Desire

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 Swimming-Pool Library (1988)

  There were a few seconds of puzzlement before I worked it out: ‘I expect he meant that you looked like a Bacon.’ But it was going to take too much explaining. Aldo continued pleasantly with an account of portering opportunities in offal and the many under-the-counter benefits of his trade (some nice heart or brains one day, the next perhaps some good fresh liver). I found my eyes resting with momentary respect on the chalked-up menu of alfalfa-sprout salad, chickpea casserole, lentil and parsnip pie … ‘ Sorry , William, Gavin Croft-Parker, what an honour, Aldo poppet …’—Staines was among us, clutching at hands, emphatically friendly and humble on his great night. ‘Do forgive me. There was that dullest of men from the whatsit, Bright City Lights, whatever it’s called. Apparently everyone’s opinion is simply made by consulting his organ, so you have to be dreamily dreamily compliant and answer all his dreary dreary questions. So ignorant,’ Staines whispered, ‘he’d no idea what a pyx was; and as for a scapular … he said, “Do you mean the collarbone?” I said “I don’t—and anyway it isn’t the collarbone, it’s the shoulderblade.” Clearly he was never a Catholic, and then I’ve ticked him off and he’ll say something vile in his article just because I’ve made him feel small.’ He took a swig from his glass. ‘Still, I suppose it’ll only be half an inch under the “Gay Listings” ’ (a prophecy with which I was bound to agree). ‘I must have a look upstairs,’ said Gavin, weaving away from us, and I nodded to him, realising he was going altogether. When I turned back Staines was negligently fondling Aldo’s muscly shoulder and gazing distractedly around the crowded room. It was probably better to catch him while I could. ‘Excellent show,’ I said. ‘My dear, do you like it. I’m not utterly utterly displeased with it myself. But of course other people’s praise means more to one even than one’s own!’ ‘You’ve managed to find some fascinating models. I like your St Peter particularly—but then I have known him for some time.’ ‘Old Ashley!—or rather Billy, as he calls himself professionally.’ ‘I’d no idea.’ ‘Mm—he thought Ashley was too girly, especially after April … But I still think of him as “Old Ash”—Ash on an old man’s sleeve, dear …’ ‘Fabulous tits!’ ‘ Don’t!’ Staines shivered, and looked at me with a new, suspicious curiosity. ‘There’s one of your models I’m sorry not to see stretched on the rack tonight.’ I looked about and tried to keep my manner sluttish and casual. ‘One of your most intriguing ones, I should say.’ ‘My dear, I’m sorry. Not all of my boys were ready, or indeed eager, for divine sacrifice.’ ‘He’s called Colin—thin, short curly hair, blue eyes, permanent tan, permanent everything else pretty well too.’ ‘Oh, Colin. You like him do you? He is rather extraordinaire.

• From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)

  It was a lesson in manners at lunch. Hubert & Eddie were particularly abandoned, cramming ham & gherkins into their mouths, slopping drink about, & behaving in a thoroughly aristocratic fashion. When Tim got up, Hubert spread mayonnaise on the bench, hoping he’d sit down in it, but Sandy, of course, who rather grandly partook only of a bread-roll & a glass of champagne, shouted out to him just in time, & earned some sullen gratitude. I ate, I think I can say, in a perfectly decorous fashion, with a slight sprawling over the table in deference to the occasion. But Chancey was a paragon of etiquette, wielding cutlery like a born lady in his rugger-player’s hands. He never relaxes, & seems constantly aware of his inferior station, though everyone else would gladly forget it. ‘Of course, we never had champagne at home,’ he confessed to me—so I made him drink from the bottle till the foam ran down his chin. All the while Tom & his boys sat by the door eating in silence, Tom taking frequent top-ups from a bottle he seemed to have established as his own, & saying ‘None for the boy’ whenever Eddie proffered a glass in his direction. Poor Tom’s boy! I soon felt revived by the drink & looked at him with more interest. His clothes were all too small, which made him look wretched and absurd at the same time as showing how large he was. Only his tweed cap was big enough, & threatened to come down altogether over his wide, if incurious, gaze. I had quite a vivid idea of him wrestling with me & throwing me about. After a while people wandered outside, Tom was reluctantly pulled back into action, holding on to his bottle & advising against any further sport in the afternoon. S. retired to the car & Chancey & I strolled into the little back room, with glasses in our hands, as though we had been at a party at a house in town, & were going to look at the pictures. And there were pictures. The room had a bowed church window, which looked as if it had been ripped out of a much older building, with rather lurid stained glass & in the middle two medallions with portraits of sweet, curly-headed little boys in ruffs, haloed in urine-coloured light. There must have been some curious family tale behind it. ‘A fine pair of fairies,’ quoth Chancey, with ill-judged humour.

