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 World of Biblical Israel (2013)

  163 National Identity—Twins and Enemies Lecture 23 F ollowing the experiences of conquest, deportation, exile, return, and rebuilding, a central focus of Judean anger was Edom, a small kingdom east of Israel and Judah. Some of the exilic prophets composed oracles of judgment against Edom, simultaneously labeling it as cursed by the Israelite god and a twin of Jacob, Esau. In this association, we see Judeans working through their anger and sense of betrayal. Just as Dinah and Ruth became figures through which Israel renegotiated and debated the issues of intermarriage, Esau and the traditions surrounding him became the site for articulating Israel’s chosenness and superiority over Edom, while acknowledging the close cultural and historical relationship between the two peoples. Edom • Edom was one of three small trans-Jordanian kingdoms east of Israel and Judah. o During Judah’s monarchy, Edom’s territory began in the land southeast of the Dead Sea, while Judah occupied the land to the west of the Dead Sea. o Over time, the territory of Edom moved westward to the southern flank of Judah; by the time of the Persian period, Edom became known as the Persian province of Idumea, and its territory included land west of the Dead Sea that had once been part of Judah. • Again, thinking of our conceptual diagram of the composition and redaction of the Bible, some of the arrows moving forward from exile would include prophets composing oracles of judgment against Edom. These judgments simultaneously labeled Edom as cursed by the Israelite god and a twin of Jacob, Esau. Thus, if one of the questions posed by the exiles was “Who is the restored 164 Lecture 23: National Identity—Twins and Enemies Israel?” part of that answer would involve a clarification of Israel’s and Judah’s relationship with Edom. Obadiah • Obadiah is the shortest book in the Bible, just one chapter. Clearly, the author was writing in light of the conquest of Jerusalem, but it is difficult to determine how much historical distance he has from the events. He could be writing during or after the exilic experience. • In many ways, this prophetic book fleshes out some of the details that explain why Edom was singled out for revenge in Psalm 137. • While Psalm 137 calls on the Israelite god to “remember against Edom” concerning the event called “the day of Jerusalem,” Obadiah narrates how the Israelite god does just that. o Several times in this prophetic book, Edom is made synonymous with Esau, Jacob’s twin. We hear, for example, in

