Fear

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 Fear of Flying (1973)

  The walls were old striped wallpaper, very splotched and discolored. I pulled my suitcase in and closed the door. I fiddled awhile with the lock before being able to work it. Finally, I sank down on the bed and began to cry. I was conscious of wanting to cry passionately and without restraint, of wanting to weep a whole ocean of tears and drown. But even my tears were blocked. There was a peculiar knot in my stomach which kept making me think of Bennett. It was almost as if my navel was attached to his so that I couldn’t even lose myself in tears without wondering and worrying about him. Where was he? Couldn’t I even cry properly until I found him? The strangest thing about crying (perhaps this is a carryover from infancy) is that we never can cry wholeheartedly without a listener—or at least a potential listener. We don’t let ourselves cry as desperately as we might. Maybe we’re afraid to sink under the surface of the tears for fear there will be no one to save us. Or maybe tears are a form of communication—like speech—and require a listener. You have to sleep, I told myself sternly. But already I could feel myself moving into a panic which recalled my worst childhood night terrors. I felt the center of myself slipping backward in time even as my adult, rational self protested. You are not a child, I said aloud, but the insane pounding of my heart continued. I was covered with cold sweat. I sat rooted to the bed. I knew I needed a bath, but would not take one because of my fear of leaving the room. I had to pee desperately, but was afraid to go out to the toilet. I did not even dare to take off my shoes (for fear the man under the bed would grab me by the foot). I did not dare wash my face (who knew what lurked behind the curtain?). I thought I saw a figure moving on the terrace outside the window. Phantom cars of light crossed the ceiling. A toilet flushed in the hall and I jumped. There were footsteps down the hall. I began to remember scenes from Murders in the Rue Morgue. I remembered some nameless movie I had seen on television at about the age of five. It showed a vampire who could fade in and out of walls. No locks could keep him out. I visualized him pulsating in and out of the dirty, splotched wallpaper. I appealed again to my adult self for help. I tried to be critical and rational. I knew what vampires stood for. I knew the man under the bed was partly my father. I thought of Groddeck’s Book of the It. The fear of the intruder is the wish for the intruder. I thought of all my sessions with Dr.

• From Fear of Flying (1973)

  Adrian, in fact, was born in the same year as Randy (1937) and also had a younger brother he’d spent years learning how to bully. We quickly picked up the threads of these old patterns of behavior as we made our way through the labyrinth of Old Europe. We came to know the meager Austrian pension with its white lace curtains in the parlor, its window-sill full of cactuses, its red-cheeked proprietress (who always asked how many children we had—as if she had forgotten what we told her double some kilometers back), its peculiar king-sized bed with a mattress divided into three horizontal parts (the valleys coming at strategic bodily landmarks—like the breasts and genitals—so that you invariably awoke in the middle of the night with one nipple, or one testicle I suppose, wedged between part I and part II or between part II and part III). We came to know the Austrian feather beds which drench you with sweat during the early hours of the night, slither to the floor by means of witchcraft just as you fall into a deeper sleep, cause you to spend the whole night retrieving them, and then finally awaken you with monstrously puffy lips and eyes from the centuries of old dust (and other more sinister allergens) trapped within them. We came to know pension breakfasts of cold hard rolls, factory-packaged tinlets of apricot jam, meager curls of butter, and gargantuan cups of café au lait with diseased-looking skins on top. We came to know the humbler sort of campsite, with its pervasive sewer smell, long tin trough for face-washing and tooth-brushing, stagnant mosquito-breeding swimming hole (where Adrian invariably swam), and jolly German citizens who made brilliant conversation about Adrian’s English pup tent (in whose electric-blue nylon glow we slept) and interrogated us about our lives like horribly experienced spies. We came to know the German Autobahn automats with their plates of sauerkraut and knockwurst, their blotting-paper coasters advertising beer, their foul-smelling pay toilets, their vending machines for soap and towels and condoms. We came to know the German beer gardens with sticky tables and middle-aged buxom waitresses in dirndls, and drunken truck drivers who made obscene remarks to me as I made my way unsteadily to the bathroom. We were usually drunk from noon on, careening down the Autobahn in a right-hand-drive car, taking wrong turns everywhere, being tailgated by Volkswagens going 80 miles an hour, by Mercedes Benzes blinking their headlights aggressively and doing 110, by BMWs trying to outrun the Mercedes- Benzes. All a German had to see were our English license plates and he was out to run us off the road. Adrian drove like a maniac, too, passing on the wrong side, weaving in and out of the truck lane, allowing himself to get riled by the Germans and trying to outrun them. There was part of me that was terrified by this, but another part of me which thrilled to it.