• From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)

  We perched for a while by a little shelf, drinking quite fast, feet rocking to the music, more or less silent though I pointed people out to him and he looked and nodded in a factual sort of way, not feeling, perhaps, that it was quite right to rave adulterously about other men. Even so, he was enthralled when Sebastian Smith moved through the crowd at the heart of his own little crowd, who touched, supported and congratulated him. He had come fresh, exhausted, from Sadler’s Wells, was still on the serene, unpunctured high of adoration and acclaim, still sustained, as in some sugary Spanish Assumption, by the pink clouds of triumph and the tumbling black putti of his entourage. Still wearing, too, his leotards (though now with little patent, winking pumps), his torso rising in a naked black triangle to the glitter-sprinkled, ballerina-hefting shoulders. Everyone wanted him to dance, and he came forward, considering it, to the floor’s edge—one foot set before the other as if on a gym bar, the long, taut thighs chafing, all the effort instinctively keeping his body steady, as though it were his discipline to carry a glass of water on his head or to propel without obscene lurching the contents of his high, prancing basket. But he decided against it, paced back to a darkened corner, leaving me with a faint ache of adulation and inadequacy. Phil I found had that look of relished, vulgar curiosity which from time to time reminded me that he was as prone to sudden lusts as the next man. Not for you, dear, I thought, as I gestured ‘Let’s dance’, he carefully finished his drink, and we felt our way through the gay throng. I turned, we sculpted out a little area on the edge of the mass of dancers, and were drunk enough to be dancing already, Phil too (who I thought might selfconsciously jiggle), going into a kind of mood, hardly looking at me and swivelling chunkily to left and right in a tight, fashionable style he must have picked up somewhere. I sprang about in my own reckless way. In a sense we had nothing to do with each other, though I kept an eye on him and grinned with pleasure when his shy dark gaze held mine. Then I would whirl him round once or twice, and hold his handsome head and kiss him clumsily, bumping noses.

• From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)

  He had a pleasantly snobbish respect for our family; my grandfather was very fond of James, whom he saw as a humane and practical person, with charming manners and a keen interest in the arts. ‘I despise them all,’ I protested, turning away from a macabre trio of queens, very got-up with gloves and velvet bow-ties. ‘The way some of these creatures look at you, you feel as though you’re being violated—ocularly.’ James was a little embarrassed, had not yet slipped out of the responsibilities of the day, was to be on his best behaviour, and yet also, I knew, longed to side with extravagance. I was in a mood of atrocious egotism, brought on by what had turned out to be absolute adoration from Phil, but I seemed to sense, as I looked across the hall and up the long mirrored stairway, a further perspective, in which James and I were together as we had been in the past. ‘They might pay less attention to you,’ he said, ‘if you don’t look like something out of the Arabian Nights. You appear to have an erection, as well.’ ‘Of course I’ve got an erection. I’m in love.’ James gave me a comically shrewd look. ‘Oh God. And who’s the victim this time?’ ‘What a horrid thing to say!’ I swept the audience with another glare. ‘He’s a boy from the Corry, actually—a body-builder—short—dark hair—called Phil.’ Just saying that made me wish I were with him even more. I glanced at James and saw a look of terrible anxiety pass over his face. ‘I wonder if it’s anyone I’ve seen there,’ he said. Then: ‘Ah—here’s Lord B.’ My grandfather, looking very fine with sleek grey hair and sun-browned face, was making his way courteously through the crowd. ‘James. Very good to see you.’ They shook hands and grinned. ‘Turning in, old boy?’ he said to me. ‘I could have a bed made up in the box.’ At the same time he shook me by the scruff of the neck, insisting on his joke even as he showed he did not mean it. The glow of mutual appreciation permeated my mood. We started upstairs ‘Did you have a sleep after lunch?’ I enquired. ‘I think I probably did drop off—how about you?’ ‘Mm—I spent all afternoon in bed,’ I replied truthfully. ‘Frightfully good lunch, though. Do you know this restaurant, James?’ ‘Where did you go?’ ‘The Crépuscule des Dieux.’ He chuckled. ‘It ought to be just up your street …’ He meant, because of Wagner, though he can’t have been unaware of the discreetly homosexual style of the whole place, the waiters in tails with long white aprons, the rich older men treating their bored and flirtatious young dolly-boys. ‘Not the food for you, though, perhaps—all swimming in blood!’

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

  Reply to Objection 3: The sin of fornication is contrary to the good of the human race, in so far as it is prejudicial to the individual begetting of the one man that may be born. Now one who is already an actual member of the human species attains to the perfection of the species more than one who is a man potentially, and from this point of view murder is a more grievous sin than fornication and every kind of lust, through being more opposed to the good of the human species. Again, a Divine good is greater than the good of the human race: and therefore those sins also that are against God are more grievous. Moreover, fornication is a sin against God, not directly as though the fornicator intended to offend God, but consequently, in the same way as all mortal sins. And just as the members of our body are Christ’s members, so too, our spirit is one with Christ, according to 1 Cor. 6:17, “He who is joined to the Lord is one spirit.” Wherefore also spiritual sins are more against Christ than fornication is. Whether there can be mortal sin in touches and kisses?Objection 1: It would seem that there is no mortal sin in touches and kisses. For the Apostle says (Eph. 5:3): “Fornication and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not so much as be named among you, as becometh saints,” then he adds: “Or obscenity” (which a gloss refers to “kissing and fondling”), “or foolish talking” (as “soft speeches”), “or scurrility” (which “fools call geniality—i.e. jocularity”), and afterwards he continues (Eph. 5:5): “For know ye this and understand that no fornicator, or unclean, or covetous person (which is the serving of idols), hath inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God,” thus making no further mention of obscenity, as neither of foolish talking or scurrility. Therefore these are not mortal sins. Objection 2: Further, fornication is stated to be a mortal sin as being prejudicial to the good of the future child’s begetting and upbringing. But these are not affected by kisses and touches or blandishments. Therefore there is no mortal sin in these. Objection 3: Further, things that are mortal sins in themselves can never be good actions. Yet kisses, touches, and the like can be done sometimes without sin. Therefore they are not mortal sins in themselves. On the contrary, A lustful look is less than a touch, a caress or a kiss. But according to Mat. 5:28, “Whosoever shall look on a woman to lust after her hath already committed adultery with her in his heart.” Much more therefore are lustful kisses and other like things mortal sins.