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  But after a while she began to fancy that Valérie’s eyes had become appraising. They were weighing her up and secretly approving the result, she fancied. A slow anger possessed her. Valérie Seymour was secretly approving, not because her guest was a decent human being with a will to work, with a well-trained brain, with what might some day become a fine talent, but rather because she was seeing before her all the outward stigmata of the abnormal—verily the wounds of One nailed to a cross—that was why Valérie sat there approving. And then, as though these bitter thoughts had reached her, Valérie suddenly smiled at Stephen. Turning her back on the chattering Brockett, she started to talk to her guest quite gravely about her work, about books in general, about life in general; and as she did so Stephen began to understand better the charm that many had found in this woman; a charm that lay less in physical attraction than in a great courtesy and understanding, a great will to please, a great impulse towards beauty in all its forms—yes, therein lay her charm. And as they talked on it dawned upon Stephen that here was no mere libertine in love’s garden, but rather a creature born out of her epoch, a pagan chained to an age that was Christian, one who would surely say with Pierre Louÿs: ‘Le monde moderne succombe sous un envahissement de laideur.’ And she thought that she discerned in those luminous eyes, the pale yet ardent light of the fanatic. Presently Valérie Seymour asked her how long she would be remaining in Paris. And Stephen answered: ‘I’m going to live here,’ feeling surprised at the words as she said them, for not until now had she made this decision. Valérie seemed pleased: ‘If you want a house, I know of one in the Rue Jacob; it’s a tumbledown place, but it’s got a fine garden. Why not go and see it? You might go to-morrow. Of course you’ll have to live on this side, the Rive Gauche is the only possible Paris. ‘I should like to see the old house,’ said Stephen. So Valérie went to the telephone there and then and proceeded to call up the landlord. The appointment was made for eleven the next morning. ‘It’s rather a sad old house,’ she warned, ‘no one has troubled to make it a home for some time, but you’ll alter all that if you take it, because I suppose you’ll make it your home.’ Stephen flushed: ‘My home’s in England,’ she said quickly, for her thoughts had instantly flown back to Morton. But Valérie answered: ‘One may have two homes—many homes. Be courteous to our lovely Paris and give it the privilege of being your second home—it will feel very honoured, Miss Gordon.’ She sometimes made little ceremonious speeches like this, and coming from her, they sounded strangely old-fashioned.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Upon occasion of a controversy between the Arians and the orthodox at Edessa, Julian confiscated the church property and distributed it among his soldiers, under the sarcastic pretence of facilitating the Christians’ entrance into the kingdom of heaven, from which, according to the doctrine of their religion (comp. Matt. xix. 23, 24), riches might exclude them. Equally unjust and tyrannical was the law, which placed all the state schools under the direction of heathens, and prohibited the Christians teaching the sciences and the arts.76 Julian would thus deny Christian youth the advantages of education, and compel them either to sink in ignorance and barbarism, or to imbibe with the study of the classics in the heathen schools the principles of idolatry. In his view the Hellenic writings, especially the works of the poets, were not only literary, but also religious documents to which the heathens had an exclusive claim, and he regarded Christianity irreconcilable with genuine human culture. The Galileans, says he in ridicule, should content themselves with expounding Matthew and Luke in their churches, instead of profaning the glorious Greek authors. For it is preposterous and ungrateful, that they should study the writings of the classics, and yet despise the gods, whom the authors revered; since the gods were in fact the authors and guides of the minds of a Homer, a Hesiod, a Demosthenes, a Thucydides, an Isocrates, and a Lysias, and these writers consecrated their works to Mercury or the muses.77 Hence he hated especially the learned church teachers, Basil, Gregory of Nazianzen, Apollinaris of Laodicea, who applied the classical culture to the refutation of heathenism and the defence of Christianity. To evade his interdict, the two Apollinaris produced with all haste Christian imitations of Homer, Pindar, Euripides, and Menander, which were considered by Sozomen equal to the originals, but soon passed into oblivion. Gregory also wrote the tragedy of "The Suffering Christ," and several hymns, which still exist. Thus these fathers bore witness to the indispensableness of classical literature for a higher Christian education, and the church has ever since maintained the same view.78 Julian further sought to promote his cause by literary assaults upon the Christian religion; himself writing, shortly before his death, and in the midst of his preparations for the Persian campaign, a bitter work against it, of which we shall speak more fully in a subsequent section.79 3. To the same hostile design against Christianity is to be referred the favor of Julian to its old hereditary enemy, Judaism. The emperor, in an official document affected reverence for that ancient popular religion, and sympathy with its adherents, praised their firmness under misfortune, and condemned their oppressors. He exempted the Jews from burdensome taxation, and encouraged them even to return to the holy land and to rebuild the temple on Moriah in its original splendor.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  I was driving along when a car, having failed to heed the stop sign, suddenly entered the road from an intersecting side street. The other driver didn’t see me in time and crashed into the left side of my car. I also didn’t see him until the last minute and couldn’t respond to avoid the accident. I sat in the car for a moment, stunned. Realizing that I was OK, I got out of the car to assess the damage. Although the car was pretty badly crunched, I was not overly upset about it, because the guy had insurance and the police report would show that he was at fault. I also noticed myself thinking that I wanted to get the car repainted anyway. I felt pretty good, almost euphoric. I was pleased at how easily I moved from the accident into a difficult business meeting later that day. I was prepared for the meeting and handled it quite well. The next day I began to feel agitated. There was a stiffness in my neck, right shoulder, and arm that surprised me, since I had been hit on the left side. Looking back at what happened earlier the day of the accident (periphery of the event), and working through the event with his friend Tom, Joe (we will call the man who had the accident Joe) remembered get- ting into his car to go to work and being mad at his wife. As he recalls this, he becomes aware that his jaw is clenched and trembling. His body begins to shake and feels like it is going out of control. His friend Tom reassures him it’s going to be OK. Once Joe stops shaking and feels some relief, they go on to explore more of the details prior to the accident. Joe remembers backing out of the driveway and turning his head to the right to see where he is going. He feels his arms turning the wheel, and at the same time he notices that as a result of being angry, he is accelerating too hard. His right leg tenses as he moves his foot to the brake to slow down (he senses this action in the muscles of his legs). Encouraged by his friend Tom, Joe takes time to feel the tensing and relaxing that is happening in his right leg. As he moves from gas to brake and back again, he feels some trembling in his legs.