Anger

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Sexual Outlaw (1977)

  Nudging aside the doctrine of separation of church and state, the Virginia majority traced anti-homosexuality to the Bible, quoting the familiar admonishments from Leviticus and including the exhortation that homosexuals “shall surely be put to death.” Certainly their enlightened honors were not signaling the state for more drastic punishment? In a humane and intelligent dissent, District Judge Merhige chastised the two majority judges: “… in the absence of any legitimate interest of rational basis to support the statute's application we must, without regard to our own proclivities, … hold the statute … to be violative of … the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States.… Private consensual sex acts between adults are matters … in which the State has no legitimate interest.” Pointing out the majority's nifty separation of heterosexual acts from homosexual acts, Judge Merhige continued: “To say … that the right of privacy … is limited in matters of marital, home, or family life is unwarranted under the law … is inconsistent with current Supreme Court opinions and is unsupportable.… That the right of privacy is not limited to the facts of Griswold is demonstrated by later Supreme Court decisions.… [In Eisenstadt v. Baird (1972)] the Court declined to restrict the right of privacy in sexual matters to married couples … [and] to a great extent vitiated any implication that the State can … forbid extramarital sexuality.… The right to select consenting adult sexual partners must be considered within this category … whether heterosexual or homosexual. [The State of Virginia] … made no tender of any evidence that even impliedly demonstrated that homosexuality causes society any significant harm.… To suggest, as defendants do, that the prohibition of homosexual conduct will in some manner encourage new heterosexual marriages and prevent the dissolution of existing ones is unworthy of judicial response.… I can find no authority for intrusion by the State into the private dwelling of a citizen. … the issue centers not around morality or decency, but on the Constitutional right of privacy.” In words as succinctly eloquent as any pronounced in support of true judicial understanding, the dissenting judge admonished: “What we know as men is not [to be] forgotten as judges.” Nevertheless: “Judgment affirmed,” said the Supreme Court about the Virginia majority opinion—and dismissed, without hearing, the appeal. (Supreme Court Justices Brennan, Marshall, and Stevens would have heard the matter.) Affirmed: The ancestral judgments of frightened men. Affirmed: The spilling of blood demanded by the Bible. Affirmed: The burnings and incarceration of the dark and “enlightened” ages. Affirmed: Prosecutions, blackmailings, muggings, attacks, literal and symbolic assassinations and murders. Affirmed: The psychological and physical torture of gay children—and adults.

• From Collected Essays (1998)

  And it isn't long-in fact it begins when he is in school-before he discovers the shape of his oppression. Let us say that the child is seven years old and I am his father, and I decide to take him to the zoo, or to Madison Square Garden, or to the U.N. Building, or to any of the tremendous monuments we find all over New York. We get into a bus and we go from where I live on 131st Street and Seventh Avenue downtown through the park and we get into New York City, which is not Harlem. Now, where the boy lives-even if it is�_;l _ _ housing projc�.:r_}s rn·-a;1 undesirable nclghbcirYi�od. If he lives in one of those housing projects of which- everyoi1e in New York is so proud, he has at the front door, if not closer, the pimps, the whores, the junkies-in a word, the danger of life in the ghetto. And the child kfiews this, though be doesn't know . .why. I still remember my first sight of New York. It.-�....-(9lly a!!..ot�g_sitr_�.lJ��asj).orp���-We looked down over the Park Avenue streetcar tracks. It was Park Ave nue, but I didn't know what Park Avenue meant downtown. The J?arkj\.venue I grew up Ol!_��hi.�_h_ i_s.�!.il.Lstanding, is dark aD§_qir�y,. No one wo.tilddream of opening a Tiffany's on that Park Avenue, and when you go downtown you discover that you are literally in the white world. �t is rich-:::::--or at leag...it loQks_ ric)1. It is clean-because they collect garbage down town. There arc doormen. People walk about as though they owned where they were-and indeed they do. And it's a great shock. It's very hard to relate yourself to this. You don't know what it means. You know-you know instinctively-that .n.ooe o(!his is fo r you. Y Q!J JcnQw this before you are tol�. And who is it for and who is paying fo r it? And why isn't it for you? Later on when you become a grocery boy or messenger and you try to enter one of those buildings a man says, "Go to the back door." Still later, if you happen by some odd chance to have a friend in one of those buildings, the man says, "Where's your package?" Now this by no means is the core of the matter. What I'm trying to get at is that by this time A TALK TO TEACHERS 681 the Negro child has had, effectively, almost all the doors of opportunity slammed in his face, and there are very few things he can do about it. He can m�:J!£2 _ !_l�£;t _ �.:;cc::pt it wi1h.. an absolutely inarticulate and d angerous rage inside-all the more dangerous because it is never expressed. It is precisely those silent people whom white people see every day of their lives-I mean your porter and your maid, who never say any thing more than "Yes Sir" and "No Ma'am."