• From My Life and Loves, Vol. 1 (of 4) (1922)

  “You should go in and lie down”, said Mrs. Mayhew still full of pity, “see” and she opened a door, “there’s the guest bedroom all ready.” I saw my chance and went over to her: “if you’d come too”, I whispered and then, “the coffee has made me quite well: won’t you, Lorna, give me a kiss? You don’t know how often I said your name last night, you dear!” and in a moment I had again taken her face and put my lips on hers. She gave me her lips this time and my kiss became a caress; but in a little while she drew away and said, “let’s sit and talk, I want to know all you are doing.” So I seated myself beside her on the sofa and told her all my news. She thought I would be comfortable with the Gregorys. “Mrs. Gregory is a good woman”, she added, “and I hear the girl’s engaged to a cousin: do you think her pretty?” “I think no one pretty but you, Lorna”, I said and I pressed her head down on the arm of the sofa and kissed her. Her lips grew hot: I was certain. At once I put my hand down on her sex; she struggled a little at first, which I took care should bring our bodies closer and when she ceased struggling I put my hands up her dress and began caressing her sex: it was hot and wet, as I knew it would be, and opened readily.

• From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)

  It’s getting ridiculous. Never used to be like this.’ I agreed that it was inconvenient, and suggested that the club was hungry for the money more membership must bring. ‘Very true, Will. But the interests of the members there are already have to be considered. It’s supposed to be democratically run, you know, this place.’ He looked around mournfully. ‘Seen young Phil lately?’ he asked with slight bashfulness. I hadn’t seen him here the previous evening, and I was left uncertain if it had been him in the cinema. ‘I haven’t, actually. Has he been neglecting his training?’ ‘He may have been coming in earlier,’ Bill assured himself. ‘There may be some other gym he goes to, too. I don’t know. He needs to keep in trim, though. Very nice little body, that.’ ‘Not so little,’ I suggested, remembering the beautiful hard heaviness in the dark. ‘What does he do, anyway?’ ‘He works in a hotel actually,’ Bill declared, proud to know this fact, which might be taken as the token of a fuller intimacy than was, evidently, the case. ‘How extraordinary,’ I said, my image of Phil as a military figure distorted by this notion, but settling into a new image of him, still in uniform however, marching along an upstairs corridor with a tray of coffee and sandwiches held at shoulder height. ‘Which one, do you know?’ ‘Not sure about that, Will,’ Bill admitted. ‘One of the big famous ones, I think.’ James had been swimming diligently while I was in the weights room and when I went down to the pool he was hanging by his elbows in the deep end, in spasmodic conversation with a person I hadn’t seen before. By a silly convention I always affected a censorious attitude towards men he might actually be getting somewhere with. I stopped by him at the end of my first length, pretended to adjust the strap of my goggles, and raising my eyebrows (an effort doubtless diminished by the goggles themselves) declared, ‘I don’t think much of yours, dear,’ before plunging on. Up in the showers afterwards he was standing beside the same person, and the reason for it became clearer. The boy, very brown all over, except for a pink triangle above the crack of his ass, was thin and wiry, though not quite unattractively so, his colour glamorising (as it can do a nondescript Italian or Arab) what would have been a meagre body if pale.