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  But Stephen had seen that fleeting expression, and she stood very still when her mother had left her, her own face growing heavy and sombre with anger, with a sense of some uncomprehended injustice. She wrenched off the dress and hurled it from her, longing intensely to rend it, to hurt it, longing to hurt herself in the process, yet filled all the while with that sense of injustice. But this mood changed abruptly to one of self pity; she wanted to sit down and weep over Stephen; on a sudden impulse she wanted to pray over Stephen as though she were some one apart, yet terribly personal too in her trouble. Going over to the dress she smoothed it out slowly; it seemed to have acquired an enormous importance; it seemed to have acquired the importance of prayer, the poor, crumpled thing lying crushed and dejected. Yet Stephen, these days, was not given to prayer, God had grown so unreal, so hard to believe in since she had studied Comparative Religion; engrossed in her studies she had somehow mislaid Him. But now, here she was, very wishful to pray, while not knowing how to explain her dilemma: ‘I’m terribly unhappy, dear, improbable God—’ would not be a very propitious beginning. And yet at this moment she was wanting a God and a tangible one, very kind and paternal; a God with a white flowing beard and wide forehead, a benevolent parent Who would lean out of Heaven and turn His face sideways the better to listen from His cloud, upheld by cherubs and angels. What she wanted was a wise old family God, surrounded by endless heavenly relations. In spite of her troubles she began to laugh weakly, and the laughter was good for it killed self pity; nor can it have offended that Venerable Person whose image persists in the hearts of small children. She donned the new dress with infinite precaution, pulling out its bows and arranging its ruffles. Her large hands were clumsy but now they were willing, very penitent hands full or deep resignation. They fumbled and paused, then continued to fumble with the endless small fastenings so cunningly hidden. She sighed once or twice but the sighs were quite patient, so perhaps in this wise, after all, Stephen prayed.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  I was driving along when a car, having failed to heed the stop sign, suddenly entered the road from an intersecting side street. The other driver didn’t see me in time and crashed into the left side of my car. I also didn’t see him until the last minute and couldn’t respond to avoid the accident. I sat in the car for a moment, stunned. Realizing that I was OK, I got out of the car to assess the damage. Although the car was pretty badly crunched, I was not overly upset about it, because the guy had insurance and the police report would show that he was at fault. I also noticed myself thinking that I wanted to get the car repainted anyway. I felt pretty good, almost euphoric. I was pleased at how easily I moved from the accident into a difficult business meeting later that day. I was prepared for the meeting and handled it quite well. The next day I began to feel agitated. There was a stiffness in my neck, right shoulder, and arm that surprised me, since I had been hit on the left side. Looking back at what happened earlier the day of the accident (periphery of the event), and working through the event with his friend Tom, Joe (we will call the man who had the accident Joe) remembered get- ting into his car to go to work and being mad at his wife. As he recalls this, he becomes aware that his jaw is clenched and trembling. His body begins to shake and feels like it is going out of control. His friend Tom reassures him it’s going to be OK. Once Joe stops shaking and feels some relief, they go on to explore more of the details prior to the accident. Joe remembers backing out of the driveway and turning his head to the right to see where he is going. He feels his arms turning the wheel, and at the same time he notices that as a result of being angry, he is accelerating too hard. His right leg tenses as he moves his foot to the brake to slow down (he senses this action in the muscles of his legs). Encouraged by his friend Tom, Joe takes time to feel the tensing and relaxing that is happening in his right leg. As he moves from gas to brake and back again, he feels some trembling in his legs.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  Then Joe remembers driving down the street and feeling that he wanted to go back to talk to his wife. With Tom’s encouragement, he imagines himself turning to go back and gets a pain in his right arm that is intensifying. As they focus on that sensation, the pain begins to subside. They focus on Joe’s desire to turn around. This time Joe is able to complete the turn in his body and mind and imagines returning home to resolve things with his wife. He tells her that he felt hurt at the party the night before, because she seemed to be ignoring him. She tells him that she just wanted to feel that she could mingle and move about without having to be dependent on him. She explains that it wasn’t anything personal and that she feels quite good about their relationship. Joe feels relieved and has a sense that he has come to a deeper understanding and appreciation of his wife. He also wonders whether or not he would have seen the oncoming car if he had resolved the issues with his wife before getting in the car. At this point, Joe feels relieved. He has some guilt for his part in the accident, even though the other person was clearly at fault for running the stop sign. Tom then asks Joe to describe the details of the road just before he had the accident, even though Joe claims he doesn’t remember what happened. As Joe begins to describe what he can recall, he feels both shoulders tighten and go up. He has a sensation of his body pulling away to the right, followed by the image of a flickering shadow. Tom asks his friend to look at the shadow, and as he does Joe begins to see the yellow color of a car (orienting response). As Joe tries to bring more detail to that image he realizes that he saw a front fender, and then the driver’s face through the windshield of the car. Joe can tell from the look on his face that he is oblivious to the fact that he has just run a stop sig n— the man seems to be lost in thought. Tom asks Joe what he is feeling and he says that he is really angry at the guy and wants to destroy him. Tom encourages Joe to imagine that he is destroying the other car. Joe sees himself getting a big hammer and smashing the other car to smithereens. He is now experiencing increased activation (more than he has before). His hands are trembling and shaking and have turned cold. Tom uses soothing words to support Joe through the process of releasing the energy. After some time, Joe begins to feel his breathing regulate, the tension in his shoulders and jaw relaxes, and the trembling settles. He has a sense of relief and warmth in his hands now. He feels relaxed and alert at the same time.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  Your thoughts return to the idiot. He has ruined your day. You wonder if he is going through the same thing you are. You doubt that he is, because he’s such an idiot. He probably just went on his merry way, oblivious to the whole incident. You hate that possibility, but begin to think that it’s true. Then you get a flas h- you remember the ca r- it was a yellow Cougar. Your anger swells at the vision of it. You hate the car and its driver. You are going to teach them both a lesson. You drive down the street in search of the yellow cougar. You spot it in a parking lot. Your heart races and your excitement mounts as you turn into the lot. Revenge will be your s, justice will be served. You park a few cars away, open your trunk, and grab the tire iron. In a rush of energy, you head directly for the Cougar and begin smashing the windshield with the tire iron. You smash and smash, again and again, trying to discharge the intense energy. Suddenly, you stop and look around. People are staring at you in disbelief. Some of them are afraid of you, others think you are nuts, others are giving you hostile glares. For a split second, you consider attacking the hostile ones. They are probably friends of the Cougar owner. Then, reality sinks in. You realize what you have done, and are overcome with shame. The shame is immediately replaced by panic. You have broken the law, and the police are probably on their way. It is time to escape. You run to your car, get in, and drive off, leaving a cloud of burnt rubber. By the time you arrive home, the shame has overtaken you. Your family is glad to see you, but you cannot tell them what happened. They ask you what is wrong, but you dismiss them. The temporary relief at smashing the windshield is long gone. It has been replaced, once again, by the panic. You can’t stay at home. You get into the car and drive, trying to calm yourself. Nothing seems to work. You tell yourself that the idiot deserved what he got, but you enjoy little relief from the thought. You decide you need help to relax, and head for the nearest bar. Obviously, this response has very little survival value. The person in the above scenario could not review the event intelligently in a highly aroused state. Instead of becoming empowered, this condition led him to re-enact or “act out” his biological confusion rather than discharge the survival energy and return to normal functioning. It is important to refrain from judgment of this particular type of response. We must see it for what it truly i s- an unsuccessful attempt to discharge the intense energy mobilized to defend against a perceived life-threatening experience. Psychiatrist James Gilligan, in his book Violenc

