Contempt

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.

Page 136 of 253 · 20 per page

• From White Oleander (1999)

  I felt helpless to prevent her life from taking its likely direction. Could a person save another person? She turned to wave at me. I waved back. I didn’t drive off until she was inside. Dear Astrid, It’s been six years today. Six years since I walked through the gates of this peculiar finishing school. Like Dante: Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita. / Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura. / Che la diritta via era smarrita. The third day over 110. Yesterday an inmate slit another woman’s throat with a bent can. Lydia tore up a poem I wrote about a man I saw once, a snake tattoo disappearing into his jeans. I made her tape it together again, but you can’t imagine the strain. Aside from you, I think this is the longest relationship I’ve ever had. She’s sure I love her, though it’s nothing of the kind. She adores those poems of mine that refer to her, thinks it’s a public declaration. Love. I would ban the word from the vocabulary. Such imprecision. Love, which love, what love? Sentiment, fantasy, longing, lust? Obsession, devouring need? Perhaps the only love that is accurate without qualification is the love of a very young child. Afterward, she too becomes a person, and thus compromised. “Do you love me?” you asked in the dark of your narrow bed. “Do you love me Mommy?” “Of course,” I told you. “Now go to sleep.” Love is a bedtime story, a teddy bear, familiar, one eye missing. “Do you love me, carita?” Lydia says, twisting my arm, forcing my face into the rough horsehair blanket, biting my neck. “Say it, you bitch.” Love is a toy, a token, a scented handkerchief. “Tell me you love me,” Barry said. “I love you,” I said. “I love you, I love you.” Love is a check, that can be forged, that can be cashed. Love is a payment that comes due. Lydia lies on her side on my bunk, the curve of her hip the crest of a wave in shallow water, turquoise, Playa del Carmen, Martinique. Leafing through a new Celebridades. I bought her a subscription. She says it makes her feel part of the world. I can’t see getting excited about movies I won’t see, political issues of the day fail to move me, they have nothing to say within the deep prison stillness. Time has taken on an utterly different quality for me. What difference does a year make? In a perverse way, I pity the women who are still a part of time, trapped by it, how many months, how many days. I have been cut free, I move among centuries. Writers send me books—Joseph Brodsky, Marianne Moore, Pound. I think maybe I will study Chinese. “You ever go to Guanajuato?” Lydia asks. “All the big stars going there now.” Guanajuato, Astrid. Do you remember? I know you do. We went with Alejandro the painter, as distinguished from Alejandro the poet.

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

  PSEUDO-CHRYSOSTOM. Every substance breeds in itself that which destroys it, as wood the worm, and garments the moth; so the Devil strives to corrupt the ministry of the Priests, who are ordained for the edification of holiness, endeavouring that this good, while it is done to be seen of men, should be turned into evil. Take away this fault from the clergy, and you will have no further labour in their reform, for of this it comes that a clergyman who has sinned can hardly perform penance. Also the Lord here points out the cause why they could not believe in Christ, because nearly all they did was in order to be seen of men; for he whose desire is for earthly glory from men, cannot believe on Christ who preaches things heavenly. I have read one who interprets this place thus. In Moses’ seat, that is, in the rank and degree instituted by Moses, the Scribes and Pharisees are seated unworthily, forasmuch as they preached to others the Law which foretold Christ’s coming, but themselves did not receive Him when come. For this cause He exhorts the people to hear the Law which they preached, that is, to believe in Christ who was preached by the Law, but not to follow the Scribes and Pharisees in their disbelief of Him. And He shews the reason why they preached the coming of Christ out of the Law, yet did not believe on Him; namely, because they did not preach that Christ should come through any desire of His coming, but that they might be seen by men to be doctors of the Law. ORIGEN. And their works likewise they do to be seen of men, using outward circumcision, taking away actual leaven out of their houses, and doing such like things. But Christ’s disciples fulfil the Law in things secret, being Jews inwardly, as the Apostle speaks. (Rom. 2:29.) CHRYSOSTOM. Note the intensive force of the words of His reproofs. He says not merely that they do their works to be seen of men, but added, all their works. And not only in great things but in some things trivial they were vainglorious, They make broad their phylacteries and enlarge the borders of their garments.