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

  Reply to Objection 1: Some expound this saying of the Apostle as referring, not to actual covetousness, but to a kind of habitual covetousness, which is the concupiscence of the “fomes” [*Cf. [3258]FS, Q[81], A[3], ad 2], whence all sins arise. Others say that he is speaking of a general covetousness with regard to any kind of good: and in this sense also it is evident that prodigality arises from covetousness; since the prodigal seeks to acquire some temporal good inordinately, namely, to give pleasure to others, or at least to satisfy his own will in giving. But to one that reviews the passage correctly, it is evident that the Apostle is speaking literally of the desire of riches, for he had said previously (1 Tim. 6:9): “They that will become rich,” etc. In this sense covetousness is said to be “the root of all evils,” not that all evils always arise from covetousness, but because there is no evil that does not at some time arise from covetousness. Wherefore prodigality sometimes is born of covetousness, as when a man is prodigal in going to great expense in order to curry favor with certain persons from whom he may receive riches. Reply to Objection 2: The Apostle bids the rich to be ready to give and communicate their riches, according as they ought. The prodigal does not do this: since, as the Philosopher remarks (Ethic. iv, 1), “his giving is neither good, nor for a good end, nor according as it ought to be. For sometimes they give much to those who ought to be poor, namely, to buffoons and flatterers, whereas to the good they give nothing.” Reply to Objection 3: The excess in prodigality consists chiefly, not in the total amount given, but in the amount over and above what ought to be given. Hence sometimes the liberal man gives more than the prodigal man, if it be necessary. Accordingly we must reply that those who give all their possessions with the intention of following Christ, and banish from their minds all solicitude for temporal things, are not prodigal but perfectly liberal. Whether prodigality is a more grievous sin than covetousness?Objection 1: It seems that prodigality is a more grievous sin than covetousness. For by covetousness a man injures his neighbor by not communicating his goods to him, whereas by prodigality a man injures himself, because the Philosopher says (Ethic. iv, 1) that “the wasting of riches, which are the means whereby a man lives, is an undoing of his very being.” Now he that injures himself sins more grievously, according to Ecclus. 14:5, “He that is evil to himself, to whom will he be good?” Therefore prodigality is a more grievous sin than covetousness.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  On the other side he thought of the gaine, and the passing pleasure of the crownes of gold; in the end the desire of the money did more prevaile then the feare of death, for the beauty of the flowrishing crownes did so sticke in his mind, that where the menaces of his master compelled him to tarry at home, the pestilent avarice of gold egged him out a doores, wherefore putting all shame aside, without further delay, he declared all the whole matter to his Mistresse, who according to the nature of a woman, when she heard him speake of so great a summe she bound chastity in a string, and gave authority to Myrmex to rule her in that case. Myrmex seeing the intent of his Mistresse, was very glad, and for great desire of the gold, he ran hastily to Philesiterus, declaring that his Mistresse was consented to his mind, wherefore he demanded the gold which he promised. Then incontinently Philesiterus delivered him tenne Crownes, and when night came, Myrmex brought him disguised into his mistresses Chamber. About Midnight when he and she were naked together, making sacrifice unto the Goddesse Venus, behold her husband (contrary to their expectation) came and knocked at the doore, calling with a loud voice to his Servant Myrmex: whose long tarrying increased the suspition of his Master, in such sort that he threatned to beat Myrmex cruelly: but he being troubled with feare, and driven to his latter shifts, excused the matter saying: that he could not find the key: by reason it was so darke. In the meane season Philesiterus hearing the noise at the doore, slipt on his coat and privily ran out of the Chamber. When Myrmex had opened the doore to his Master that threatned terribly, and had let him in, he went into the Chamber to his wife: In the mean while Myrmex let out Philesiterus, and barred the doores fast, and went againe to bed. The next morning when Barbarus awaked, he perceived two unknown slippers lying under his bed, which Philesiterus had forgotten when he went away. Then he conceived a great suspition and jealousie in mind, howbeit he would not discover it to his wife, neither to any other person, but putting secretly the slippers into his bosome, commanded his other Servants to bind Myrmex incontinently, and to bring him bound to the Justice after him, thinking verily that by the meane of the slippers he might boult out the matter.

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

  (6) Whether it is requisite for fasting to eat but once? (7) The hour of eating for those who fast; (8) The meats from which it is necessary to abstain. Whether fasting is an act of virtue?Objection 1: It would seem that fasting is not an act of virtue. For every act of virtue is acceptable to God. But fasting is not always acceptable to God, according to Is. 58:3, “Why have we fasted and Thou hast not regarded?” Therefore fasting is not an act of virtue. Objection 2: Further, no act of virtue forsakes the mean of virtue. Now fasting forsakes the mean of virtue, which in the virtue of abstinence takes account of the necessity of supplying the needs of nature, whereas by fasting something is retrenched therefrom: else those who do not fast would not have the virtue of abstinence. Therefore fasting is not an act of virtue. Objection 3: Further, that which is competent to all, both good and evil, is not an act of virtue. Now such is fasting, since every one is fasting before eating. Therefore fasting is not an act of virtue. On the contrary, It is reckoned together with other virtuous acts (2 Cor. 6:5,6) where the Apostle says: “In fasting, in knowledge, in chastity, etc. [Vulg.: ‘in chastity, in knowledge’].” I answer that, An act is virtuous through being directed by reason to some virtuous [honestum] [*Cf.[3478] Q[145], A[1]] good. Now this is consistent with fasting, because fasting is practiced for a threefold purpose. First, in order to bridle the lusts of the flesh, wherefore the Apostle says (2 Cor. 6:5,6): “In fasting, in chastity,” since fasting is the guardian of chastity. For, according to Jerome [*Contra Jov. ii.] “Venus is cold when Ceres and Bacchus are not there,” that is to say, lust is cooled by abstinence in meat and drink. Secondly, we have recourse to fasting in order that the mind may arise more freely to the contemplation of heavenly things: hence it is related (Dan. 10) of Daniel that he received a revelation from God after fasting for three weeks. Thirdly, in order to satisfy for sins: wherefore it is written (Joel 2:12): “Be converted to Me with all your heart, in fasting and in weeping and in mourning.” The same is declared by Augustine in a sermon (De orat. et Jejun. [*Serm. lxxii (ccxxx, de Tempore)]): “Fasting cleanses the soul, raises the mind, subjects one’s flesh to the spirit, renders the heart contrite and humble, scatters the clouds of concupiscence, quenches the fire of lust, kindles the true light of chastity.”