• From Collected Essays (1998)

  In great pain and terror because, thereafter, one enters into battle with that historical creation, Oneself, and attempts to re-create oneself according to a principle more humane and more liberating: one begins the attempt to achieve a level of �sonal maturity a!J.d freed_Qm whk!Lr o !:>s_ history_of its ty� rannical power, and also changes histO_!:Y. · · But, obv1ously, I am speaking as an historical creation which has had bitterly to contest its history, to wrestle with it, and finally accept it, in order to bring myself out of it. My point of view certainly is formed by my history, and it is probable that only a creature despised by history finds history a ques tionable matter. On the other hand, people who imagine that history flatters thein(as It does, mdeed, since tfleY\vrote -It) are im12aled on their history like a butterfly on a pin and be come incapable of seeing or changing th emsclYcs_._Q[_ th e wodd. This is the place in which it seems to me, most white Amer icans find themselves. Impaled. They are dimly, or vividly, aware that the history they have fed themselves is mainly a lie, but the do not know how to release themselves from it, and they suffer enormous y rom t e resu tmg persona mcohcr ence. This incoherence is heard nowhere more plainly than in those stammering, terrified dialogues which white Americans sometime entertain with that black conscience, the black man in America. The nature of this stammering can be reduced to a plea: QQ not blame me, I was not there. I did not do it. My his!Qry_il�� I 1othing to do with Europe or the slave trade. Any w�l!:_\Y.<l� 1f!_Ur chic�_ who_s_old_Jou_t..o_me. I was not preseilt on the middle passage, I am not responsible for the textile mills of Manchester, or the cotton fields of Mississippi. Be sides, consider how the English, too, suffered in those mills and in those awful cities! I also despise the governors of south- OTHER ESSAYS ern states and the sheriftS of southern counties, and I also want your child to have a decent education and rise as high as his capabilities will permit. I have nothing against you, nothing! \Vhat ha,·e you got against me? What do you want?

• From The Unexpected Legacy of Divorce: A 25-Year Landmark Study (2000)

  I was always angry with somebody. I don’t think the divorce itself really affected me. What affected me was that my mom wasn’t around. I missed that we were not a regular family. I had nobody to talk to. I didn’t have any guidance. I know that Mom turned herself inside out to support us and I’ll always be grateful to her, but I remember her as absent. There were times when Mom would come home late from work and I’d need help with something for school. She’d get really uptight because she’d have an exam the next day and she needed to study. She’d tell me I’d have to do the best I could on my own for my school project because she needed to study. Then she’d lock herself in the bathroom. I remember sitting on the floor outside the bathroom door, listening to her turn the pages in her textbook. ” Although Paula’s material needs for food and shelter were taken care of, she felt abandoned. Years later, Paula and other children who are very young when their parents divorce remember one thing most: a vast, unsoothable sense of loneliness. They’re angry about being left so much to themselves. They know that their parents were overwhelmed by their own changed circumstances, but that’s not grounds for forgiveness. Those who shuttled back and forth between two homes complain of going from mommy’s sitter to daddy’s sitter without spending enough time with either parent. Little children who cannot comprehend their parents’ dilemmas conclude that they’re left alone because they aren’t important, particularly valued, or interesting to any adult. They blame themselves for being naughty to explain why their mothers go away. They blame their mothers for being faithless. When they’re older, they tend to linger at their playmates’ homes, hoping that they’ll be invited to stay for supper or maybe for the evening. Some have the very secret fantasy that they’ll be invited to join the other child’s family. Children at very young ages learn to be sensitive to their parents’ moods. In some of our heartbreaking videos of families going through a divorce, a toddler can be seen climbing onto her mother’s lap and stroking her cheek to comfort her. While grateful for attention, children learn not to expect or demand it. Some resourceful children learn to entertain themselves by watching many hours of television, but others are too little or too sad and sit listlessly, waiting for the parent to return or to get her attention. Others turn to animals for companionship and reciprocity of unconditional love. Recent scientific findings show that these little preschool children are right to feel seriously deprived. 4 Young children need continuous interaction with caring, nurturing grown-ups to learn about human emotions and to develop their capacity to think.

• From The Unexpected Legacy of Divorce: A 25-Year Landmark Study (2000)

  National reports tell us that children in remarriages leave home earlier than children in intact families. 5 Many feel unloved, unwanted, and excluded from the new family orbit. Some are very angry at their mothers and stepfathers. One young man said, “I was a hindrance— the leftover from a marriage that died.” The angriest were boys in their teens who were bitter about what they regarded as harsh discipline imposed unfairly by their stepfathers and mothers. I was frankly surprised to find the anger alive among a group of these young men years later. One thirty-year-old man who left home at age sixteen told me, “I was arrested for drunk driving the day after my best friend was killed. It was my first arrest ever. My mom and stepfather came to court like vigilantes and told the judge to throw the book at me. That’s when I moved out.” He said chillingly, “I’ll never forgive her as long as I live.” I met Billy a month later. “I always wanted to get out, always” Billy said vehemently as we walked slowly down the road to a bench under a shady tree. Now twenty years old, he was tanned, thin, and wiry, sporting a small mustache strikingly like the one his father had always worn. Since graduating from high school, Billy had worked full-time as a waiter and then as assistant manager in the restaurant that was now his home. His mother told me that Billy had started college at Sonoma State University but hadn’t liked it much and had dropped out after a quarter. When I asked Billy what had happened he snorted. “What did she tell you, that I couldn’t hack it, right? What does she know? I was only there one quarter. When I enrolled, Mom told me that she would pay for half the year and that Dad would pay for the other half—tuition and board. So I go to register for the second semester and I couldn’t because Dad hadn’t sent the tuition check. Then the dorm told me I had to move out because the money hadn’t been sent. I called Dad and he told me he’d had some temporary cash-flow problems and that Mom should pay it and he’d pay her back. Mom said she’d pay the tuition but she wouldn’t front the money for the dorm. So then I got a job to cover the room, but I was working nights and going to school and I got really tired and short of breath. I got scared about my heart and discouraged because it was hard to keep the grades up. I thought, ‘Fuck it—if my going to college isn’t important to them then it isn’t important to me, either.’ I came back here and I’ve been working ever since.” I had seen Billy’s father just the week before and found him as urbane and charming as ever.