• From The World of Biblical Israel (2013)

  90 Lecture 12: Lives of the Rich, Lives of the poor • In two 8 th -century prophets operating in Judah, Isaiah of Jerusalem and Micah, we find critiques of prophets operating in the south that register the same class distinctions found in the north. o The same issues of oppression and the seizing of family estates that we saw in Amos appear in Micah 2:1–2. The passage almost seems to be written with Ahab in mind: “Alas for those who devise wickedness and evil deeds on their beds! ... They covet fields, and seize them; houses, and take them away; they oppress householder and house, a man and his inheritance.” o Isaiah seems to have a similar type of land greediness in mind when he announces: “Ah, you who join house to house, who add field to field, until there is room for no one but you” (Isa. 5:8). • The poor are likewise those who find themselves wrongfully in debt to the rich. Micah has God address those who “rise against my people as an enemy ... stripping the robes from the peaceful” (Mic. 2:8). • Finally, Micah sees the corruption and greediness of those in power as the cause of Jerusalem’s future destruction. Dever, The Lives of Ordinary People in Ancient Israel, pp. 206–248. Kessler, The Social History of Ancient Israel, pp. 103–117. 1. What was life like for a poor person in Israel during the monarchy? 2. How can a funny and exaggerated story, such as that of King Ahab and his wife, Jezebel, preserve genuine aspects of history? 3. According to the writings of Amos, Isaiah, and Micah, how did the rich live during the time of the monarchy? Suggested Reading Questions to Consider

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  The end came abruptly as is often the way, and it came when the child was alone in the garden, still miserably puzzling over Collins, who had been avoiding her for days. Stephen had wandered to an old potting-shed, and there, whom should she see but Collins and the footman; they appeared to be talking very earnestly together, so earnestly that they failed to hear her. Then a really catastrophic thing happened, for Henry caught Collins roughly by the wrists, and he dragged her towards him, still handling her roughly, and he kissed her full on the lips. Stephen’s head felt suddenly hot and dizzy, she was filled with a blind, uncomprehending rage; she wanted to cry out, but her voice failed completely, so that all she could do was to splutter. But the very next moment she had seized a broken flower-pot and had hurled it hard and straight at the footman. It struck him in the face, cutting open his cheek, down which the blood trickled slowly. He stood as though stunned, gently mopping the cut, while Collins stared dumbly at Stephen. Neither of them spoke, they were feeling too guilty—they were also too much astonished. Then Stephen turned and fled from them wildly. Away and away, anyhow, anywhere, so long as she need not see them! She sobbed as she ran and covered her eyes, tearing her clothes on the shrubs in passing, tearing her stockings and the skin of her legs as she lunged against intercepting branches. But suddenly the child was caught in strong arms, and her face was pressing against her father, and Sir Philip was carrying her back to the house, and along the wide passage to his study. He held her on his knee, forbearing to question, and at first she crouched there like a little dumb creature that had somehow got itself wounded. But her heart was too young to contain this new trouble—too heavy it felt, too much over-burdened, so the trouble came bubbling up from her heart and was told on Sir Philip’s shoulder.