• From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)

  That deep and telling blush of his that I loved pumped up into his cheeks and forehead and into his short back and sides, and soaked downwards, over the strong shaft of his neck, fading into his glossy chest. On the way home we stopped off at the Volunteer, and had a beer outside on the pavement, caught up in that sad, erotic mood of an early evening in summer—working people going home, the first queens coming into the pub, dusty tiredness mixing with anticipation. I gazed up and down the street, said little, and from time to time looked ironically at Phil, I think shocked to find how easily he could be manipulated, slightly sick with a feeling that perhaps I wouldn’t be able to keep him. That afternoon I had turned him into pornography, and I was shaken to find Staines following my own instinct so literally, so instantaneously; proud, too, but with the unease of a sexual braggart. Phil himself had an air of compromised but defiant success about him. As we turned into my road he was hobbling and said, ‘Will, I’m busting for a piss.’ The tight waistband of my trousers squeezed cruelly on his bladder, swollen with a couple of pints of lager. By the time we had entered the house and climbed the stairs he hardly dared move, and clutched at himself with a babyish moan of need. I unlocked the door and as he slipped in caught him by the arm and made him stand where he was. Then I knelt down and undid his shoes and pulled his socks off: he was jiggling on the spot, gasping ‘Man, hurry up! ’ But instead of letting him go I led him onto the lino of the kitchen, and he stood there, obedient and desperate. I took off his shirt, and undid the top button of his trousers, restoring his porno image—some tough, cocky, bemused little tart. His dick was already half-hard from the desire to piss, and as I kissed him, and bit him, and licked his tits, I whispered to him to let it go. I slipped my hands between his legs and squeezed his balls, and watched his eyes widen as he overcame his inhibition. He looked grateful, almost ecstatic, as the first shy stain blossomed in his lap, his cock jacked up under the thin skin-tight cotton, and then it was all happening, it pumped out, on and on, his left leg darkening and glistening as it drenched down. An abundant, infantile puddle spread on the lino, and when he had finished I went behind him, pulled down his trousers, pushed him to the floor and fucked him in it like a madman. Later we shared a bath with foam up to our ears, like they always discreetly have in films.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  But I was not a little sorry that I had traind him into such a vaine of talke, that I lost a good part of the night, and the sweete pleasure thereof: but at length I boldly said to Milo, Let Diophanes fare well with his evil fortune, and get againe that which he lost by sea and land, for I verily do yet feel the wearinesse of my travell, whereof I pray you pardon mee, and give me licence to depart to bed: wherewithall I rose up and went unto my chamber, where I found all things finely prepared and the childrens bed (because they should not heare what we did in the night) was removed far off without the chamber doore. The table was all covered with those meats that were left at supper, the cups were filled halfe full with water, to temper and delay the wines, the flagon stood ready prepared, and there lacked nothing that was necessary for the preparation of Venus. And when I was entring into the bed, behold my Fotis (who had brought her mistresse to bed) came in and gave me roses and floures which she had in her apron, and some she threw about the bed, and kissed mee sweetly, and tied a garland about my head, and bespred the chamber with the residue. Which when shee had done, shee tooke a cup of wine and delaied it with hot water, and profered it me to drinke; and before I had drunk it all off she pulled it from my mouth, and then gave it me againe, and in this manner we emptied the pot twice or thrice together. Thus when I had well replenished my self with wine, and was now ready unto Venery not onely in minde but also in body, I removed my cloathes, and shewing to Fotis my great impatiencie I sayd, O my sweet heart take pitty upon me and helpe me, for as you see I am now prepared unto the battell, which you your selfe did appoint: for after that I felt the first Arrow of cruell Cupid within my breast, I bent my bow very strong, and now feare, (because it is bended so hard) lest my string should breake: but that thou mayst the better please me, undresse thy haire and come and embrace me lovingly: whereupon shee made no long delay, but set aside all the meat and wine, and then she unapparelled her selfe, and unattyred her haire, presenting her amiable body unto me in manner of faire Venus, when shee goeth under the waves of the sea. Now (quoth shee) is come the houre of justing, now is come the time of warre, wherefore shew thy selfe like unto a man, for I will not retyre, I will not fly the field, see then thou bee valiant, see thou be couragious, since there is no time appointed when our skirmish shall cease.

• From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)