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  Whether hypocrisy is always a mortal sin?Objection 1: It seems that hypocrisy is always a mortal sin. For Jerome says on Is. 16:14: “Of the two evils it is less to sin openly than to simulate holiness”: and a gloss on Job 1:21 [*St. Augustine on Ps. 63:7], “As it hath pleased the Lord,” etc., says that “pretended justice is no justice, but a twofold sin”: and again a gloss on Lam. 4:6, “The iniquity . . . of my people is made greater than the sin of Sodom,” says: “He deplores the sins of the soul that falls into hypocrisy, which is a greater iniquity than the sin of Sodom.” Now the sins of Sodom are mortal sin. Therefore hypocrisy is always a mortal sin. Objection 2: Further, Gregory says (Moral. xxxi, 8) that hypocrites sin out of malice. But this is most grievous, for it pertains to the sin against the Holy Ghost. Therefore a hypocrite always sins mortally. Objection 3: Further, no one deserves the anger of God and exclusion from seeing God, save on account of mortal sin. Now the anger of God is deserved through hypocrisy according to Job 36:13, “Dissemblers and crafty men prove the wrath of God”: and the hypocrite is excluded from seeing God, according to Job 13:16, “No hypocrite shall come before His presence.” Therefore hypocrisy is always a mortal sin. On the contrary, Hypocrisy is lying by deed since it is a kind of dissimulation. But it is not always a mortal sin to lie by deed. Neither therefore is all hypocrisy a mortal sin. Further, the intention of a hypocrite is to appear to be good. But this is not contrary to charity. Therefore hypocrisy is not of itself a mortal sin. Further, hypocrisy is born of vainglory, as Gregory says (Moral. xxxi, 17). But vainglory is not always a mortal sin. Neither therefore is hypocrisy.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  THE THIRTY-FIRST CHAPTER How Apuleius was cruelly beaten by the Mother of the boy that was slaine. In the meane season, while the Parents of the boy did lament and weepe for the death of their sonne, the shepheard (according to his promise) came with his instruments and tooles to geld me. Then one of them said, Tush we little esteeme the mischiefe he did yesterday, but now we are contented that to morrow his stones shall not onely be cut off, but also his head. So was it brought to passe, that my death was delayed till the next morrow, but what thanks did I give to that good boy, who (being so slaine) was the cause of my pardon for one short day. Howbeit I had no time then to rest my selfe, for the Mother of the boy, weeping and lamenting for his death, attired in mourning vesture, tare her haire and beat her breast, and came presently into the stable, saying, Is it reason that this carelesse beast should do nothing all day but hold his head in the manger, filling and belling his guts with meat without compassion of my great miserie, or remembrance of the pittiful death of his slaine Master: and contemning my age and infirmity, thinketh that I am unable to revenge his mischiefs, moreover he would perswade me, that he were not culpable. Indeed, it is a convenient thing to looke and plead for safety, when as the conscience doeth confesse the offence, as theeves and malefactors accustome to do. But O good Lord, thou cursed beast, if thou couldest utter the contents of thine owne mind, whom (though it were the veriest foole in all the world) mightest thou perswade that this murther was voide or without thy fault, when as it lay in thy power, either to keepe off the theeves with thy heeles, or else to bite and teare them with thy teeth? Couldest not thou (that so often in his life time diddest spurne and kicke him) defend him now at the point of death by the like meane? Yet at least, thou shouldest have taken him upon thy backe, and so brought him from the cruell hands of the theeves: where contrary thou runnest away alone, forsaking thy good Master, thy pastor and conductor. Knowest thou not, that such as denie their wholsome help and aid to them which lie in danger of death, ought to be punished, because they have offended against good manners, and the law naturall? But I promise thee, thou shalt not long rejoyce at my harmes, thou shalt feele the smart of thy homicide and offence, I will see what I can doe. And therewithall she unclosed her apron, and bound all my feete together, to the end I might not help my selfe, then she tooke a great barre, which accustomed to bar the stable doore, and never ceased beating me till she was so weary that the bar fell out of her hands, whereupon she (complaining of the soone faintnesse of her armes) ran to her fire and brought a firebrand and thrust it under my taile, burning me continually, till such time as (having but one remedy) I arayed her face and eies with my durty dunge, whereby (what with the stinke thereof, and what with the filthinesse that fell in her eies) she was welnigh blinded: so I enforced the queane to leave off, otherwise I had died as Meleager did by the sticke, which his mad mother Althea cast into the fire. THE EIGHTH BOOKE THE THIRTY-SECOND CHAPTER How a young man came and declared the miserable death of Lepolemus and his wife Charites.

