Literary notes about torrid (AI summary)
The term torrid is deployed with remarkable flexibility in literature, invoking both the relentless, oppressive heat of natural environments and the fervent burst of human passion. Writers frequently use torrid to describe sweltering, sun-baked landscapes—from the literal searing heat of a desert noon to expansive climatic zones defined by the Tropic of Capricorn [1][2][3][4]—while simultaneously channeling it as a metaphor for intense emotional states or raw, unchecked desire [5][6][7]. This dual usage enriches narratives by imbuing settings and characters alike with a charged atmosphere, where the physical and the metaphorical meld into a landscape as vibrant as it is inhospitable [8][9].
- Do you not feel the terrible, torrid heat?
— from A Journey to the Centre of the Earth by Jules Verne - It is divided into two unequal parts by the Tropic of Capricorn, and consequently belongs partly to the South Temperate, partly to the Torrid Zone.
— from The New Gresham Encyclopedia. Atrebates to Bedlis Vol. 1 Part 3 by Various - It was hot, torrid noon when we arrived at Batum on the Black Sea.
— from Margaret Sanger: an autobiography. by Margaret Sanger - The torrid zone is all that space surrounding the globe contained between the tropics, having the equator running through the middle of it.
— from The Study of Astronomy, adapted to the capacities of youth In twelve familiar dialogues, between a tutor and his pupil: explaining the general phænomena of the heavenly bodies, the theory of the tides, &c. by Stedman, John, teacher of astronomy - How I hate the torrid Touches of your splendid lips, And the kiss that drips and drips!
— from Riley Love-Lyrics by James Whitcomb Riley - And in the negro's face shone a persuasive glitter of the old, untamable, torrid ferocity of his tribe—not pleasing to Augustus.
— from Cudjo's Cave by J. T. (John Townsend) Trowbridge - Oh grant me--as upon your knees my head I lay, (Because the white and torrid summer I regret), To taste the parted season's mild and amber ray.
— from The Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire - The ice-cold heart that passion seldom warms, Would find heat torrid in that queen's soft arms.
— from Poems by Victor Hugo - Days dragged on; days of torrid, relentless heat.
— from Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910 by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards