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

  65. And many other things blasphemously spake they against him. 66. And as soon as it was day, the elders of the people and the chief priests and the scribes came together, and led him into their council, saying, 67. Art thou the Christ? tell us. And he said unto them, If I tell you, ye will not believe: 68. And if I also ask you, ye will not answer me, nor let me go. 69. Hereafter shall the Son of man sit on the right hand of the power of God. 70. Then said they all, Art thou then the Son of God? And he said unto them, Ye say that I am. 71. And they said, What need we any further witness? for we ourselves have heard of his own mouth. AUGUSTINE. (de Con. Ev. lib. iii. c. 7.) The temptation of Peter which took place between the mockings of our Lord is not related by all the Evangelists in the same order. For Matthew and Mark first mention those, then Peter’s temptation; but Luke has first described the temptations of Peter, then the mockings of our Lord, saying, And the men that held Jesus mocked him, &c. CHRYSOSTOM. Jesus, the Lord of heaven and earth, sustains and suffers the mockings of the ungodly, giving us an example of patience. THEOPHYLACT. Likewise the Lord of prophets is derided as a false prophet. It follows, And they blindfolded him. This they did as a dishonour to Him who wished to be accounted by the people as a prophet. But He who was struck with the blows of the Jews, is struck also now by the blasphemies of false Christians. And they blindfolded Him, not that He should not see their wickedness, but that they might hide His face from them. But heretics, and Jews, and wicked Catholics, provoke Him with their vile actions, as it were mocking Him, saying, Who smote thee? while they flatter themselves that their evil thoughts and works of darkness are not known by Him. AUGUSTINE. (de Con. Ev. ut sup.) Now our Lord is supposed to have suffered these things until morning in the house of the High Priest, to which He was first led. Hence it follows, And as soon as it was day, the elders of the people and the chief priests and the scribes came together, and led him into their council, saying, Art thou the Christ? &c. BEDE. They wished not for truth, but were contriving calumny. Because they expected that Christ would come only as man, of the root of David, they sought this of Him, that if He should say, “I am the Christ,” they might falsely accuse Him of claiming to Himself the kingly power. THEOPHYLACT. He knew the secrets of their hearts, that they who had not believed His works would much less believe His words. Hence it follows, And he said unto them, If I tell you, ye will not believe, &c.

• From In an Unspoken Voice (2010)

  Freeman Jr.) invented a procedure called a prefrontal lobotomy. Bizarrely, this treatment, according to the senior Freeman, “was simple enough to be conducted in the offices of any general physician.” Basically, in his own words, his method consisted of “knocking them out with an electric shock” and then (in a “medical procedure” reminiscent of Phineas Gage’s accidental lobotomy by tamping iron) “thrusting an ice pick into the crease of the eyelid and into the frontal lobe of the brain and making the lateral cut by swinging the thing from side to side … an easy procedure, though definitely a disagreeable thing to watch.” (Note Freeman’s curious and callous use of “them” and “thing,” as well as his choice of “surgical instrument”—an ice pick !) It may seem contradictory that this procedure can produce, as in the case of Phineas Gage, “an individual both animal and childlike”; while Ferrier’s monkeys lacked curiosity and exploration; and, with Damasio’s patient Elliot, the capacity to make valuations and to choose appropriate options was permanently destroyed. Unfortunately, the trend that followed created a Frankensteinian group of tens of thousands of lobotomized patients (and hundreds of thousands more who were zoned out on doctor-prescribed Thorazine and Hadol). Without the animal in the human and without the human in the animal, there is little we can recognize as being a vitally engaged and alive person. It is interesting that many people struggling with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), as well as many violent offenders, appear to exhibit hypo-arousal of their instinctual brains, together with a shutdown in their prefrontal cortex. In this regard the maladaptive behaviors associated with both may be attempts to stimulate themselves in order to feel more human. Unfortunately, the cost of these impulse disorders may be disastrous to both the individual and society. On the other hand, people who are chronically flooded by emotional eruptions can be just as limited in life. While they are less inhuman (like the Gage-Elliot zombie “body-snatchers”), their explosions can be just as corrosive to the maintenance of intimate and professional relationships, and—it goes without saying—to a coherent sense of self. Traumatized individuals are imprisoned with the proverbial worst of both worlds. At one moment, they are flooded with intrusive emotions like terror, rage and shame, while alternately being shut down, alienating them from feeling-based instinctual grounding, rendering them incapable of a sense of purpose and inept in finding a direction. These may be our clients, relatives, friends or acquaintances who are caught in either extreme, endlessly swinging between emotional convulsion and coma (blandness/shutdown). As such, they are unable to make use of their emotional intelligence. To some degree they represent, when we are under the influence of chronic stress or trauma, the Phineas Gages in all of us .

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

  RABANUS. It should be noted, that He does not forbid those to whom this belongs by right of rank to be saluted in the forum, or to sit or recline in the highest room; but those who unduly desire these things, whether they obtain them or not, these He enjoins the believers to shun as wicked. PSEUDO-CHRYSOSTOM. For He rebukes not those who recline in the highest place, but those who love such places, blaming the will not the deed. For to no purpose does he humble himself in place who exalts himself in heart. For some vain men hearing that it was a commendable thing to seat himself in the lowest place, chooses so to do; and thus not only does not put away the vanity of his heart, but adds this additional vain ostentation of his humility, as one who would be thought righteous and humble. For many proud men take the lowest place in their bodies, but in haughtiness of heart think themselves to be seated among the highest; and there are many humble men who, placed among the highest, are inwardly in their own esteem among the lowest. CHRYSOSTOM. Observe where vain glory governed them, to wit, in the synagogues, whither they entered to guide others. It had been tolerable to have felt thus at feasts, notwithstanding that a doctor ought to be had in honour in all places alike, and not in the Churches only. But if it be blameworthy to love such things, how wrong is it to seek to attain them? PSEUDO-CHRYSOSTOM. They love the first salutations, first, that is, not in time only, before others; but in tone, that we should say with a loud voice, Hail, Rabbi; and in body that we should bow low our head; and in place, that the salutation should be in public. RABANUS. And herein they are not without fault, that the same men should be concerned in the litigations of the forum, who in the synagogue in Moses’ seat, seek to be called Rabbi by men. PSEUDO-CHRYSOSTOM. That is, they wish to be called, not to be such; they desire the name, and neglect the duties.

