I found the most oh so perfect book in the world it is called ‘idols of perversity’ by Bram Dijkstra and it is about feminine monstrosity in fin de siecle art!
"I want never to be anything but a child walking in the shadow of your dress. When I was very small, I folded my hands to say the name of Mary. My cradle was white, my body was white, all my thoughts were white. I saw you distinctly, I heard you call me, I went to you in a smile of rose petals. And nothing else. I did not feel, I did not think, I lived barely enough to be a flower at your feet. Men should not grow up. Only blond heads should surround you, only a race of children who love you, their hands pure, their lips healthy, their limbs tender, without dirt, as if they were slipping out of a bath of milk. You kiss a child’s soul on his cheek. Only a child can say your name without making it dirty."
— Emile Zola, ‘The Sin of Father Mouret’