• From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

  mercenary soldiers, fighting on behalf of the Persian prince Darius in his attempt to take over the empire from the king, his brother, suddenly found themselves on the losing side of the battle, and now trapped deep in the heart of Persia. When the victorious Persians tricked the leaders of the mercenaries into coming to a meeting to discuss their fate and then executed them all, it became clear to the surviving soldiers that they would be either executed as well or sold into slavery by the next day. That night they wandered through their camp bemoaning their fate. Among them was the writer Xenophon, who had gone along with the soldiers as a kind of roving reporter. Xenophon had studied philosophy as a student of Socrates. He believed in the supremacy of rational thinking, of seeing the entire picture, the general idea behind the fleeting appearances of daily life. He had practiced such thinking skills over several years. That night he had a vision of how the Greeks could escape their trap and return home. He saw them moving swiftly and stealthily through Persia, sacrificing everything for speed. He saw them leaving right away, using the element of surprise to gain some distance. He thought ahead—of the terrain, the route to take, the many enemies they would face, how they could help and use citizens who revolted against the Persians. He saw them getting rid of their wagons, living off the land and moving quickly, even in winter. In the space of a few hours, he had conjured up the details of the retreat, all inspired by his overall vision of their fast zigzag route to the Mediterranean and home. Although he had no military experience, his vision was so complete, and he communicated it with such confidence, that the soldiers nominated him as their de facto leader. It took several years and involved many ensuing challenges, each time Xenophon applying his global vision to determine a strategy, but in the end, he proved the power of such rational thinking by leading them to safety despite the immense odds against them. This story embodies the essence of all authority and the most essential element in establishing it. Most people are locked in the moment. They are prone to overreacting and panicking, to seeing only a narrow part of the reality facing the group. They cannot entertain alternative ideas or prioritize. Those who maintain their presence of mind and elevate their perspective above the moment tap into the visionary powers of the human mind and cultivate that third eye for unseen forces and trends. They stand out from the group, fulfill the true function of leadership, and create the aura of authority by seeming to possess the godlike ability to read the future. And this is a power that can be practiced and developed and applied to any situation. As early in life as possible, you train yourself to disconnect from

• From The Boys of My Youth (1998)

  So when Brad makes a choking noise out in the kitchen all hell breaks loose here in the dining room. My mother leaps up, throwing the shirt one way and the fringe the other, Linda drops her pencil, Yimmer barks. Brad appears in the doorway, enormous-eyed. He points back to the kitchen with his spoon and then pushes past my mother into the living room where he turns and points again, then buries his shocked face in a sofa pillow. There’s something in the kitchen! The rest of us crowd through the doorway to see. Nothing. My mother screams. I look around wildly and then I see it. Through the glass of the back door, framed by my grandmother’s lace curtains, a face wearing a creature-feature mask. Black hair, forehead, two stunned eyes, and then the rest is blood. It looks like my dad. He fumbles for the doorknob but can’t see through the mask, his hand slips and he cries out, something slides from his mouth and lands on his shirtfront; a wad of blood. My mother springs forward, opens the door, and we get the full picture. His clothes are frozen to his body and over it all, shirt, sport coat, trousers, is dark blood, coming from his mouth. Some of it is frozen and some of it is fresh. He can’t move at all and when Linda and my mother try to pull him inside he groans and resists. We get him up over the threshold, my mother on one side, Linda and me on the other, and then try to sit him in a chair in the middle of the kitchen. His legs won’t bend. He groans again and then, with a noise like cracking ice, sits. My mother opens the oven door and turns it up to five hundred. She wants to look inside his mouth but he won’t let her, so she gets a clean dish towel, wets it under the faucet, and starts wiping the blood from his face while Linda and I try to remove his shoes. The laces are stiff but the shoes come off okay. When we peel the socks away, his feet look like long yellow boats. My mother gasps when she sees them, then hands each of us a towel and tells us to rub. When we do, he makes the groaning noise again so we stop. She resituates him so he’s closer to the oven, and then fills a dishpan with tepid water. When she sets his feet in it he makes a moaning sound. Still working on his face, she tells me to go to the phone. I do. She tells me the number to dial and what to say. My aunt answers. “It’s Jo,” I say. “Well, hi Jo,” she answers cheerfully. “My mom needs you right now,” I recite. There is no pause. She’s on her way. Twenty minutes. The oven is blasting heat out into the kitchen.