• From The Sexual Outlaw (1977)

  Today it was the blond man's turn. They split. Jim walks on. A man drives up behind him, stops, motions him over. Jim is suspicious, the man stopped too quickly—hardly had a chance to see him. “Looking to make some money?” he asks Jim. Convinced the man is a vice cop—and he's driving a suspicious Plymouth—Jim walks right up to the window. The driver leans over. Jim says, “Fuck off!” Looking back, prepared to warn him, he sees that the blond hustler too is avoiding the same man. Despite its dangers, Jim loves this street. Despite— … He remembers with what anxiety he returned to it after years away. He blocks that memory. Another car has slowed down. But Jim doesn't encourage him either; he's got to be extra cautious. He's on probation. FLASHBACK: Selma. A Year and a Half Ago. He hadn't even seen the man. It was a Friday, like tonight. He had just been driven back to the street by a man he had just made money from. He hadn't noticed the car parked by the lot behind the Catholic church until the driver blew his horn at him. Jim glanced at him. The man waved him over. Jim crossed the street, stood on the sidewalk near the car. The man, slightly out of shape, veering toward premature middle-age, opened the passenger door. “Get in?” Jim did. “I got some bucks burning a hole in my pocket,” the man said. “I could use them,” Jim said. “I know an alley we can go to—haven't got much time.” “Uh, first let's get straight how much and what for,” Jim said “I, uh, don't do anything.” He was not at all attracted to this man; Jim would merely allow him to blow him. “Okay with me,” the man said. “I just dig your body. How's twenty bucks for a few minutes on a dark street?” When Jim agreed, the man started the car, drove on, turned the corner, stopped at the intersection at Sunset Boulevard. Two hands thrust suddenly from the sidewalk through the open window pulled Jim roughly back by the shoulders. “Vice officers!—you're under arrest,” both men said. Jim was handcuffed, taken to the Hollywood station, booked for prostitution, fingerprinted, frisked intimately about the groin. That night other street hustlers greeted each other noisily in jail throughout the night. Jim was bailed out by a friend. That same night—dark morning—he was back hustling on Selma. 5:55 P.M. Selma. He's on probation now—for about six more months. What angers Jim most is that in his arrest report—to cover up the illegal entrapment—the cop said Jim had approached him and asked for sexmoney; it angers him fiercely even to remember, because such an approach would violate his rigid style. A man has been circling the block, eyeing him, looking back, pausing, returning. After another U-turn, the man stops.

• From Querelle (1953)

  231 I QUERELLE consisting of two persons, a bizarre object of veneration exercis ing its spells on his young soul with devastating force; and no doubt the masons went there, too, to render homage to it, not carrying flowers, but their own fears and hopes. Roger also remembered that after this joke had been uttered (he did not know this, but it hadn't been merely a joke), one of the other masons shrugged his shoulders. At first Roger had been sur prised by the fa ct that a one-liner referring to the brothels could offend the sensibilities of a laborer whose shirt, open to the waist, displayed a large, hairy chest, whose hair was stiff and covered with chalk, dust and sunlight, whose chalk-powdered arms looked strong and hard-who was, in short, such an hombre. That shrugging response- to the joke and the laughter was now a disturbing element in the otherwise certain affirma tion of the existence of that secret cult. It introduced the sign of doubt into the faith, doubt and scorn; perennial fellow travelers of all rel igious belief. Roger went to see Gil every day. He brought him bread, butter, cheese, things he bought in a distant dairy close to the church of Saint-ivfartin, in a quarter where nobody knew him. Gil became more and more demanding. He knew that he was wealthy. His fortune, hidden close by, gave him sufficient authority to tyrannize Roger. He had finally become accus tomed to his recluse existence, made himself comfortable in it, moved within its limits with total confidence. The day after his attack on the Lieutenant he tried to find out from Roger what the newspapers were saying. Querelle, however, had told him not to tell the young kid anything about these jobs. Not being able to tell him, nor to get anything out of him, Gil grew furious with Roger. Then he realized that the boy was with drawing from him. "I've got to go now." ''Sure, sure. Now you're just dropping me!" "I am not dropping you, Gil. I come here every single day. But my old lady gives me a rough time wh enever I come home

• From Escape (2007)

  Ruth spoke softly. “Yes, Father, I have learned to never question you again. Thank you for your forgiveness.” I heard this in Merril’s office because he had sent for me. Merril was giving me a “correction.” If I would be as obedient to his will as Ruth, God’s love would allow Harrison to get better. What Merril was able to manipulate—as if he needed an excuse—was that there was no apparent medical reason doctors could offer to explain why Harrison wasn’t coming out of his spasms. The doctors had said that there was a possibility that Harrison could emerge from the spasms and be completely normal again. This was the kindling that Merril used to stoke the fires of his accusations toward me about the consequences of my rebellion. Luke was discharged the next day. His brothers picked him up and he walked out of the hospital without signing any papers. This created yet another uproar. The hospital called and insisted that Ruth come back, sign the discharge papers, and talk to his doctor about Luke’s follow-up care. Ruth explained the situation to Merril. He attacked her for her impudence and warned her that he might not be so forgiving of her behavior if she couldn’t learn to leave well enough alone. Ruth was practically shaking when she left Merril’s office. I witnessed endless episodes of this kind of behavior. Merril would berate her over almost anything, as he did the rest of us. What was different about Ruth was that she was less capable of outsmarting him and defending herself. The hospital called several days later, this time about the bill. Ruth told them to speak to Merril. He informed her that Luke’s bill was her responsibility. “The way I see it,” Merril said, “is that you are a single mother with sixteen children and I don’t give you any money. So I think the hospital will work with you and help you out.” Child Protective Services informed Merril several weeks later that he was being investigated because of Luke’s hospitalization. Merril was warned that he could lose his children if he was found to be abusing them. Merril screamed at the investigator over the phone, “Who do you think you are, calling and questioning me about my parenting? The way I parent my children is nobody’s business.” He told the man from CPS to go to hell. But the next day, the investigator showed up at our house. This was a rare occurrence. Child Protective Services rarely came into the community and hardly ever took children away from their abusive parents. Victims were so routinely sent back to perpetrators that people stopped making reports. My experience was that for the most part, Child Protective Services looked the other way at the endemic abuse that was happening in our community because it was easier than investigating large polygamous families.