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

  PSEUDO-CHRYSOSTOM. The temple pertains to God’s glory, and to man’s spiritual salvation, but the gold of the temple though it pertains to the glory of God, yet does it more so to the delight of man, and the profit of the Priests. The Jews then pronounced the gold which delighted them, and the gifts which fed them, to be more holy than the temple, that they might make men more disposed to offer gifts, than to pour out prayers in the temple. Whence the Lord suitably reproves them in these words. Yet have some Christians at present an equally foolish notion. See, they say, in any suit if one swear by God, it seems nought; but if one swear by the Gospel, he seems to have done some great thing. To whom we shall say in like manner, Ye fools and blind! the Scriptures were written because of God, God is not because of the Scriptures. Greater therefore is God, than what is hallowed by Him. JEROME. Again, if one swore by the altar, none held him guilty of perjury; but if he swore by the gift or the victims or the other things which are offered to God upon the altar, this they exacted most rigorously. And all this they did not out of fear of God, but out of covetousness. Thus the Lord charges them with both folly and fraud, inasmuch as the altar is much greater than the victims which are sanctified by the altar. GLOSS. (non occ.) And lest their infatuation should go so far, that they should affirm that the gold was more holy than the temple, and the gift than the altar, He argues on another ground, that in the oath which is sworn by the temple and the altar is contained the oath by the gold or by the gift. ORIGEN. In like manner the custom which the Jews had of swearing by the Heaven He reprobates. For they did not, as they supposed, avoid the danger of taking an oath by God, because, Whose sweareth by heaven, sweareth by the throne of God, and by him that sitteth thereon. GLOSS. (ord.) For whoso swears by the creature that is subject, swears by the Divinity that rules over the creation.

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

  BEDE. (in Marc. 2, 23) He means by His country, Nazareth, in which He was brought up. But how great the blindness of the Nazarenes! they despise Him, Who by His words and deeds they might know to be the Christ, solely on account of His kindred. It goes on, And when the sabbath day was come, he began to teach in the synagogue: and many hearing him were astonished, saying, From whence hath this man these things? and what wisdom is this which is given unto him, that even such mighty works are wrought by his hands? By wisdom is meant His doctrine, by powers, the cures and miracles which He did. It goes on, Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary? AUGUSTINE. (de Con. Evan. ii. 42) Matthew indeed says that He was called the son of a carpenter; nor are we to wonder, since both might have been said, for they believed Him to be a carpenter, because He was the son of a carpenter. PSEUDO-JEROME. Jesus is called the son of a workman, of that one, however, whose work was the morning and the sun, that is, the first and second Church, as a figure of which the woman and the damsel are healed. BEDE. (ubi sup.) For although human things are not to be compared with divine, still the type is complete, because the Father of Christ works by fire and spirit. It goes on, The brother of James, and Joses, of Jude, and, of Simon. And are not his sisters here with us? They bear witness that His brothers and sisters were with Him, who nevertheless are not to be taken for the sons of Joseph or of Mary, as heretics say, but rather, as is usual in Scripture, we must understand them to be His relations, as Abraham and Lot are called brothers, though Lot was brother’s son to Abraham. And they were offended at him. The stumbling and the error of the Jews is our salvation, and the condemnation of heretics. For so much did they despise the Lord Jesus Christ, as to call Him a carpenter, and son of a carpenter. It goes on, And Jesus said unto them, A prophet is not without honour, but in his own country. Even Moses bears witness that the Lord is called a Prophet in the Scripture, for predicting His future Incarnation to the sons of Israel, he says, A Prophet shall the Lord raise up unto you of your brethren. (Acts 7:37) But not only He Himself, Who is Lord of prophets, but also Elias, Jeremiah, and the remaining lesser prophets, were worse received in their own country than in strange cities, for it is almost natural for men to envy their fellow-townsmen; for they do not consider the present works of the man, but they remember the weakness of His infancy.