• From The History of Christianity II: From the Reformation to the Modern Megachurch (2017)

  239Lecture 24—Apocalyptic Faith in the 1800s and Beyond õSome evangelical writers began interpreting the bows and swords of scripture as metaphors for the latest developments in nuclear technology. They said the United Nations was a tool of the Antichrist, and that he would use these kinds of organizations to seek world dominion. õEvents in Israel and the conf licts of the Middle East have always been of interest to premillennialists. Recall that Darby preached that Jews would establish a sovereign nation in Palestine, only to suffer great persecution at the hands of world leaders, leaving a small number of survivors to accept Christ. õDarby’s followers got very excited in 1948 when the state of Israel was established, and they’ve followed Israeli affairs closely ever since. Israelis have been understandably ambivalent about this interest in their lives, but in general they’ve been savvy about reaching out to American evangelicals. AMERICAN POLITICS õWhat happens when we look for evidence for the role of prophecy in evangelical leaders’ political decisions? The evidence is unclear. Consider the Ronald Reagan presidency, when several administration officials were adherents of this theology. Reagan himself was very interested in prophecy. õIn 1983 he told an Israeli lobbyist: “You know, I turn back to your ancient prophets ... and the signs foretelling Armageddon, and I find myself wondering if we’re the generation that’s going to see that come about.” Yet he didn’t initiate nuclear war, nor did he go out of his way to befriend Israel. And we now know that Reagan wanted nuclear weapons eliminated. 240The History of Christianity II õBelief in the coming apocalypse may have encouraged evangelicals to accept nuclear confrontation as part of God’s plan, but very few wanted to help actually bring on Armageddon. Throughout the Cold War, it seems that a different religious fear—the fear of godless communism— united evangelicals and motivated their political action. SUGGESTED READING Boyer, When Time Shall Be No More. Pagels, Revelations. Rowe, God’s Strange Work. QUESTIONS TO CONSIDER äWhy have scripture’s references to the Apocalypse produced such a wide range of interpretation? äWhat explains the appeal of William Miller’s and John Nelson Darby’s messages to their followers? äHow have ideas about the end times inf luenced politics? 241 LECTURE 25 THE CHURCH AND THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION T he Russian Revolution of 1917 is a good candidate for the single most cataclysmic event in the history of religion in the 20 th century. When Vladimir Lenin’s Bolsheviks emerged victorious after several years of civil war, their communist propaganda claimed that almost overnight, Russia had gone from one of the most religious civilizations in the world to the atheist state of every Marxist’s dreams. But to understand what the revolution meant for Russian religion, this lecture first backtracks and explores the religious landscape generations earlier, then looks at the state of Russian religion after the revolution.