• From Escape (2007)

  When Merril finished his tirade against me I looked at him and said, “Well, maybe since all there is to eat in this house are tomato sandwiches I will call Barbara while she’s eating a steak dinner with you and ask her for permission to make tomato sandwiches for dinner. That way everything can be done just the way she wants it.” If Merril had a gun he would have aimed it at me. I was scared of him, but I’d been pushed to the point where I didn’t care. Merril was seething. “Don’t you accuse me! You act like a tomato sandwich isn’t something that is good to eat!” I’d touched the untouchable and spoken the unspeakable. They were feasting while we were nearly starving. Everyone else in the room was so quiet I thought they were holding their breath. I was undeterred. I rarely stood up to Merril or Barbara, but when I was pushed too far, I had no fear of confronting them. I was fed up with their cruelty and constant put-downs. Merril’s other wives would complain once in a while, but he always belittled them and made it so painful they were disinclined to do it again. I think what was starting to crack open in me was my authentic self. I had been in survival mode. In a cult, you have two identities: your cult identity and your authentic self. Most of the time I operated from my cult identity, which was pliant, submissive, and obedient. But when I was pushed to the point where it felt like my survival was at stake, my authentic self came to the fore. The worse life became in Merril’s family, the more confidence I found in my authentic self. In a steady and sure voice I said to Merril, “If tomato sandwiches are so wonderful, then why aren’t you and Barbara eating them for lunch and dinner like the rest of us?” That was the shout that brought down the avalanche. The other women piled on in what became known as “the famous tomato sandwich fight.” My courage enabled the other women to find their own. They told Merril how unfair it felt to them to turn over whatever income they had and not receive anything in return. Their children were hungry, and they were, too. How could we be asked to sacrifice while Barbara and Merril lived like royalty? Barbara looked appalled and disgusted by what we were saying but let Merril do the talking.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  to her desert. You know well what you have determined already of this dull ass, that always eateth more than he is worth, and now who feigneth lameness, and that was the cause and helper of the flying away of the maid. My mind is that he shall be slain to-morrow, and when all the guts and en- trails of his body are taken out let the maid, whom he hath preferred to us, be stript and sewn into his belly, so that only her head be without, but the rest of her body be enclosed within the beast. Then let us lay this stuffed ass upon a great stone against the broiling heat of the sun ; so they shall both sustain all the punishments which you have ordained: for first the ass shall be slain as he hath deserved ; and she shall have her members torn and gnawed with wild beasts, when she is bitten and rent with worms ; she shall endure the pain of the fire, when the broil- ing heat of the sun shall scorch and parch the belly of the ass;, she shall abide the gallows, when the dogs and vultures shall drag out her innermost bowels. I pray you number all the torments which she shall suffer: first, she shall dwell alive within the paunch of the ass ; secondly, her nostrils shall receive the carrion stink of the beast; thirdly, she shall die for heat and hunger, and she shall find no means to rid herself from her pains by slaying herself, for her hands shall be sewn up within the skin of the ass." 'This being said, all the thieves consented not by their votes ! only, but with their whole hearts to the sentence ; and when I (poor ass) heard with my great ears and understood all their device I did nothing else save bewail and lament my dead carcass, which should be handled in such sort on the next morrow. 1 Lit. “by the feet”—a technical term taken from the voting-lobbies of the Senate. 297 LIBER VII 1 Ur primum tenebris abiectis dies inalbebat et candidum solis curriculum: euncta collustrabat, quidam de numero latronum pervenit; sic enim mutuae salutationis officium indicabat. Is in primo speluncae aditu residens et ex anhelitu recepto spiritu tale collegio suo nuntium facit: “Quod ad domum Milonis Hypatini quam proxime diripuimus pertinet, discussa sollicitudine iam possumus esse securi. Postquam vos enim fortissimis viribus cunctis ablatis castra nostra remeastis, immixtus ego turbelis popularium dolentique atque indignanti similis arbi- trabar super investigatione facti cuiusmodi consilium caperent, et an et quatenus latrones placeret inquiri, renuntiaturus vobis, uti mandaveratis, omnia. Nec argumentis dubiis sed rationibus probabilibus con: gruo cunctae multitudinis consensu nescioqui Lucius auctor manifestus facinoris postulabatur, qui proximis diebus fictis commendaticiis litteris Miloni sese virum commentitus bonum artius conciliaverat, ut etiam 298 BOOK VII

• From Querelle (1953)