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

  THEOPHYLACT. They did it then mockingly. For when the rulers scoffed, what can we say of the crowd? for it follows, And the people stood, who in truth had entreated that He should be crucified, waiting, namely, for the end. And the rulers also with them derided. AUGUSTINE. (ubi sup.) Having mentioned the rulers, and said nothing of the priests, St. Luke comprehended under a general name all the chief men, so that hereby may be understood both the scribes and the elders. BEDE. And these also unwillingly confess that He saved others, for it follows, Saying, He saved others, let him save himself, &c. ATHANASIUS. (ubi sup.) Now our Lord being truly the Saviour, wished not by saving Himself, but by saving His creatures, to be acknowledged the Saviour. For neither is a physician by healing himself known to be a physician, unless he also gives proof of his skill towards the sick. So the Lord being the Saviour had no need of salvation, nor by descending from the cross did He wish to be acknowledged the Saviour, but by dying. For truly a much greater salvation does the death of the Saviour bring to men, than the descent from the cross. GREEK EXPOSITOR. Now the Devil, seeing that there was no protection for him, was at a loss, and as having no other resource, tried at last to offer Him vinegar to drink. But he knew not that he was doing this against himself; for the bitterness of wrath caused by the transgression of the law, in which he kept all men bound, he now surrendered to the Saviour, who took it and consumed it, in order that in the place of vinegar, He might give us wine to drink, which wisdom had mingled. (Prov. 9:5.) THEOPHYLACT. But the soldiers offered Christ vinegar, as it were ministering unto a king, for it follows, saying, If thou art the king of the Jews, save thyself. BEDE. And it is worthy of remark, that the Jews blaspheme and mock the name of Christ, which was delivered to them by the authority of Scripture; whereas the soldiers, as being ignorant of the Scriptures, insult not Christ the chosen of God, but the King of the Jews. 23:38–4338. And a superscription also was written over him in letters of Greek, and Latin, and Hebrew, THIS IS THE KING OF THE JEWS. 39. And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him, saying, If thou be Christ, save thyself and us. 40. But the other answering rebuked him, saying, Dost not thou fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? 41. And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss. 42. And he said unto Jesus, Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom. 43. And Jesus said unto him, Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.

• From The Pillar of Salt (1953)

  In our alley, the kerosene lamp had been replaced on Friday nights by Argand lamps which went out only when the olive oil in them was used up. Those little dancing lights, whimsically throwing vividly outlined shadows, contributed greatly to the solemn mystery of the Sabbath. We continued using Argand lamps for some time after we moved to the new Passage. Then electricity triumphed and brought a ridiculous innovation into our home; it was at once the target of my wisecracks. Before the first star appeared, my mother, the high priestess of the lights, switched on at five o’clock the electric bulb in the dining-room and then lit the Roman night lamp in the kitchen. The problem of the night lamp had already been solved by her mother and her grandmother, and my mother knew instinctively the level of oil with extraordinary exactness. The little wick crackled angrily and died a few minutes after the meal. But electricity, too new a gift from civilization, puzzled all the people in our building. How was it possible to prevent the bulb from burning all night and yet avoid committing a sin? Ritual forbade the touching of fire throughout the Sabbath, from Friday evening to Saturday evening. Was turning a little switch the same as handling fire? The rabbis vehemently asserted that it was; some progressive souls claimed it wasn’t, but deferred to Rabbinical wisdom. I found the problem void of interest and the discussions absurd. Ostensibly, I shrugged my shoulders and sneered at these controversies which disturbed the tribe; but I had to exhibit my indifference passionately. The more they reflected on the problem, the more I emphasized my scorn and pretended not to understand their sacred difficulties. Finally, their combined wits allowed them to come up with an ingenious solution. There was one shop, a grocery store, in our building, and Boubaker, the grocer’s clerk, a young Negro from the South, slept in the store during the night. It was unanimously agreed to offer Boubaker the job of turning the Sabbath lights off. He accepted, for a small fee and a dish of couscous, to make a round of all the flats toward the end of the solemn feast. So everything was saved, modern comfort and the respect due to religion.