• From In an Unspoken Voice (2010)

  An example of this fixity follows: A woman loves nature, parks, meadows and grassy knolls; however, every time she smells new-mown grass she feels nauseated, anxious and dizzy. Her belief (M) is that grass is something to be avoided. The olfactory and visual image (I) is associated with, or coupled to, the sensations of nausea and dizziness (S) coming from her visceral and vestibular systems. This positive feedback loop, with negative consequences, is an enigma. Part of the event is disassociated from her awareness: she has no idea why this happens; she just knows that she has a strong dislike (M) of grass. As this woman explores her sensations and images, seeing and smelling cut grass in her mind’s eye, she takes time to explore her bodily sensations in detail. As she does, she has a new sensation of being spun in the air and held at the wrists and legs. Next she gets a tactile image of her bullying brother giving her an airplane spin on the front lawn of her childhood house when she was four or five years old. She feels scared (old A), but as she trembles and breathes, she realizes that she is no longer in danger. She now orients (B) by looking around at the peaceful office and then turning her head toward the open face of her therapist. Feeling intact with this newfound safety, she settles a bit. She experiences a spontaneous breath (new B), feeling secure in her belly (new S) now. Then she notices some tightness around her wrists (old S) and the impulse to pry her wrists loose (new S). Now, she feels a wave of anger (new A) building up inside as she yells “Stop!” using the motor muscles of her vocal cords (new B). She settles again and feels (new I) the tactile pleasure of lying on the soft new-mown grass in the warmth of the springtime sunshine. Fresh grass is no longer associated with unpleasant sensations (old M); green, freshly groomed grass is good, parks are wonderful places and “all is well” (new M). She no longer feels nauseated or anxious again in that situation. The simple example above shows us how the elements of this biological model fit together to create a web of either fixity or flow. In nature, when one feels an internal sensation, frequently an image appears simultaneously or shortly afterward. If a client is bothered by an image, a sensation may accompany it that he is not aware of. When, with the therapist’s guidance, the client becomes conscious of both elements, a behavior, affect or new meaning generally follows.

• From In the Dream House (2019)

  You wake up and the air is milky and bright. The room glows with a kind of effervescent contentment, despite the boxes and clothes and dishes. You think to yourself: this is the kind of morning you could get used to. When you turn over, she is staring at you. The luminous innocence of the light curdles in your stomach. You don’t remember ever going from awake to afraid so quickly. “You were moving all night,” she says. “Your arms and elbows touched me. You kept me awake.” If you apologize profusely, go to this page. If you tell her to wake you up next time your elbows touch her in your sleep, go to this page. If you toss back the blankets from your body and hit the floor with both your feet and tear through the house like it’s Pamplona, and when you get to the driveway your car keys are already in your hand and you drive away with a theatrical squeal of the tires, never to return again, go to this page. That’s not how it happened, but okay. We can pretend. I’ll give it to you, just this once. Turn to this page. Dream House as L’appel du Vide In the pit of it, you fantasize about dying. Tripping on a sidewalk and stumbling into the path of an oncoming car. A gas leak silently offing you in your sleep. A machete-wielding madman on public transit. Falling down the stairs, but drunk, so you flop limb over limb like a marionette and feel no pain. Anything to make it stop. You have forgotten that leaving is an option. Dream House as Libretto My middle school music teacher showed a film version of Carmen to the class, the really famous one with Julia Migenes where she keeps hiking up her skirt during the Habanera. He was probably just trying to give you all a bit of culture, but all my classmates took away from the screening and the ensuing discussion was that Carmen was a prostitute who didn’t shave under her arms, and by extension, by thirteen- year-old logic, I must also be a prostitute who doesn’t shave under her arms. They asked me about both of these things over and over again. Already smarting after a decade of Carmen Sandiego jokes, I was ready to abandon my name altogether. When Carmen sings, she tells the men who surround her that love is a fickle thing, and they need to beware. Don José gives himself over to her, loses himself in her. When she leaves at the end, he begs her not to go. She tells him that she was born free and she will die free. Then he stabs her, and she dies. Confessing his crime to the gathering crowd, he throws his body on Carmen’s corpse and howls, “Ah, Carmen! Carmen, my adored one!” As though he hadn’t just killed her with his own hands.