• From The World of Biblical Israel (2013)

  112 Lecture 15: Religious Debates and preserved Text • The second mention of the Queen of Heaven is near the end of the book of Jeremiah, in chapter 44. o When Jerusalem fell to the Babylonians, Jeremiah was one of the leading prophetic voices that explained this conquest as the result of the people’s sinfulness. In his view, the Judeans had broken the covenant with the Israelite god and worshipped other gods; as a result, their own god vacated his city and allowed the Babylonians to conquer it. This theological explanation of the conquest proved powerful and enduring. o Jeremiah 44 begins with a divine oracle of judgment upon the Judeans who have been exiled to Egypt. Here, the Israelite god claims responsibility for the conquest of Jerusalem. He brought the Babylonians to punish the Judeans for their wickedness. o The Israelite god then says that he sent prophets to the people to try to convince them to stop burning incense to idols and worshipping gods that their ancestors would not recognize. But the people, according to Jeremiah, did not listen to him or to any previous prophet; thus, the Israelite god “poured forth his wrath” in “the cities of Judah and the streets of Jerusalem.” o When Jeremiah gets specific about what he means by the “wickedness” the people had committed, he first makes it clear that his judgment includes common men and women. He then indicates that the wickedness consists of burning incense to idols, and because of this practice, all the Judeans in Egypt will become “an execration, a horror, a curse, and a taunt.” o Interestingly, Jeremiah’s account preserves the people’s response to his words. They reject his view of how and why the conquests of Jerusalem and Judah occurred and vow to continue worshipping the Queen of Heaven. They assert that this worship is an authentic Judean religious practice that has brought prosperity in the past. In fact, they blame the fall of Judah on such people as Jeremiah, who insisted on discontinuing worship of the Queen of Heaven.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  But since you display so much more concern now for your good name than you ever showed in the past, and find it so unpleasant to stay up there in a state of nudity, why do you not direct these pleas of yours to the man in whose arms, as you well remember, you were pleased to spend that night, no less naked than you are now, listening to me as I tramped with chattering teeth through the snow in your yard? Why not ask him to assist you, why not ask him to bring you your clothes, why not ask him to set up the ladder for you to descend? Why not turn to him to protect this good name of yours, since it is for his sake that you have placed it in jeopardy, not only now but a thousand times before? ‘Why do you not call to him to come and help you? What could be more appropriate, since you belong to him? If he refuses to help and protect you, whom will he ever help and protect? Go on, you silly woman, call to him, and see whether your love for him and your intelligence, combined with his own, can save you from my stupidity. After all, did you not ask him, when you were cavorting together, whether he considered my stupidity or your love for him to be the greater? As for the generous offer you made just now to grant me your favours, I no longer desire them, and you couldn’t very well deny them to me if I did. Save your nights for your lover, if you should happen to escape from here alive; you and he are welcome to them. One night was quite enough for me, and I have no intention of being fooled a second time. ‘What is more, by cunningly mincing your words, you attempt through flattery to soften my heart towards you, calling me a gentleman, and quietly trying to dissuade me from punishing you for your wickedness, by appealing to my better nature. But the eyes of my mind will not be clouded now by your blandishments, as once they were by your perfidious promises. I know myself better now than I did earlier, for you taught me more about my own character in a single night than I ever learned during the whole of my stay in Paris. ‘But even supposing I were a charitable man, you are not the sort of woman who deserves to be treated with charity. For a savage beast of your sort, death is the only fit punishment, the only just revenge, though admittedly, had I been dealing with a human being, I should already have done enough. So whilst I am not an eagle, yet, knowing that you are not a dove, but a poisonous snake, I intend to harry you with all the hatred and all the strength of a man who is fighting his oldest enemy.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  ‘Sophronia then is mine, not only by the consent of the gods and the authority of human law, but through the good sense of my friend Gisippus and the skilful manner of my wooing her. But it seems that you disapprove of this, possibly because you think yourselves wiser than the gods and your fellow beings, for you obstinately persist in doing two things that are highly repugnant to me. In the first place you hold on to Sophronia when you have no right to do such a thing without my consent; and secondly you treat Gisippus, to whom you are deeply indebted, as your enemy. It is not my intention to prove to you still further how foolishly you are behaving, being content for the present to offer you some friendly advice: to wit, that you should forget about your grievances, set all your anger aside, and see that Sophronia is restored to me, so that I may depart from Athens in peace, as your kinsman, and live henceforth as one of yourselves. For of this you may be certain, that whether or not you like what has been done, if you fail to heed my advice I shall take Gisippus with me, and once I return to Rome, I shall make quite sure that she who is rightfully mine is restored to me, however much you may object. And you shall learn from experience what havoc can be wrought by the wrath of a Roman, once you have made him your lifelong enemy.’ Having said what he had to say, Titus, his features contorted with anger, rose to his feet; and taking Gisippus by the hand, he led him out of the temple, tossing his head from side to side and looking daggers at all the people present, as if to show how little he was daunted by their numbers. The people he had left behind in the temple, in part persuaded by the force of his arguments, in part alarmed by his concluding words, decided of one accord that since Gisippus had turned them down, it was better to have Titus as their kinsman than to have lost a kinsman in Gisippus and gained an enemy in Titus. So they went and sought out Titus, and told him they were willing that Sophronia should be his, adding that they would be glad to have him as a dear kinsman and Gisippus as a good friend. And after celebrating their friendship and kinship in a style suited to the occasion, they went their separate ways. Sophronia was then restored to Titus, and being a sensible girl, she made a virtue of necessity and soon accorded Titus the love she had formerly had for Gisippus. And she went with him to Rome, where she was received with great honour.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  ‘Father, I would not wish you to judge me ill because I am in the house of these money-lenders. I have nothing to do with their business; indeed I had come here with the express intention of warning and reproaching them, and dissuading them from this abominable form of money-making; and I think I would have succeeded, if God had not stricken me in this manner. However, I would have you know that my father left me a wealthy man, and when he was dead, I gave the greater part of his fortune to charity. Since then, in order to support myself and enable me to assist the Christian poor, I have done a small amount of trading, in the course of which I have desired to gain, and I have always shared what I have gained with the poor, allocating one half to my own needs and giving the other half to them. And in this I have had so much help from my Creator that I have continually gone from strength to strength in the management of my affairs.’ ‘You have done well,’ said the friar, ‘but tell me, how often have you lost your temper?’ ‘Oh!’ said Ser Ciappelletto, ‘I can assure you I have done that very often. But who is there who could restrain himself, when the whole day long he sees men doing disgusting things, and failing to observe God’s commandments, or to fear His terrible wrath? There have been many times in the space of a single day when I would rather have been dead than alive, looking about me and seeing young people frittering away their time, telling lies, going drinking in taverns, failing to go to church, and following the ways of the world rather than those of God.’ ‘My son,’ said the friar, ‘this kind of anger is justified, and for my part I could not require you to do penance for it. But has it ever happened that your anger has led you to commit murder or to pour abuse on anyone or do them any other form of injury?’ To which Ser Ciappelletto replied: ‘Oh, sir, however could you, that appear to be a man of God, say such a thing? If I had thought for a single moment of doing any of the things you mention, do you suppose I imagine that God would have treated me so generously? Those things are the business of cut-throats and evildoers, and whenever I have chanced upon one of their number, I have always sent him packing, and offered up a prayer for his conversion!’ ‘May God give you His blessing,’ said the friar, ‘but now, tell me, my son: have you ever borne false witness against any man, or spoken ill of people, or taken what belonged to others without seeking their permission?’