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

  JEROME. For the Lord, when He had given the commandments of the Law through Moses, added at the end, And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be ever before thine eyes; (Deut. 6:8.) the meaning of which is, Let my precepts be in thine hand so as to be fulfilled in thy works; let them be before thine eyes so as that thou shalt meditate upon them day and night. This the Pharisees misinterpreting, wrote on parchments the Decalogue of Moses, that is, the Ten Commandments, and folding them up, tied them on their forehead, so making them a crown for their head, that they should be always before their eyes. Moses had in another place given command that they should make fringes of blue in the borders of their garments, to distinguish the people of Israel (Numb. 15:39.); that as in their bodies circumcision, so in their garments the fringe, might discriminate the Jewish nation. But these superstitious teachers, catching at popular favour, and making gain of silly women, made broad hems, and fastened them with sharp pins, that as they walked or sat they might be pricked, and by such monitors be recalled to the duties of God’s ministry. This embroidery then of the Decalogue they called phylacteries, that is, conservatories, because those who wore them, wore them for their own protection and security. So little did the Pharisees understand that they were to be worn on the heart and not on the body; for in equal degree may cases and chests be said to have books, which assuredly have not the knowledge of God. PSEUDO-CHRYSOSTOM. But after their example do many invent Hebrew names of Angels, and write them, and bind them on themselves, and they seem dreadful to such as are without understanding. Others again wear round their neck a portion of the Gospel written out. But is not the Gospel read every day in the Church, and heard by all? Those therefore who receive no profit from the Gospel sounded in their ears, how shall the having them hung about their neck save them? Further, wherein is the virtue of the Gospel? in the shape of its letters, or in the understanding its meaning? If in the characters, you do well to hang them round your neck; if in their meaning, they are of more profit when laid up in the heart, than hung round the neck. But others explain this place thus, That they made broad their teachings concerning special observances, as phylacteries, or preservatives of salvation, preaching them continually to the people. And the broad fringes of their garments they explain of the same undue stress upon such commandments. JEROME. Seeing they thus make broad their phylacteries, and make them broad fringes, desiring to have glory of men, they are convicted also in other things; For they love the uppermost rooms at feasts, and the chief seats in the synagogues.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  and theology. Let us leave these matters to those who are more competent to discuss them, and ask Nomerfide to whom she gives her voice." " To Hircan," she replied, " but on condition that he will be tender of the honour of the ladies." " The condition fits me very aptly," said Hircan, "for the story I have to tell you is the very one to fulfil it. You shall see from it, nevertheless, that the inclination of men and of women is naturally vicious, unless it be kept right by the goodness of Him to whom we ought to impute all the victories we achieve over ourselves. And to abate the airs you give yourselves when any story is told which does you honour, I will tell you one which is strictly true." NOVEL XXXV. How a sensible husband cured his wife of her passion for a Cordelier. At Pampelune there was a lady who was reputed fair and virtuous, and at the same time the most devout and chaste in the country. She loved her husband much, and was so obsequious to him that he had entire confi- dence in her. She was wholly occupied with God's ser- vice, and never missed a single sermon, and omitted nothing by which she could hope to persuade her hus- band and her children to be as devout as herself, who was but thirty years old, an age at which women com- monly resign the pretensions of beauties for those of new she-sages. On the first day of Lent this lady went to church to receive the ashes which are a memorial of death. A Cordelier, whose austerity of life had gained him the 3i6 THE HEPTAMERON OF THE tAW^/35.

• From Heptaméron (1559)

  miracle ! " so loudly that all the people in church ran, some to the bells, others to the scene of the miracle. She took them to see the image which had stirred, which made many laugh ; but certain priests, not contenting themselves with laughing, resolved to turn the tomb to account, and make as much money of it as of the crucifix on their pulpit, which is said to have spoken ; but the display of an old woman's silliness put an end to the comedy.* If everyone knew what are their follies they would not be deemed holy, nor their miracles true. I pray you then, ladies, take care, henceforth, to what saints you give your candles. "■ How strange it is," said Hircan, " that be it in what manner it may, women must always do wrong ! " " Is it doing wrong to carry candles to the tomb ? " said Nomerfide. " Yes," replied Hircan, " when the lighted end is put to a man's forehead ; for no good deed should be called a good deed when mischief comes of it. The poor woman thought of course she had made a grand present to God in giving Him a paltry candle." " God does not look to the value of the present," said Oisille, " but to the heart that offers it. Perhaps this poor woman loved God more than those who gave great torches ; for, as the gospel says, she gave out of her need." " I do not believe, however," said Saffredent, " that God, who is supreme wisdom, can look with favour on women's folly. Simplicity is acceptable to Him, it is * The end of this novel, and the whole epilogue, were sup- pressed in the first edition. Gruget restored the epilogue in the second edition, but not the passage relating to the crucifix. 504 ^^-^ HEPTA ME RON OF THE \ Amd 05 . true ; but the Scriptures inform me that He scorns the ignorant ; and if we are there commanded to be simple as doves, we are also enjoined to be prudent as serpents." " For my part," said Oisille, " I do not regard as ignorant her who carries before God her lighted candle, as making ame^ide honorable, kneeling on the ground, and candle in hand, to her sovereign Lord, in order to confess her guilt, and pray with lively faith for His grace and salvation." "Would to God that everyone acquitted herself in this way as well as you," said Dagoucin ; " but I do not believe that poor ignorant women do the thing with this intention." " Those women who are least capable of expressing themselves well," rejoined Oisille, "are often those who have the most lively sense of the love and the will of God ; consequently, it is not prudent to judge any but oneself."

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Meanwhile, the two brothers, misdoubting them sore lest Master Ciappelletto should play them false, had posted themselves behind a wainscot, that divided the chamber where he lay from another, and listening, easily heard and apprehended that which he said to the friar and had whiles so great a mind to laugh, hearing the things which he confessed to having done, that they were like to burst and said, one to other, 'What manner of man is this, whom neither old age nor sickness nor fear of death, whereunto he seeth himself near, nor yet of God, before whose judgment-seat he looketh to be ere long, have availed to turn from his wickedness nor hinder him from choosing to die as he hath lived?' However, seeing that he had so spoken that he should be admitted to burial in a church, they recked nought of the rest. Master Ciappelletto presently took the sacrament and, growing rapidly worse, received extreme unction, and a little after evensong of the day he had made his fine confession, he died; whereupon the two brothers, having, of his proper monies, taken order for his honourable burial, sent to the convent to acquaint the friars therewith, bidding them come thither that night to hold vigil, according to usance, and fetch away the body in the morning, and meanwhile made ready all that was needful thereunto. The holy friar, who had shriven him, hearing that he had departed this life, betook himself to the prior of the convent and, letting ring to chapter, gave out to the brethren therein assembled that Master Ciappelletto had been a holy man, according to that which he had gathered from his confession, and persuaded them to receive his body with the utmost reverence and devotion, in the hope that God should show forth many miracles through him. To this the prior and brethren credulously consented and that same evening, coming all whereas Master Ciappelletto lay dead, they held high and solemn vigil over him and on the morrow, clad all in albs and copes, book in hand and crosses before them, they went, chanting the while, for his body and brought it with the utmost pomp and solemnity to their church, followed by well nigh all the people of the city, men and women.

