatives around here .... try to improve those aspects.

  20.   Sergio quintana said

    Tribute ourselves if the woman who loves us by writing those lines would not rise in the most exciting ecstasy? This is beautiful, it is amazing, it is the naked language of the best eroticism that burns, of the love that burns, those who do not like their positions are very respectable; each one has their magic inside and transmits it.