  In the event we had a delicious Belpoori that cost almost nothing, served by a boy James ogled with a quite new kind of forwardness, while the rain lashed down outside. Perhaps it was the rain that made us reminisce, about beautiful Oxford contemporaries and how they had become bankers, or put on weight, or got married. It was still raining when we left, so I suppressed my fondness for the Underground and took a lighted cab that was approaching. The cabby looked unimpressionable as I rather ostentatiously kissed James goodbye, and let my hand run down over his backside. He was so lovable, shy, manly, I couldn’t see why he wasn’t adored more, or more often. Yet if I couldn’t do it there might be a reason others couldn’t: he didn’t project sex enough, he was too subtle a taste for the instant world of clubs and bars. We had slept together once or twice, but we were both funny with each other and did no more than kiss and cuddle. ‘See you when all this is over, darling,’ I said, and nipped from under his umbrella into the taxi, looking, as I always instinctively do, at the cabby’s hand on the wheel to see if he wore a wedding-ring. I had had some good experiences with cabbies, and even straight ones could reach such a pitch of frustration, stuck in their cab and driving around mindlessly for hundreds of miles every day, that they were glad to come in for half an hour and talk filth, or you could show them a video and suck them off. This particular man, however, offered no temptation, and seemed to have become grafted into the grimy, bulging box of his cab. As we left the crowded, shop-brightened streets behind us and crossed into the exclusive quiet of Holland Park I yawned and looked out with pleasure at the deserted pavements, glistening where a street-lamp stood, the overhanging budding branches of trees in front gardens, the unthinking stability which wealth lent the small mansions behind them, where occasional windows, with curtains it was felt unnecessary to draw, revealed books reaching to coved ceilings, figures holding glasses moving about, discreet lighting picking out pictures in dull gold frames. I paid off the cabby at the gate, and jogged across the short gravel sweep to the door at the side of the dark house which gave access to the stairs to my apartment. A small lamp glowed above it, and the wet dripped down from the bare twigs of the creeper which surrounded the recessed porchway.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  After this she shewed them the storehouses of treasure, shee caused them to hear the voyces which served her, the bain was ready, the meats were brought in, and when they had filled themselves with divine delecates, they conceived great envy within their hearts, and one of them being curious, did demand what her husband was, of what estate, and who was Lord of so pretious a house? But Psyches remembring the promise which she had made to her husband, feigned that hee was a young man, of comely stature, with a flaxen beard, and had great delight in hunting the dales and hills by. And lest by her long talke she should be found to trip or faile in her words, she filled their laps with gold, silver, and Jewels, and commanded Zephyrus to carry them away. When they were brought up to the mountain, they made their wayes homeward to their owne houses, and murmured with envy that they bare against Psyches, saying, behold cruell and contrary fortune, behold how we, borne all of one Parent, have divers destinies: but especially we that are the elder two bee married to strange husbands, made as handmaidens, and as it were banished from our Countrey and friends. Whereas our younger sister hath great abundance of treasure, and hath gotten a god to her husband, although shee hath no skill how to use such great plenty of riches. Saw you not sister what was in the house, what great store of jewels, what glittering robes, what Gemmes, what gold we trod on? That if shee hath a husband according as shee affirmeth, there is none that liveth this day more happy in all the world than she. And so it may come to passe, at length for the great affection which hee may beare unto her that hee may make her a goddesse, for by Hercules, such was her countenance, so she behaved her self, that as a goddesse she had voices to serve her, and the windes did obey her. But I poore wretch have first married an husband elder than my father, more bald than a Coot, more weake than a childe, and that locketh me up all day in the house.

• From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)

  At Tottenham Court Road a young man got on whom I recognised and placed within a second or two as the wiry person that James had fancied a while ago in the showers. He was even more deeply tanned than before, and there was something unsettling about this, as there was about his big, protuberant cock, very emphatic in his light cotton trousers, and the contrast of its fatness with his thin, taut body. He had a sports bag over his shoulder, and the clean gleam of his forehead confirmed that he had come from the Corry and a shower. He stood opposite me in the doorway, and we held each other’s gaze for a long moment before each modestly looked away, though with the evident intention of looking back again after a few seconds. And so the sudden precipitation of sex had begun. At Oxford Circus many people got off, and I dropped into the seat next to the door. Many people also got on, so my view of the boy was blocked. He remained standing where he had been; when I looked across through the glass screen that shelters the seats from the door I saw only the bums and palms of standing passengers flattened witlessly against its other side. I was heightening the drama of the pick-up by making him follow me. This was impossible at Bond Street, where even more people got on. The seat I had taken was marked for the use of the elderly and handicapped, but had another claimant come, a figure like Charles, for instance, I would have been prepared to leave the train, when my stop came, with a lurching gait or limb held awry to designate my previously unguessed incapacity. As it was there were merely ordinary commuters and shoppers, though one of the strap-hangers, a man whom I spotted eyeing the erection which even the shortest journey on tube or bus always gives me, inclined to swing or jolt towards me as the train lost or gained speed, and the pressure of his knee on mine, and of his eyes in my lap, irritated me when what I wanted was the boy I could no longer see, and whom I dreaded getting off, unnoticed, at a stop before mine.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  THE FORTY-SIXTH CHAPTER How a certaine Matron fell in love with Apuleius, how hee had his pleasure with her, and what other things happened. When he had bought such things as was necessary, he would not returne home into his Countrey in Chariots, or waggon, neither would he ride upon Thessalian Horses, or Jenets of France, or Spanish Mules, which be most excellent as can be found, but caused me to be garnished and trimmed with trappers and barbs of Gold, with brave harnesse, with purple coverings, with a bridle of silver, with pictured cloths, and with shrilling bells, and in this manner he rode upon me lovingly, speaking and intreating me with gentle words, but above all things he did greatly rejoyce in that I was his Servant to beare him upon my backe, and his Companion to feed with him at the Table: After long time when we had travelled as well by Sea as Land, and fortuned to arrive at Corinth, the people of the Towne came about us on every side, not so much to doe honour to Thiasus, as to see me: For my fame was so greatly spread there, that I gained my master much money, and when the people was desirous to see me play prankes, they caused the Gates to be shut, and such as entered in should pay money, by meanes whereof I was a profitable companion to them every day: There fortuned to be amongst the Assembly a noble and rich Matron that conceived much delight to behold me, and could find no remedy to her passions and disordinate appetite, but continually desired to have her pleasure with me, as Pasiphae had with a Bull. In the end she promised a great reward to my keeper for the custody of me one night, who for gaine of a little money accorded to her desire, and when I had supped in a Parler with my Master, we departed away and went into our Chamber, where we found the faire Matron, who had tarried a great space for our comming: I am not able to recite unto you how all things were prepared: there were foure Eunuches that lay on a bed of downe on the ground with Boulsters accordingly for us to lye on, the Coverlet was of cloth of Gold, and the pillowes soft and tender, whereon the delicate Matron had accustomed to lay her head. Then the Eunuches not minding to delay any longer the pleasure of their Mistresse closed the doores of the Chamber and departed away: within the Chamber were Lamps that gave a cleare light all the place over: Then she put off all her Garments to her naked skinne, and taking the Lampe that stood next to her, began to annoint all her body with balme, and mine likewise, but especially my nose, which done, she kissed me, not as they accustome to doe at the stews, or in brothel houses, or in the Curtain Schools for gaine of money, but purely, sincerely, and with great affection, casting out these and like loving words: Thou art he whom I love, thou art he whom I onely desire, without thee I cannot live, and other like preamble of talke as women can use well enough, when as they mind to shew or declare their burning passions and great affection of love: Then she tooke me by the halter and cast me downe upon the bed, which was nothing strange unto me, considering that she was so beautifull a Matron and I so wel bolded out with wine, and perfumed with balme, whereby I was readily prepared for the purpose: But nothing grieved me so much as to think, how I should with my huge and great legs imbrace so faire a Matron, or how I should touch her fine, dainty, and silken skinne, with my hard hoofes, or how it was possible to kisse her soft, pretty and ruddy lips, with my monstrous mouth and stony teeth, or how she, who was young and tender, could be able to receive me.