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  Great men had loved her, great writers had written about her, one had died, it was said, because she refused him, but Valérie was not attracted to men—yet as Stephen would see if she went to her parties, she had many devoted friends among men. In this respect she was almost unique, being what she was, for men did not resent her. But then of course all intelligent people realized that she was a creature apart, as would Stephen the moment she met her. Brockett babbled away, and as he did so his voice took on the effeminate timbre that Stephen always hated and dreaded: ‘Oh, my dear!’ he exclaimed with a high little laugh, ‘I’m so excited about this meeting of yours, I’ve a feeling it may be momentous. What fun!’ And his soft, white hands grew restless, making their foolish gestures. She looked at him coldly, wondering the while how she could tolerate this young man—why indeed, she chose to endure him. 5 The first thing that struck Stephen about Valérie’s flat was its large and rather splendid disorder. There was something blissfully unkempt about it, as though its mistress were too much engrossed in other affairs to control its behaviour. Nothing was quite where it ought to have been, and much was where it ought not to have been, while over the whole lay a faint layer of dust—even over the spacious salon. The odour of somebody’s Oriental scent was mingling with the odour of tuberoses in a sixteenth century chalice. On a divan, whose truly regal proportions occupied the best part of a shadowy alcove, lay a box of Fuller’s peppermint creams and a lute, but the strings of the lute were broken. Valérie came forward with a smile of welcome. She was not beautiful nor was she imposing, but her limbs were very perfectly proportioned, which gave her a fictitious look of tallness. She moved well, with the quiet and unconscious grace that sprang from those perfect proportions. Her face was humorous, placid and worldly; her eyes very kind, very blue, very lustrous. She was dressed all in white, and a large white fox skin was clasped round her slender and shapely shoulders. For the rest she had masses of thick fair hair, which was busily ridding itself of its hairpins; one could see at a glance that it hated restraint, like the flat it was in rather splendid disorder. She said: ‘I’m so delighted to meet you at last, Miss Gordon, do come and sit down. And please smoke if you want to,’ she added quickly, glancing at Stephen’s tell-tale fingers.

• From The Incendiaries (2018)

  Kid, what’s the rush? I don’t mean to push you— Sure, you do, he said. —but I need the cash. Since you said that I, I’ve waited tables two months, so I was hoping . . . He dropped his pen on the pulpit top. Tell me something, he said. Do I look like I give a fuck what you need? No. He nodded. On the third upswing, he raised his head. Do I care what you need, or what I need? What you need, Paul. I’ll ask you something, he said. Why do people sit down at a restaurant like this, make a night of it? It’s not the food. If all they want is to eat, they can drive half a mile to the closest shop, buy a big, filling roast fucking chicken for six bucks. It’s not this crowd. Who spends to line up at the trough with a pile of strangers to get fed in unison like pigs? No. They’re wild about a first-rate place like this because it’s selling an illusion. He paused, expecting a response. It’s an illusion, I recited. That’s it, he said. Illusions, kiddo—but of what? The illusion of love, I said. I’d overheard him giving this catechism to waiters before. He clapped my back. Bingo. To be fed well is also to feel loved. But like with all illusions, you’ve got to be consistent. This cousin of mine, he worked in Disneyland, and he dressed up like one of those animals, Mickey, Ducky, I forget. His one job, it’s to strut around, let the little kids take pictures with him. They’d shout like he was this big hero. Not so hard, right? But then one day he felt sick, so he took off his head to throw up, and this one kid who noticed, he lost his shit. See, the kid believed my cousin was the cartoon. From the kid’s angle, Mickey had ripped off his own head. Like that, my cousin lost his job. Why? Because he busted the illusion. His boss told him, Idiot, you should have thrown up in your costume. Will, at times, I look at you, I can tell you’re not faking it right. I want you to act like this place is a magic kingdom. Do you get what I’m saying? I said I did. He picked up his gold pen again. The first diners traipsed in, a trio of women collapsing rain-slick umbrellas. The host assigned them to my section. Writing down drink orders, I considered Paul’s speech. He wasn’t criticizing my table-waiting abilities. Otherwise, I wouldn’t still have this job, let alone the night shift. But I should try acting more like him, I thought. Slap backs as he did, dispersing jokes, high spirits. It’s often all people want, urging a change: be like me, shaped in this image. –

• From Macho Sluts (1988)