  268 I JEAN GENET He didn't dare look at him. Madame Lysiane was in the ladies' room, masturbating. Like her, Roger was very excited by it all, and when he left La Feria and went on to the old prison, he was in such a vulnerable frame of mind that (to use a hideous but appropriate expression) Gil had no difficulty in breaking him in. If Querelle, as she had said to him a little sadly, didn't have such great powers of erection, his rod at least was no disappointment, it had been worth dreaming about. It was a · heavy, thick, rather massive cock, not elegant, but potentially vigorous. At long last Madame Lysiane found a little peace of mind, in that Querelle's member r�lly was different from Rober t's. There, at least, one could tell one from the other. At first Querelle accepted the patronne ' s advances rather noncha lantly, but as soon as he discovered that this could be a way of taking revenge on his brother for the humiliation he had caused him, he decided to speed up the affair. The first time, while he was taking off his clothes, his fury-revenge draw i ng near! made him move with such alacrity that Madame Lysiane imagined him to be in the clutches of wild desire. In reality, Querelle was entering this bout with his body on the defensive. His amorous submission to a real cop had liberated him. He was at peace. Whenever he met Nono with whom he no longer wished to enter into secret frolics, he was not surprised to find that Nono seemed in no hurry to remind him of them, either. It so happened that Mario had not told Querelle that he had taken care to tell Nono all about the new developments. Thus, all Querelle had to do was to satisfy his lust for revenge� Madame Lysiane undressed more slowly. The sailor's apparent ardor thrilled her. She was even naive enough to believe that she herself was its object. She was hoping that even before she was quite naked, the impatient, already glittering faun wo�ld charge out of the shrubbery to tumble her over on her back in a Burry of tom lace. Querelle lay down close beside her. At last he had an occasion to affirm his virility a nd to make his brother appear ridiculous. And Madame Lysiane had the painful experi-

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  validus sicario illi ferens auxilium lapide contorto tertii illius iuvenis dexterum brachium longo iactu petierat, sed impetu casso per extremos digitos trans- currens lapis contra omnium opinionem deciderat innoxius, Nonnullam tamen sagacissimo iuveni pro- ventus humanior vindictae speculam subministravit : ficta namque manus suae debilitate sic crudelissimum iuvenem compellat : * Fruere exitio totius nostrae familiae et sanguine trium fratrum insatiabilem tuam crudelitatem pasce, et de prostratis tuis civibus gloriose triumpha, dum scias, licet privato suis pos- sessionibus paupere fines usque et usque protermina- veris, habiturum te tamen vicinum aliquem. Nam haec etiam dextera, quae tuum prorsus amputasset caput, iniquitate fati contusa decidit." Quo sermone, alioquin exasperatus, furiosus latro rapto gladio sua miserrimum iuvenem manu perempturus invadit avidus. Nec tamen sui molliorem provocarat, quippe insperato et longe contra eius opinionem resistens iuvenis complexu fortissimo arripit eius dexteram, magnoque nisu ferro librato multis et crebris ictibus impuram elidit divitis animam, et ut accurrentium etiam familiarium manu se liberaret, confestim adhuc. inimici sanguine delibuto mucrone gulam sibi prorsus exsecuit. Haec erant quae prodigiosa praesaga- verant ostenta, haec quae miserrimo domino fuerant nuntiata. Nec ullum verbum ac ne tacitum quidem 460 THE GOLDEN ASS, BOOK IX help his master ; and at his first coming, he took upa stone and threw it from afar at the third brother, and struck his left arm, but by reason the stone ran by the ends of his fingers it fell to the ground and did not hurt him, which chanced otherwise than all men’s expectation was. Then did this fortunate chance give the young man, that was very wise, a hope for vengeance ; for he feigned that his arm was greatly wounded, and spake these words unto the cruel bloodsucker: * Now mayst thou, thou wretch, triumph upon the destruction of all our family ; now mayst thou feed thy insatiable cruelty with the blood of three brethren ; now mayst thou rejoice at the fall of thy fellow-citizens : yet think not but that how far soever thou dost remove and extend the bounds of th

• From Escape (2007)

  I didn’t think of him as my husband, a gift from God. I thought of him as “that man,” an egocentric bully whom I had been forced to marry, someone who had control over my life and my body. I hated depending on him financially. I still believed in my religion, but I knew Merril wasn’t following it the way he should. I knew the way he treated me and his other five wives was wrong, and yet he was a powerful man in the FLDS. I felt frustrated and confused. The breaking point came after a few months of running on empty. We had been out of things such as shampoo, toothpaste, and soap for weeks. Once winter came and the garden froze, the only food we had left in the house was cracked wheat, which we ate for breakfast, and the makings of tomato sandwiches, which we had for lunch and dinner. We’d picked the green tomatoes just before the frost and let them ripen in buckets. Every day we’d sort through them looking for some that were ripe enough to eat. I thought that once Merril realized we couldn’t feed ourselves from the garden now that it had frozen he’d be more attentive to the family. I was wrong. Merril and Barbara were still living large in Page. Whatever money Merril did make fueled their lifestyles and appetite for dining out and drinking wine. Barbara never had to scrimp or save. Barbara was so selfish, I thought she probably enjoyed eating in fancy restaurants while we were struggling at home. I was nursing Betty but very worried about Arthur. He was losing weight from lack of food. I also feared that if I didn’t get enough to eat I’d be unable to produce enough breast milk for Betty. I knew there was absolutely no money for formula. When Merril came home that November we had been in a deteriorating crisis for two months and our food supply was dwindling. Merril called all six wives into his office for a meeting. He decreed that only Barbara could implement changes in family policies or assign jobs. Merril was enthusiastic in explaining that now Barbara would preside over every detail of family life. “I have one question,” I said when Merril finished. “How can every one of us check in with Barbara before we tie our shoes if she’s rarely at home? I need to understand how this is going to work at a practical level.” Merril’s neck reddened and his face hardened. He was angry and started scolding me for questioning his decision. Merril hated to be challenged. None of the other wives spoke. But I knew they were as fed up with the abuse and degradation as I was.