• From Great Authors of the Western Literary Tradition (2004)

  125 Odysseus narrated his own adventures in Books IX–XII of the Odyssey, so in Books II–III, Aeneas tells his story. Aeneas’s description of the sack of Troy in Book II is the fullest extant account of the sack. In the Iliad, Poseidon mentions that Aeneas will fl ee Troy and found another city in the West. Virgil has to make sure that Aeneas’s fl ight does not appear to be disloyal or cowardly. Thus, Aeneas’s mother, the goddess Venus, instructs him to leave and shows him the gods fi ghting “behind the scenes.” Aeneas recapitulates Odysseus’s wanderings. He unknowingly follows in Odysseus’s steps and visits the same scenes. Aeneas’s encounter with Dido recapitulates the Odyssey in another way, because Aeneas’s destiny is threatened by his desire to stay with Dido. Aeneas’s journey to the underworld in Book VI mirrors Odysseus’s journey there. Aeneas consults the ghost of his father, Anchises, who shows him a vision of great Roman heroes to come. With Aeneas’s return from the underworld, the epic moves into its second half. Virgil described the second half of the Aeneid as a “greater work.” In Books VII–XII, Aeneas is embroiled in wars on Italian soil. The wars occur because Aeneas is destined to marry the Italian princess Lavinia; however, she is already engaged to a man named Turnus. The battles between the followers of Aeneas and those of Turnus continue through several subplots and introduce several important characters. Throughout this second half of the Aeneid, Virgil stresses both Aeneas’s pietas and the human cost of such wars. In the Aeneid, Aeneas’s destiny is threatened by his desire to stay with Dido.The Teaching Company Collection.

• From Great Authors of the Western Literary Tradition (2004)

  207 shall turn presently) are assigned to abstractions. We never have the sense that we meet real people. The story is not about anybody, or maybe, it is about everybody. Let us now try to summarize the remarkable poem of Guillaume and Jean before turning to some re fl ections on its sources, devices, themes, and meanings. We shall begin with Guillaume’s story. A young man—Lover— who is 20, just the right age for love, falls asleep in May, just the right time for love, and has a dream. The Romance of the Rose—“in which the entire art of love is contained”—is his account of that dream. Lover, the main character in the story, goes for a walk along a stream and comes upon a beautiful garden that is surrounded by a wall, on which 10 images are painted in gold and azure. They depict Hate, Cruelty, Baseness, Covetousness, Avarice, Envy, Sorrow, Old Age, Religious Hypocrisy, and Poverty. Lover looks and looks for an entrance to the garden and fi nds a small door, through which Idleness admits him. Lover fi nds a lovely band dancing and enjoying music. Idleness is the friend of Pleasure, who owns the garden and presides over the merriment. Many other characters are introduced. At the conclusion of the dance, the characters all go into the wood to disport themselves and Lover begins to explore the garden. Cupid follows him at a discreet distance. Lover comes upon the spring of Narcissus and sees two crystals in the pool. They each re fl ect half of the garden. Looking into one, Lover sees a refl ection of a rose garden, in the midst of which is one particularly beautiful Rose, which Lover wishes ardently to “pluck.” Cupid then unleashes fi ve arrows—Beauty, Simplicity, Courtesy, Company, and Fair Seeming—which wound Lover and intensify his desire for the Rose. Lover then becomes Cupid’s vassal and promises to serve him faithfully. Cupid hopes Lover will not betray him as so many have before. Lover asks Cupid for instruction on how he might serve faithfully. Cupid provides ample advice and tells him, above all, to fi x his thoughts on love, be prepared to bear all the torments of love, and understand that the object of his desires may be unattainable. Cupid departs and Lover contemplates entering among the Roses—“penetrating” them. Fair Welcome bids him enter. There is a detestable villain—Rebuff—guarding the Roses, and he is assisted by Evil Tongue, Shame, and Fear. Lover tells Fair Welcome that he must