• From Fear of Flying (1973)

  We endured the afternoon together with Johann Sebastian Bach. “Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast” quoth Congreve (who surely is in heaven playing cards with Mozart). When I think of all the bad times that Bach has helped me get through I’m sure he’s in heaven too. Dr. Steven Pearlmutter walked in at five—all apologies and sweaty palms. From then on our life was in the hands of the doctors and their smug little categories. My husband, Brian, Dr. Pearlmutter assured me, was “a very sick young man.” He was going to “try to help him.” He began by trying to give him a shot of Thorazine—at which point Brian bolted and ran down the back stairs (all thirteen floors) and into Riverside Park. The doctor and I chased him, found him, stopped him, cajoled him, watched him bolt again, chased him again, cajoled him again and so on. The rest of the details are as sordid as they are common. From then on hospitalization became inevitable. Brian was now completely panicked and his delusions became more and more colorful. The days that followed were nightmarish. Brian’s parents flew in from California and promptly declared that Brian was perfectly OK but that I was crazy. They tried to prevent him from taking any medication and they constantly made fun of the doctors (which, admittedly, wasn’t very hard to do). They urged him to leave me and come home to California—as if being away from me would automatically make him all better. Dr. Pearlmutter had referred Brian to a psychiatrist who tried for five gallant days to keep him out of the hospital. It was no use. Between Brian’s mother and father, Brian’s boss, the Miracle Foam people, Brian’s well-meaning former professors and the doctors, our lives were no longer our own. Brian was hounded by his would-be caretakers and each day he flipped out more. On the fifth morning after Dr. Pearlmutter’s visit, Brian took all his clothes off near Belvedere Tower in Central Park. Then he tried to climb on King Jagiello’s bronze horse along with bronze King Jagiello (crossed swords and all). The police finally took him to the psycho ward at Mount Sinai (sirens screaming, Thorazine flowing like wine), and except for a few weekend passes, we never lived together again. It took another eight months or so for our marriage to sputter out completely. After Brian got to Mount Sinai, his parents moved in with me, denounced me day and night, went to the hospital with me every evening, and never allowed us more than ten minutes alone together. Visiting hour was only from six to seven anyway, and they were determined to keep us apart even then. Besides, when I was alone with Brian, all he did was attack me. I was a Judas, he said. How could I have locked him up?