  As the judge who banned Coming to Power in New Zealand said, “Some of the stories are well written but … The book is in the finding of the Tribunal clearly indecent.” The same tribunal had classified The Joy of Lesbian Sex to be “indecent in the hands of persons under the age of eighteen” despite the fact that “the book is well written, informative, and well presented. The subject is sensitively handled … and by comparison with other manuals on lesbianism is of a superior standard.” And despite the fact that “lesbianism is not outside the law” in New Zealand! Well-written, sexually explicit material is sometimes even more threatening to the status quo than pulp. In The End of Obscenity (Simon and Schuster, 1968, page 435), Charles Rembar, the attorney who successfully defended Lady Chatterley’s Lover , The Tropic of Cancer , and Fanny Hill against obscenity charges, comments on problems he faced writing legal briefs that argued that these works should not be banned: One was “well-written obscenity.” The cry had plagued us all through these cases. Good writing, every one of my opponents had declared, is no excuse. If not all of them said—as many of them did—the better the writing the more dangerous the book, they all agreed that literary quality could not make an obscene book non-obscene. People who wring their hands because obscenity laws have been used to hassle the publishers of D. H. Lawrence and James Joyce are correct to bemoan the chilling effect this has had on including sexuality in “serious” (i.e., non-pornographic) fiction. But they miss another crucial point. Because the censors are even more afraid of well-written porn than they are of expletive-ridden drivel, publishers shy away from pornographic manuscripts that are too literary because in the past, this has incurred the wrath of the authorities. The dearth of good writing in porn is at least as tragic as the dearth of sex in literature. It persists despite the fact that literary quality is now considered to be one sort of social value that may rescue a work from being declared obscene and vulnerable to being confiscated and destroyed, at least in this country. The task of creating high-quality pornography is a challenge worthy of any talented writer. It just isn’t that easy to get a reader hopelessly and unforgettably aroused. I am not talking about the auto-erotic Pavlovian response that some of us have developed to the repetition of certain key words. I am talking about phrases that stay with the reader, images that come back in the middle of a work day and make her blush, a book that she will want to read again and won’t loan to her friends because she knows she’ll never get it back—not a disposable paperback she can toss into the garbage without remembering if she ever read it or not.

• From The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma (2014)

  Our study showed that, on a deep level, the bodies of incest victims have trouble distinguishing between danger and safety. This means that the imprint of past trauma does not consist only of distorted perceptions of information coming from the outside; the organism itself also has a problem knowing how to feel safe. The past is impressed not only on their minds, and in misinterpretations of innocuous events (as when Marilyn attacked Michael because he accidentally touched her in her sleep), but also on the very core of their beings: in the safety of their bodies.[2] A Torn Map of the WorldHow do people learn what is safe and what is not safe, what is inside and what is outside, what should be resisted and what can safely be taken in? The best way we can understand the impact of child abuse and neglect is to listen to what people like Marilyn can teach us. One of the things that became clear as I came to know her better was that she had her own unique view of how the world functions. As children, we start off at the center of our own universe, where we interpret everything that happens from an egocentric vantage point. If our parents or grandparents keep telling us we’re the cutest, most delicious thing in the world, we don’t question their judgment—we must be exactly that. And deep down, no matter what else we learn about ourselves, we will carry that sense with us: that we are basically adorable. As a result, if we later hook up with somebody who treats us badly, we will be outraged. It won’t feel right: It’s not familiar; it’s not like home. But if we are abused or ignored in childhood, or grow up in a family where sexuality is treated with disgust, our inner map contains a different message. Our sense of our self is marked by contempt and humiliation, and we are more likely to think “he (or she) has my number” and fail to protest if we are mistreated. Marilyn’s past shaped her view of every relationship. She was convinced that men didn’t give a damn about other people’s feelings and that they got away with whatever they wanted. Women couldn’t be trusted either. They were too weak to stand up for themselves, and they’d sell their bodies to get men to take care of them. If you were in trouble, they wouldn’t lift a finger to help you. This worldview manifested itself in the way Marilyn approached her colleagues at work: She was suspicious of the motives of anyone who was kind to her and called them on the slightest deviation from the nursing regulations. As for herself: She was a bad seed, a fundamentally toxic person who made bad things happen to those around her.

• From The Pillar of Salt (1953)

  Actually, a time soon came when I could no longer pretend or argue and couldn’t care much about appearances either. During discussions in school, I was even surprised to hear myself say, perhaps only to try a new phrase, that there was no God. Often a rhetorical affirmation aided me in the heat of an argument and increased my convictions. Then I took one step further: how could I say that God didn’t exist, but still go to the synagogue? What horrible hypocrisy! Gradually, I stopped accompanying my father to temple, even for the High Holidays. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged me there. Our local dogma was unbelievably primitive: an incoherent mixture of Berber superstitions, old wives’ beliefs, and formal rites that could not satisfy the smallest spiritual need. The rabbis were silly, ignorant, and unprepossessing. Their filthy Oriental robes and faded fezzes were part of the life of sordid neighborhoods that I wanted to forget; their complicity and their resignation, in so many blatant stupidities that stifled me, roused my scorn. Soon, in my indignation, I began to confuse the synagogue with the ghetto. My overt break, however, was not the most difficult. To save myself internally, I contrived tests. I fought the uneasiness I felt on entering the deeply moving gloom of our old temples, and I walked deliberately up to their damp walls so as to face the mystery of the tabernacle, making wisecracks about the magic of oil lamps and the green light of ancient windows, the oppressive odor of old leather, of parchment and incense. There, I began to reason and to wrestle with myself. The little flames jutting out of the oil lamps are not souls: a ridiculous superstition! Souls are not immortal, heaven and hell do not exist!