• From Escape (2007)

  I was shocked. I told Cathleen I’d thought she had slept with him on her wedding night. “No, I have been married to him for a week now and he hasn’t stayed with me at all.” Tammy had not been badgering Merril as much in recent days because she thought he was sleeping with Cathleen. Now she knew the truth and stormed right up to Merril’s office. I followed, curious to hear what would happen. Barbara was with Merril. Tammy entered and said, “I guess for some men when they get a new wife it is off with the new and on with the old.” Merril started to laugh. Barbara chimed in. “Father, I think it would be good if you took Tammy and me on a drive to look at the Saturday work projects. Maybe Tammy would be interested in learning about her husband instead of you listening to how she feels.” I left the office as fast as I could. I didn’t want to get stuck driving around all day with the three of them listening to Merril’s sermons about all his good work. When they got back that night, Barbara said they’d decided Ruth needed to go to Hildale and have Aunt Lydia give her a vitamin B12 shot. This was ridiculous. Ruth had barely slept or eaten for a week. She needed major medical intervention, not a vitamin shot. Barbara went searching for her half sister and found her at the table, crying. “Ruth, you are to come with me at once. Merril has had enough of your nonsense. We’re going to Hildale for a B12 shot and then all this crying can end and you can straighten up and be some use to your husband.” Hildale was the clinic where we delivered our babies. Aunt Lydia was the wife of the bishop and acted as nurse and midwife. She had no degree, but her years of experience made her very reliable. She did most of the basic medical care in the community. Ruth lit into Barbara. “Get away from me right now. I am not going anywhere with you. You are all puffed up with pride and filled with the devil.” “Ruth, you are in rebellion to your husband and you are to stop this at once. I command it. If you rebel against me, then you are rebelling against your priesthood head and God will not be able to help you.” Barbara grabbed Ruth by the arm. Ruth found energy I didn’t know she had to push Barbara off her. After she did, she seized her by the throat and began choking her. She pushed Barbara back against the stove until the other woman was nearly lying on top of it. “I am going to kill you. You deserve to die for what you have done to me.” Ruth was enraged. Barbara managed to push herself free momentarily. She screamed, “Go get Merril!” before Ruth lunged again at her and pinned her down.

• From Escape (2007)

  I looked at him with what felt like fire blazing from my eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself with all the abundance of your power. I don’t have to have this baby at Hildale. I may choose a more private place, like on a public highway, off to one side!” I turned and walked away. I would not be humiliated by him. My due date was a few weeks later. I decided I would tell no one when I went into labor. I knew that Rosie, my father’s second wife, knew how to deliver babies because she was a nurse. I asked her if she would be there when I gave birth, but explained nothing else. She agreed. My plan was to call her when I went into second stage later. She’d come and pick me up. I knew that even if I had the baby in her car, it would still be better than starring in one of Merril’s freak shows. Merril and I had not spoken about my delivery since that angry confrontation after Cathleen gave birth. As my due date drew near, he did not return to Page after the weekend as he usually did. I felt my labor was imminent but tried to will it away for a few more days so he’d have to return to Page. It worked. The night he left I knew I had my chance. I walked for several miles after dinner, willing my labor to begin. In the middle of the night, it did. I could feel the first of the contractions begin, but they were faint and far apart. It was July 24th, or Pioneer Day, our biggest Mormon holiday. It was the day the entire community turned out for a parade through town. As soon as our house emptied out, I called Rosie. I sent Betty and Arthur to the parade with the family and told them I didn’t feel up to going. Then I called Merril in Page and got the answering machine. What a miracle! Now I knew that I had time to have the baby in private. Rosie came right away and had already alerted Aunt Lydia to meet us at the clinic. She and one of her assistants were waiting for me in the delivery room. The other woman said, “We’re supposed to be on the float in the parade. If we deliver this baby, we’ll miss the parade.” Aunt Lydia told me to push and turned to her whining assistant. “We can deliver this baby and still be in the parade.” “Not unless she has the baby in the next ten minutes,” she said. “This baby is going to be here in ten minutes,” Aunt Lydia said. She was right. LuAnne was a screaming, beautiful baby with a thick mass of dark hair. I smiled when I looked at her exquisite features. She was a triumph, and her birth, for me, a small victory for me over Merril’s oppression. Marrying into the Jeffs’ Family

• From Escape (2007)

  James never complained. But after several weeks, he came to me because Jason was harassing him. He warned me to stay away from him because the police had told James that Jason had raped several women in the area. None of the rapes had ever been prosecuted because the women were too terrified to press charges. No one in my life had ever worried about me until James did. “I have talked to Merril several times about this and have told him you should not be out here alone with Jason on the property.” I nodded in agreement. He was exactly right. “Why are the men from Colorado City so abusive to their wives?” James said, his face red, his speech quickened. “You’re in danger and your husband knows it. The police have told him and so have I.” This tough guy we called “Rattlesnake Man” touched my heart. He was strange in some of his ways, but he was far kinder and more concerned about me than Merril Jessop had ever been. Jason was not satisfied with just his one room. He soon commandeered the one next to it. I told him that was unacceptable because the motel was sold out for the upcoming weekend. He was furious with me and told James’ son Jimmy that he was going to dump acid in our well water. I told Jimmy to change every lock on every door that led to the shed where our well was. So Jason called the police, making wild accusations about Merril. When the police called Merril for his side of the story he finally stopped making excuses about Jason’s behavior and came to the motel a few days later to fire him. Merril would not stand for attacks on himself. The police came for the confrontation with Jason, which was stormy. He accused me of being abusive, hurtling accusations one after another. But no one was buying it. Dale, the police officer, finally insisted Jason leave the property. Then he turned to Merril and told him he needed to take me somewhere else. It wasn’t safe because Jason was directing all of his anger at me. James, who’d been in on the meeting, turned to Merril and said, “You have to get Carolyn out of here tonight. He might kill her if you leave her here.” Merril made light of James’ concerns. My world was so surreal that an ex-con who’d done twenty years for murder was more protective of me than my own husband. James went ballistic at Merril’s cavalier attitude. “Damn you, Merril. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. The man is dangerous. I’ll fucking kill him before I let him hurt your pregnant wife.” Dale turned to James and said that while his feelings were noble, he was looking at life in prison if he killed him. James was too angry to be intimidated. “Merril, you need to wake the hell up. Don’t put me in this position.”