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  me, with lifting + my head if I would: not anything, but bowing it if I would; and if I did lack drink, I should look still upon the minister of drink, winking first with one eye and then with the other. All which things I did willingly bring to pass, and obeyed his doctrine; howbeit I could have done all these things without his teaching, but I feared greatly lest in shewing myself cunning to do all like a man, without a.master, I. should portend some great and. strange wonder, and. as a prodigy thereby be slain and thrown out to wild vultures. But my fame was spread about in every place, and the qualities which I could do, in so much that my master was renowned throughout all: the country by reason of me. For every man would: say: “Behold the gentleman that hath an ass that will eat and drink with him, an. ass that will box, an ass that will dance, an. ass that understandeth what is said to him and will shew. his fantasy by signs." But first I will tell you (which I should have done before) who my master was, and. of what country. His name was Thiasus; he was born at Corinth, which. is the principal town of all the province of Achaea; he had. passed all offices of honour in. due course according as his birth and dignity required, and he should now take upon him the degree Quin- quennial?: and now to shew his worthiness to enter upon that office, and to purchase the benevolence of every person, he appointed and promised publie joys and. triumphs of gladiators, to endure the space of three days. To bring his endeavour for the publie i The single toss of the head backwards, which is still the regular gesture of refusal in Italy. 2 The quinquennial magistracy, or chief office of provincial towns. 505 19 LUCIUS APULEIUS studio tune Thessaliam etiam accesserat, nobilis- simas feras et famosos inde gladiatores comparaturus, iamque ex arbitrio dispositis coemptisque omnibus domuitionem parabat. Spretis luculentis illis suis vehi- culis ac posthabitis decoris raedarum carpentis, quae partim contecta, partim revelata, frustra novissimis trahebantur consequiis, equis etiam Thessalicis et aliis iumentis Gallicanis quibus generosa suboles perhibet pretiosam dignitatem, me phaleris aureis et fucatis ephippiis et purpureis tapetis et frenis argenteis et pictilibus balteis et tintinnabulis perargutis exor- natum ipse residens amantissime nonnunquam comis- simis affatur sermonibus, atque inter alia pleraque summe se delectari profitebatur quod haberet in me simul et convivam et vectorem. At ubi partimterrestri, partim maritimo itinere confecto Corinthum accessi- mus, magnae civium turbae confluebant, ut mihi vide- batur, non tantum Thiasi dantes honori quam mei con- spectus cupientes: nam tanta etiam ibidem de me fama pervaserat, ut non mediocri quaestui praeposito ilii meo fuerim. Qui cum multos videret nimio favore lusus meos spectare gestientes, obserata fore atque singulis eorum seorsus admissis, stipes ac- ceptans non parvas summulas diurnas corradere consuerat.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  us was committed, that drove me, poor ass, and the other horses in a herd to the water to drink, and the time was then come ; then had I good occasion ministered to my revenge, for as I passed by I per- ceived the fingers of the young man in the narrow space under the side of the bin, and lifting up my heels I spurned the flesh thereof with the force of my hoofs, and crushed them small, where by the great pain thereof he was compelled to cry out, and to throw down the bin on the ground, and so the whoredom of the baker’s wife was known and revealed. ‘The baker, seeing this, was little moved at the dishonesty of his wife, but he took the young man, pale and trembling for fear, by the hand, and with cold and courteous words spake in this sort: “ Fear not any trouble from me, my son, nor think that I am so barbarous or cruel or rustical a person that I would stifle thee with the smoke of sulphur, as our neigh- bour the fuller accustometh, nor will I punish thee accord to the rigour of the Julian law, which com- mandeth that adulterers should be put to death. No, no, I will not execute any cruelty against so fair and comely a young man as you be, but we will divide our pleasure: between us; I will not sue thee for a division of our inheri- tance, but we will be equal partners by the sharing all three of one bed. For never hath there been any debate mor dissension between me and my wife, but both of us may be contented, for I have always lived with her in such tranquillity that according to the saying of the wise men, the one hath said, that the other holdeth for law; but indeed equity will not suffer but that the husband should bear more authority than the wife.” With these and like smooth and jesting words he 443 LUCIUS APULEIUS

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  they were familiarly whispering together, a lad came running into the parlour, all trembling and fearful in his countenance, and declared to the master of the house that a mad dog had run in from the next lane and had rushed furiously into the back gate; which had done much harm, for he had bitten many grey- hounds and thence had entered the stable and had with like savagery attacked most of the beasts; nor finally had he spared men, for there was one Myrtilus a muleteer, Hephaestion a cook, Hypatarius a cham- berlain, and Apollonius a physician, nay many more, who (thinking to chase away the mad dog) were cruelly bitten by him ; and, indeed, many horses and other beasts had been infected with the venom of his poisonous teeth and become mad likewise. This thing caused them all at the table greatly to fear, and thinking that I had been made mad by being bitten and was mad in like sort, they snatched up all manner of weapons and came out exhorting one another so to keep off the common destruction of all, themselves rather a prey to the same disease of madness. Verily, with their spears, clubs, and pitch- forks, which their servants easily found for them, they had torn me limb from limb, had I not by and by observed the storm of sudden danger and crept into a chamber, where my masters intended to lodge that night. Then they closed and locked fast the doors about me, and kept the chamber round, till such time as they thought that they would not have to meet me in battle and the pestilent rage of madness should have killed me. Now when I was thus shut in the chamber, I had at last gained my liberty, and taking the gift that fortune had sent me, to be alone, I laid me down upon the bed to sleep, considering it was 403 LUCIUS APULEIUS lectum abiectus post multum equidem temporis som- num humanum quievi.