• From The Decameron (1353)

  ‘Sophronia then is mine, not only by the consent of the gods and the authority of human law, but through the good sense of my friend Gisippus and the skilful manner of my wooing her. But it seems that you disapprove of this, possibly because you think yourselves wiser than the gods and your fellow beings, for you obstinately persist in doing two things that are highly repugnant to me. In the first place you hold on to Sophronia when you have no right to do such a thing without my consent; and secondly you treat Gisippus, to whom you are deeply indebted, as your enemy. It is not my intention to prove to you still further how foolishly you are behaving, being content for the present to offer you some friendly advice: to wit, that you should forget about your grievances, set all your anger aside, and see that Sophronia is restored to me, so that I may depart from Athens in peace, as your kinsman, and live henceforth as one of yourselves. For of this you may be certain, that whether or not you like what has been done, if you fail to heed my advice I shall take Gisippus with me, and once I return to Rome, I shall make quite sure that she who is rightfully mine is restored to me, however much you may object. And you shall learn from experience what havoc can be wrought by the wrath of a Roman, once you have made him your lifelong enemy.’ Having said what he had to say, Titus, his features contorted with anger, rose to his feet; and taking Gisippus by the hand, he led him out of the temple, tossing his head from side to side and looking daggers at all the people present, as if to show how little he was daunted by their numbers. The people he had left behind in the temple, in part persuaded by the force of his arguments, in part alarmed by his concluding words, decided of one accord that since Gisippus had turned them down, it was better to have Titus as their kinsman than to have lost a kinsman in Gisippus and gained an enemy in Titus. So they went and sought out Titus, and told him they were willing that Sophronia should be his, adding that they would be glad to have him as a dear kinsman and Gisippus as a good friend. And after celebrating their friendship and kinship in a style suited to the occasion, they went their separate ways. Sophronia was then restored to Titus, and being a sensible girl, she made a virtue of necessity and soon accorded Titus the love she had formerly had for Gisippus. And she went with him to Rome, where she was received with great honour.