• From The Pillar of Salt (1953)

  Half smiling, I waited patiently for the poor little rich kid to reach the end of his tantrum. No one was in a rush to pay me, and it sometimes happened that I wasn’t paid at all. The richer my pupils were, the worse they paid, and the longer I had to wait, and I never dared press them for fear of seeming to be mercenary or dependent on their money. Middle-class people, who spent so much money on their own amusements and vanity, often felt that what they paid me was excessive and that I was obligated to them. Still, if I managed, however barely, to cover my expenses, I was always left with what I “might have earned.” How stupid it is to take seriously this “might have earned,” I mean the money one might earn had one preferred to work rather than study or travel or live, had one remained behind a counter or at a desk. A boy of my age ought to be earning a certain sum of money. Agreed. Admitted by all. This sum glittered in my father’s eyes, a stopgap, in his imagination, for the holes in his budget; and it grew more important as I grew older. His voice was full of regret if he told us how much money the sons of his colleagues were already earning for their families. Makil’s son was in charge of his father’s shop; the son of Sebah, the forger, was doing twice the work of an average workman; Bouirou, Aunt Menna’s oldest boy, had been taken on by Uncle Simon and was now earning three hundred francs; everyone marveled at the courage of Georges, the youngest of the Abbous, who was now able to assume all the responsibility of tailoring a jacket. He and his mother, a buttonhole-and-lining specialist, formed an indefatigable team and were bringing prosperity into the Abbou home. A good, good boy! But I felt only contempt for the zeal of Georges Abbou whose whole ambition consisted in tailoring jackets. “He’s exactly your age,” insisted my father. “Ex-act-ly.” “More-or-less,” my mother corrected and began reckoning aloud. “You were born on the third day of the feast of the Maccabees and Georges was born the eighth.” My father threw her a wary, provoked look and continued. What luck it was for my aunt and my poor blind uncle to have such a son! And their other children seemed to be choosing the same path. My father swore that none of my brothers or sisters would stay in school a day longer than was necessary for the school certificate. In the name of justice, they must help him.

• From The Pillar of Salt (1953)

  He accepted, for a small fee and a dish of couscous, to make a round of all the flats toward the end of the solemn feast. So everything was saved, modern comfort and the respect due to religion. For me, this was too fine an opportunity, an additional proof of their hypocrisy and duplicity. With sly jokes or open criticism, I assured them all that, as far as God was concerned, their sin remained as great, whether committed directly or through an intermediary. As a matter of mere dignity, I preferred those who went about their comforts courageously and who chose to turn the lights off themselves. If, however, one wanted to take the old traditions seriously, then one would have to accept discomfort and return to using the Argand lamps. The tribe’s irritated anger delighted me; I knew just how to pique their troubled conscience. Unfortunately, however, I didn’t know how to accept triumph modestly, and almost no Friday night passed without my making some treacherous remark. How could I tolerate their compromises, I who could never allow myself any? At one of these bitter Friday evening dinners under the new light, we were already dozing in the torpor and silence of incipient digestion. I was in revolt against this heaviness of body and mind too, and sighed nostalgically whenever I read the menus advised by health magazines. Couscous with meatballs that had been cooked and cooked again in oil, fat marrowbone soup, boiled meat, grilled chick-peas, raw turnip with pickled red peppers. Suddenly, Elisa, my younger sister, burst into sobs. She often did this and began to cry vigorously without any preparation, like a phonograph record turned on in the middle. It was difficult to stop her. We would amuse ourselves by wondering how this swarthy, long-necked, frail, sickly little girl, thin and sullen as a crow, could have such extraordinary vocal powers. She was sobbing and speaking at the same time, and we guessed the usual reason for her despair. She could not manage to swallow her meat and cried for permission to spit out the big colorless cuds. This waste angered my father. In the ghetto, he said, no one ate meat as often as we; he had to work like a dog, despite his illness, to allow Elisa to spit out meat, her meat! Crushed and miserable, Elisa cried all the more lustily. My mother put in her two cents’ worth, trying to protect her daughter without further irritating her husband. Elisa had chewed her meat very well: “Didn’t you chew it well? Answer me! Didn’t you?” Of course, she had extracted all the juice from it, and the juices are the goodness, the soul of the meat! So she had only spat out the waste, the husk! We other children were never fooled by these maternal diversionary tactics which were always a bit too obvious.