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  « « This woman had a certain lover whom, by the utterance of one only word, she turned into a beaver because he loved another woman beside her, and the reason why she transformed him into such a beast, is that it is his nature, when he perceives the hunters and hounds to draw after him, to bite off his members and lay them in the way, that the pursuers may be at a stop when they find them, and to the intent that soit might happen unto him (because he fancied another woman) she turned him into that kind of shape. Likewise she changed one of her neighbours, being an old man and one that sold wine, in that he was a rival of her occupation, into a frog, and now the poor wretch swimming in one of his own pipes of wine, and being well nigh drowned in the dregs, doth ery and call with croakings continually for his old guests and acquaintance that pass by. Likewise she turned one of the advocates of the Court (because he pleaded and spake against her) into a horned ram, and now the poor ram doth act advocate. Moreover she caused the wife of a certain lover that she had, because she spake sharply and wittily against her, should never be delivered of her child, but should remain, her womb closed up, everlastingly pregnant, and according to the computation of all B 17 LUCIUS APULEIUS damnavit et, ut cuncti numerant, iam octo annorum onere misella illa velut elephantum paritura dis- 10 tenditur. Quae cum subinde ac multis noceret, publicitus indignatio percrebruit, statutumque ut in eam die altera severissime saxorum iaculationibus vindicaretur: quod consilium virtutibus cantionum antevortit et, ut illa Medea unius dieculae a Creone impetratis induciis totam eius domum filiamque cum ipso sene flammis coronalibus deusserat, sic haec devotionibus sepulchralibus in scrobem procuratis, ut mihi temulenta narravit proxime, cunctos in suis sibi domibus tacita numinum violentia clausit, ut toto biduo non claustra perfringi, non fores evelli, non denique parietes ipsi quiverint perforari, quoad mutua hortatione consone clamitarent, quam sanc- tissime deierantes sese neque ei manus admolituros, et si quis aliud cogitarit, salutare laturos subsidium : et sic illa propitiata totam civitatem absoluit, At vero coetus iliius auctorem nocte intempesta cum tota domo, id est parietibus et ipso solo et omni fundamento, ut erat, clausa ad centesimum lapidem in aliam civitatem summo vertice montis exasperati sitam, et ob id ad aquas sterilem, transtulit. Et quoniam densa inhabitantium aedificia locum novo hospiti non dabant, ante portam proiectà domo 18 i THE GOLDEN ASS, BOOK I

• From How Emotions Are Made: The Secret Life of the Brain (2017)

  Opioids increase during placebo and turn down nociception, and likewise decrease during nocebo effects, earning them the moniker of “your internal medicine cabinet.” 18 I watched my daughter experience the nocebo effect when she was a baby and had thirteen ear infections in nine months. The first time we visited the pediatrician’s office for treatment, she wailed in discomfort as he peered into her ears (though he is a caring and careful physician). The second time, she cried in the waiting room. The third time, she began sobbing in the building lobby, and the fourth time, as we entered the parking garage. After that, she would whimper anytime we passed the street where the doctor’s office was located. This is the predicting brain in action; little Sophia was likely simulating ear pain. It took many months, after Sophia was past the infections and well into toddlerhood, for her to stop asking, “Go to dottor? Kekk Sophie’s ears?” whenever we were in the vicinity. Pain, like emotion and stress, appears to be a whole-brain construction. It involves our familiar pair of networks, the interoceptive and control networks. And the similarities don’t stop here. The pathways sending nociceptive predictions down to the body, and those bringing nociceptive input up to the brain, are closely related to interoception. (It’s even possible that nociception is a form of interoception.) Overall, the body sensations that are categorized as pain, stress, and emotions are fundamentally the same, even at the level of neurons in the brain and spinal cord. * Distinguishing between pain, stress, and emotion is a form of emotional granularity. 19 It’s easy to show that interoception and nociception are in bed with each other. If I made you feel unpleasant affect in my lab while applying painful heat to your arm, you’d report feeling more pain. This happens because your body-budgeting regions issue predictions that can dial pain up and down like a volume control. Those predictions can influence your brain’s simulation of pain, and they also reach down to your body and can amplify or dampen its status reports to your brain. Your body-budgeting regions can therefore trick your brain into believing that there is tissue damage, regardless of what is happening in your body. So, when you’re feeling unpleasant, your joints and muscles might hurt more, or you could develop a stomachache. When your body budget’s not in shape, meaning your interoceptive predictions are miscalibrated, your back might hurt more, or your headache might pound harder— not because you have tissue damage but because your nerves are talking back and forth. This is not imaginary pain. It is real. 20 When people experience ongoing pain without any damage to their body tissue, it’s called chronic pain.