• From Great Authors of the Western Literary Tradition (2004)

  378 Lecture 57: Samuel Johnson for the moral value of imagining ourselves in someone else’s shoes. Every life, argues Johnson, can be made into a useful narrative, because there are universal hopes, dangers, and desires in the life of every man. Johnson articulates a central Neoclassical belief: The universal aspects of man’s life are worth speaking about. On the other hand, we can see the beginning of the Romantic tendency to make the poet’s life the subject of literature. Let us take a look now at Johnson’s “Life of Pope.” The Lives of the Poets consists of more than 50 essays on male poets from 1660 to the 1770s. No living poets were included. Johnson begins his biography with a brief account of Pope’s background, followed by a consideration of Pope’s major works and their critical reception. Interspersed throughout the latter section are Johnson’s critical comments on Pope’s poetry. This method is, in fact, the model for all of Johnson’s literary biographies, and his focus, fi rst on the life, then on the work of the author, became the standard way of conducting literary criticism for the next 200 years. Johnson gives considerable space to examining Pope’s character—one he suggests that was formed by his painful deformities. The method Johnson follows in judging the value of Pope’s poetry is the same as his method for examining his life—he is not concerned with “slight faults or petty beauties” but, rather, with the “general character and effect of each performance.” Johnson acknowledges the universal praise for The Rape of the Lock and inquires into the sources of the pleasure the poem provides: The “new race of Beings,” says Johnson, is perfectly suited to making new things familiar and familiar things, new. Literary activity—writing, reading, judging—is, in the end for Johnson, a thoroughly social activity. No writer can write and teach without knowing the human and natural world, having a deep moral sense of both, and a desire to communicate that sense to the reader; no reader can judge without having some experience of the life that the writer imitates and a moral sensitivity that produces the right response to the imitation. ■ 379 Samuel Johnson, The Major Works. Walter Jackson Bate, Samuel Johnson: The Life of an Author. James Boswell, Life of Johnson. 1. In what ways do Samuel Johnson’s writings embody essential Neoclassical concepts? 2. How does Samuel Johnson shape his own age and provide a body of work against which Romantic artists rebelled? Supplementary Reading Questions to Consider Essential Reading

• From Great Authors of the Western Literary Tradition (2004)

  412 Biographical Notes (Lectures 49–60) Defoe concentrated on novels rather than pamphlets, publishing the highly successful Moll Flanders (1722) and Roxana (1724). Sister Juana Inés de la Cruz (1648–1695): Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz was a major literary and philosophical fi gure in 17th-century Mexico. In addition, she fervently advocated a woman’s right to education and the intellectual life. Born in 1648, Juana was the daughter of a Spanish gentleman and an illiterate mother and, early on, showed her insatiable desire for learning: Before she was 8, she could read and enjoy Plato, Aristophanes, and Erasmus. At the age of 13, she was presented at the Viceregal Court, the cultural center of the New World, and for the next three years, she wrote court verse in Castilian, Latin, and Nauhatl, the language of the Aztecs. At age 16, Juana decided to become a nun, and her cell soon became an academy, lined with books and fi lled with the instruments of music and mathematics. Juana learned to play several instruments, wrote a treatise on musical harmony, made a name as a miniaturist, and became profi cient in moral and dogmatic theology, medicine, canon law, astronomy, and advanced mathematics. Eventually, increasing pressure to address only religious matters forced her to sell her library and renounce writing. She died after nursing her sisters with the plague. Denis Diderot (1713–1784): Diderot was born in provincial Langres, the son of a master cutler. Diderot remained relatively obscure outside of his intellectual bohemian circle until his 30s. Early on, he made his living and reputation mostly as a translator. He published his fi rst original work, Pensées Philosophiques, in the same year (1746) that he was commissioned to translate Chambers’s Cyclopedia. Though he piloted the Encyclopedia project for 20 years, Diderot found time to write and publish proli fi cally on a range of subjects so broad that his collected writings can only be described as encyclopedic. Epistemology, the creative impulse, the dramatic arts, evolution, and materialistic determinism were topics he returned to again and again. Like other Enlightenment philosophers, he was constantly threatened with imprisonment or exile for his subversive writings. His fi rst three publications earned him three months’ con fi nement at Vincennes, and although there were more than 200 collaborators working on the Encyclopedia, Diderot was the chief writer and, therefore, bore the brunt of the Church and throne’s contempt. Like his famous contemporary Samuel