• From Waking the Tiger: Healing Trauma (1997)

  This is the critical point. I hand Marius a roll of paper towels. If he freezes now, he could be re-traumatized. He grabs the roll and strangles it as the other group members, myself included, look on with utter amazement at his strength as he twists it and almost tears it in two. “Now the other one, look right at i t… look right in its eyes.” This time he lets out screams of rage and triumph. I have him settle with his bodily sensations for a few minutes, integrating this intensity. I then ask him again to look. “What do you see?” “I see the m… they’re all bloody and dead.” (His success with killing and eviscerating the imagined polar bear has prepared him for this.) His head and eyes begin slowly turning to the right. “What do you see?” “I see the pol e… there are bolts in it.” “Okay, feel your legs, feel your pants.” I am about to tell him to run in order to complete the running-escape response. But before I do he exclaims, “I am runnin g… I can feel my legs, they’re strong like springs.” Rhythmic undulations are now visible through his pants as his entire body trembles and vibrates. “I’m climbin g… climbin g… I see them belo w… they’re dead and I’m safe.” He starts to sob softly and we wait a few minutes. “What do you experience now?” “It feels like I’m being carried by big arms; the man has me in his arms, his hands are around mine. He’s carrying me in his arms. I feel safe.” Marius reports a series of images of fences and houses in the village. (He sobs softly.) “He’s knocking at the door of my family’s house. The door open s… my fathe r… he’s very upset, he runs to get a towe l… my leg is bleeding badl y… my pants are tor n… he’s very upse t… he’s not mad at me, he’s very worried. It hurts, the soap hurts.” Marius sobs now in full, gentle waves. “It hurts. But I’m crying ‘cause he’s not angry at m e… I can see he was upset and scared. I feel vibration and tingling all over, it’s even and warm. He loves me.” As Marius continues to tremble softly, his body breaks out in moist, warm beads of sweat, and I ask him, “How does it feel in your body now that your father loves you?” There is a silence. “I feel warm, very warm and peaceful. I don’t need to cry now, I’m okay and he was just scared. It’s not that he doesn’t love me.” Renegotiation Initially the only image or memory of the event Marius had was the bloody pants, torn flesh, and his father’s rejection. Yet here also was the positive seed of an emerging healing nucleus, his fur pants. The pants became the thread that held together the successful “renegotiaton” of the traumatic event.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  Then suddenly Stephen could not resist the blessèd relief of confiding in Puddle once more, of taking this great new trouble to the faithful and wise little grey-haired woman whose hand had been stretched out to save in the past. Perhaps yet again that hand might find the strength that was needful to save her. Not looking at Puddle, she began to talk quickly: ‘There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you, Puddle—it’s about my work, there’s something wrong with it. I mean that my work could be much more vital; I feel it, I know it, I’m holding it back in some way, there’s something I’m always missing. Even in The Furrow I feel I missed something—I know it was fine, but it wasn’t complete because I’m not complete and I never shall be—can’t you understand? I’m not complete. . . .’ She paused unable to find the words she wanted, then blundered on again blindly: ‘There’s a great chunk of life that I’ve never known, and I want to know it, I ought to know it if I’m to become a really fine writer. There’s the greatest thing perhaps in the world, and I’ve missed it—that’s what’s so awful, Puddle, to know that it exists everywhere, all round me, to be constantly near it yet always held back—to feel that the poorest people in the streets, the most ignorant people, know more than I do. And I dare to take up my pen and write, knowing less than these poor men and women in the street! Why haven’t I got a right to it, Puddle? Can’t you understand that I’m strong and young, so that sometimes this thing that I’m missing torments me, so that I can’t concentrate on my work any more? Puddle, help me—you were young yourself once.’ ‘Yes, Stephen—a long time ago I was young. . . .’ ‘But can’t you remember back for my sake?’ And now her voice sounded almost angry in her distress: ‘It’s unfair, it’s unjust. Why should I live in this great isolation of spirit and body—why should I, why? Why have I been afflicted with a body that must never be indulged, that must always be repressed until it grows stronger much than my spirit because of this unnatural repression? What have I done to be so cursed? And now it’s attacking my holy of holies, my work—I shall never be a great writer because of my maimed and insufferable body—’ She fell silent, suddenly shy and ashamed, too much ashamed to go on speaking.

• From Crazy Brave (2012)