• From Not That Bad: Dispatches from Rape Culture (2018)

  That’s because we never can let it go. Because where would we put it? What system? What faith? What institution has room? Has patience? Has understanding for an angry woman? Sandy, a woman in one of my Tuesday night groups, speaks softly, but carries years of abuse and pain inside her. She told me a story of a group of men at her church critiquing her appearance. “That,” she said, in a voice that I had to lean forward to hear, “makes me angry and, well, that’s just not nice, is it?” I pat the cushion next to me. What does nice have fuck all to do with anything? Put your anger here, my friend. Put it on this couch next to mine. I can feel their anger in me. It pulls at my skin and swells my heart. Their anger prickles my skin, like so many armies rising to fight. I am angry too. I am angry for them. Angry for me. Angry for all those women in homes with men on the roof, avoiding them. I can only facilitate this course once a year. I’m afraid the anger will break me. MY MOTHER TOLD ME I WAS ANGRY SINCE BIRTH; FAMILY lore, though, holds I was a happy child, up until the moment I wasn’t. I would suddenly start screaming inconsolably. “You would just have these freak-outs,” my mom likes to say, smiling. “Like you just needed to get it all out of you.” I have never known if the stories were apocryphal or self-fulfilling prophecies. The day my mother fully condemned my anger, we were in her SUV. We were sitting in front of my parents’ house in Florida, which was green stucco, eating Sonic burgers. The lawn thick and coarse was studded with my father’s plastic light-up flamingos. We had been running errands and talking about my wedding. My mother was angry at me. Angry because I hadn’t taken her suggestion of using silk flowers. Angry because I wanted to buy real ones, even if that meant more work. She was mad about the money too: I was taking some money from my in-laws to help with the wedding and I was dipping into my own savings to pay for it. This made her mad, but time has erased from my mind the precise reasons why. I said, “I abhor fake ones.” The taste of mayonnaise and meat still sat in my mouth. Even before I said those words, I knew they would make my mother snap. She turned off the car and gripped the wheel. The air was still between us. The clicking of the cooling engine seemed like a warning. I held my Coke in my hands. The Styrofoam was cold and pliable. I was sweating. I thought, I should grab the door. I should leave. I knew something was coming for me. Instead, I turned to face my mother.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  the physician, instead of that healthy drink, had pre- pared a mortal and deadly poison, that was rather sacred to the healing of the goddess of death, and when he had tempered it accordingly, he took the pot in presence of all the family and other neigh- bours and friends of the sick young man, and offered it unto the patient. But the bold and hardy woman, to the end she might destroy him that was privy to her wicked intent, and also gain the money which she had promised the physician, stayed the pot with her hand, saying: “I pray you, master physician, minister not this drink unto my dear husband until such time as you have drank some good part thereof yourself. For what know I, whether you have mingled any poison in the drink or no? Wherein I pray you not to be offended, for I know that you are a man of wisdom and learning, but this I do to the intent the conscience and love that I bear to the health and safeguard of my husband may be apparent." The physician, being greatly troubled at the marvellous and stubborn wickedness of the mischievous woman, was void of all counsel and leisure to consider on the matter, and lest he might give any cause of suspicion to the standers- by, or shew any scruple of his guilty conscience, by reason of long delay, he took the pot in his hand and presently drank a good draught thereof: which done, the young man, having now no mistrust by this example, drank up the residue. When all this was finished the physician would have gone immediately home to receive a counter-poison or antidote, to expel and drive out the first poison ; but the wicked woman, persevering in the constant mischief wherein she had begun, would not suffer hun to depart one foot until such time (as she said) 519 LUCIUS APULEIUS quam " inquit * Digesta potione medicinae proventus appareat," sed aegre precibus et obtestationibus eius multum ac diu fatigata tandem abire concessit, Interdum perniciem caecam totis visceribus furentem medullae penitus attraxerant: multum denique saucius et gravedine somnulenta iam demersus domum pervadit aegerrime, vixque enarratis cunctis ad uxorem, mandato saltem promissam mer- cedem mortis geminatae deposceret, sic elisus violenter spectatissimus medicus effundit spiritum. 27 Necille tamen iuvenis diutius vitam tenuerat, sed inter fictas mentitasque lacrimas uxoris pari casu mortis fuerat extinctus. lamque eo sepulto, paucis interiectis diebus, quis feralia mortuis litantur ob- sequia, uxor medici pretium geminae mortis petens aderat. Sed mulier usquequaque sui similis, fidei supprimens faciem, praetendens imaginem, blan- dicule respondit et omnia prolixe accumulateque pollicetur et statutum praemium sine mora se red- dituram constituit, modo pauxillum de ea potione largiri sibi vellet ob incepti negotii persecutionem. Quid pluribus? Laqueis fraudium pessimarum uxor inducta medici facile consensit, et quo se gratiorem