  “Come on over here and sit next to me, next to an Indian who is still the real thing.” These local Indians could be shortsighted when it came to the rest of the Indian world. To Indians not from here, he could be Mexican. “Why would I want to?” I said. His eyebrows flew up. “We’re full-bloods. We haven’t lost our ways.” “And what does that mean? You don’t even know me or my people.” Then I asked him, “Why do you have a Spanish last name?” Of course I knew the history, but he had pissed me off. Still, I couldn’t help but notice his eyelashes, so long they cast shadows on his cheeks. I stood close enough for his smell to alert my heart. Then my ride was leaving, and I made my escape. “Hey, girl,” I heard him shout as I shut the door, “I’m going to get you yet.” [image "6706.jpg" file=Image00008.jpg] [image "6709.jpg" file=Image00009.jpg] [image "6711.jpg" file=Image00010.jpg] The next morning he called me up and recited poetry. His poetry opened one of the doors in my heart that had been closed since childhood. I agreed to see him, and we began going out. Together we nurtured a common language. I began to understand that poetry did not have to be from England or of an English that was always lonesome for its homeland in Europe. In his poems were his pueblo and his people, our love and the love for justice. The English language was pleased to occupy new forms. Soon we were a couple living together in an apartment I’d inherited from another Indian student, who was graduating. There was a water line along the apartment walls from spring floods. I made a note to move come next spring. One night we were out after the bars had closed. I waited on the Central Avenue sidewalk while he disappeared behind the Starlight Motel to take a piss. The vacancy sign flashed on and off. Closing-hour traffic jammed the street. Everyone was heading to the forty-nine, our after-closing-time gatherings in the hills outside the city, to sing our songs of home and love. Cars and pickups passed us with our friends, cases of beer squeezed under their legs. I looked up at the stars in the clearing sky. Each direction was a world, and each world had its own set of rules, its own hierarchy of gods and demigods, each with its own particular color. I was working on a painting series of tribal leaders, one from each of the four directions, but I was stalled by tension. When I was five, my mother began standing me on a chair to wash dishes after dinner, because otherwise I couldn’t reach the sink. The front of my dress was often soaked when I finished. “Don’t get your dress wet like that,” she’d warn me.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Tertullian held all mortal sins (of which he numbers seven), committed after baptism, to be unpardonable,772 at least in this world, and a church, which showed such lenity towards gross offenders, as the Roman church at that time did, according to the corroborating testimony of Hippolytus, he called worse than a den of thieves," even a "spelunca maechorum et fornicatorum."773 The Catholic church, indeed, as we have already seen, opened the door likewise to excessive ascetic rigor, but only as an exception to her rule; while the Montanists pressed their rigoristic demands as binding upon all. Such universal asceticism was simply impracticable in a world like the present, and the sect itself necessarily dwindled away. But the religious earnestness which animated it, its prophecies and visions, its millennarianism, and the fanatical extremes into which it ran, have since reappeared, under various names and forms, and in new combinations, in Novatianism, Donatism, the spiritualism of the Franciscans, Anabaptism, the Camisard enthusiasm, Puritanism, Quakerism, Quietism, Pietism, Second Adventism, Irvingism, and so on, by way of protest and wholesome reaction against various evils in the church.774

• From Trash (1988)

  Barr—crisp dollar bills she was sure would be worth money someday, though I had no idea why she thought so. “Girls.” Jack stood in the doorway. He looked uncomfortable with the three of us sitting together. “She’s looking better,” he said diffidently. Arlene nodded. Jo let blue smoke trail slowly out of her nose. I said nothing. I could feel my cheeks go stiff. I looked at the way Jack’s hairline was receding, the gray bush of his military haircut thinning out and slowly exposing the bony structure of his head. “Well.” Jack’s left hand gripped the doorframe. He let go and flexed his fingers in the air. When the hand came down again, it gripped so hard the fingertips went white. My eyes were drawn there, unable to look away from the knuckles standing out knobby and hard. Beside me Jo tore her empty potato chip bag in half, spilling crumbs on the linoleum tabletop. Arlene shifted in her chair. I heard the elevator gears grind out in the hall. “I was gonna go home,” Jack said. He let go of the doorjamb. “Good night, Daddy,” Arlene called after him. He waved a hand and walked away. Jo twisted around in her chair. “You are such a suck-ass,” she said. Arlene’s cheeks flushed. “You don’t have to be mean.” “I can’t even say his name. You call him Daddy.” Jo shook her head. “Daddy.” “He’s the only father I’ve ever known.” Arlene’s face was becoming a brighter and brighter pink. She fumbled with her cigarette case, then shoved it into her bag. “And I don’t see any reason to make this thing any worse.” “Worse?” Jo twisted further in her chair. She leaned over and put her hand on Arlene’s forearm. “Tell me the truth,” she said. “Didn’t you ever just want to kill the son of a bitch?” Arlene jerked her arm free, but Jo caught the belt of her dress. “He an’t got shit. He an’t gonna give you no money, and he can’t hurt you no more. You don’t have to suck up to him. You could tell him to go to hell.” Arlene slapped Jo’s hand away and grabbed her bag. “Don’t you tell me what to do.” She looked over at me as if daring me to say something. “Don’t you tell me nothing.” Jo dropped back in her seat and lifted her hands in mock surrender. “Me, you can say no to. Him, you run after like some little brokenhearted puppy.” “Don’t, don’t . . .” For a moment it was as if Arlene were going to say something. The look on her face reminded me of the night she had screamed and kicked. Do it, I wanted to say. Do it. But whatever Arlene wanted to say, she swallowed. “Just don’t!” She was out the door in a rush. I took a drink of cold coffee and watched Jo.