• From How Emotions Are Made: The Secret Life of the Brain (2017)

  Perhaps your goal is to feel accepted, to feel pleasure, to achieve an ambition, or to find meaning in life. Your concept of “Happiness” in the moment is centered on such a goal, binding together the diverse instances from your past. Let’s unpack an example. Suppose that you are in an airport waiting for your close friend to arrive for a visit, her first one in a long time. As you stare at the exit gates and await her imminent arrival, your brain is busily issuing thousands of predictions based on your concepts, in milliseconds, all outside of your awareness. After all, there are a host of different emotions you might experience in such a situation. You could experience the happiness of seeing your friend, the anticipation that she’s about to appear, the fear that she won’t arrive, or worry that you might no longer have anything in common. You could also have a non-emotional experience, like the exhaustion of your long drive to the airport, or the perception of tightness in your chest as a symptom that you’re coming down with a cold. Using this storm of predictions, your brain makes meaning of sensations based on your past experiences with airports and friends and illnesses and related situations. Your brain weighs its predictions based on probabilities; they compete to explain what caused your sensations, and they determine what you perceive, how you act, and what you feel in this situation. Ultimately, the most probable predictions become your perception: say, you are happy and your friend is walking through the gates right now. Not every instance of “Happiness” from your past matches the present situation, because “Happiness” is a goal-based concept composed of wildly diverse instances, but some of them had bits and pieces that matched well enough to win the competition. Do these predictions match the actual sensory input from the world and your body? Or is there prediction error that must be resolved? That’s a matter for your prediction loops to work out and, if necessary, to correct. Let’s suppose your friend arrived safely, and later over coffee, she describes her turbulent plane flight that scared her out of her wits. She constructs an instance of “Fear” with the goal of communicating what it feels like to be strapped into the airplane seat, eyes closed, hot and queasy as the plane bumped up and down, her mind racing about her safety. When she says the word “frightened,” you also construct an instance of “Fear,” but it needn’t have exactly the same physical features as hers; you probably won’t squeeze your eyes shut, for example. Yet you can still perceive her fear and feel empathy for her. As long as your instances concern the same goal (detecting danger) in the same situation (a turbulent airplane ride), you and your friend are communicating clearly enough.

• From My Year of Rest and Relaxation (2018)

  towel under me to slow my fall, and then more wildly because that hadn’t worked, tumbling like Alice down the rabbit hole or like Elsa Schneider disappearing down into the infinite abyss in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. The gray mist obscured my vision. Had I crossed the seal? Was the world crumbling? Calm, calm, I told myself. I could feel gravity sucking me deeper, time accelerating, the darkness around me, widening until I was somewhere else, somewhere with no horizon, an area of space that awed me in its foreverness, and I felt calm for just a moment. Then I recognized that I was floating without a tether. I tried to scream but I couldn’t. I was afraid. The fear felt like desire: suddenly I wanted to go back and be in all the places I’d ever been, every street I’d walked down, every room I’d sat down in. I wanted to see it all again. I tried to remember my life, flipping through Polaroids in my mind. “It was so pretty there. It was interesting!” But I knew that even if I could go back, if such a thing were possible with exactitude, in life or in dreams, there was really no point. And then I felt desperately lonely. So I stuck my arm out and I grasped onto someone—maybe it was Ping Xi, maybe it was a wakefulness outside myself—and that other hand steadied me somehow as I fell past whole galaxies, mercurial waves of light strobing through my body, blinding me over and over, my brain throbbing from the pressure, my eyes leaking as though each teardrop shed a vision of my past. I felt the wetness trickle down my neck. I was crying. I knew that. I could hear myself gasp and whimper. I focused on the sound and then the universe narrowed into a fine line, and that felt better because there was a clearer trajectory, so I traveled more peacefully through outer space, listening to the rhythm of my respiration, each breath an echo of the breath before, softer and softer, until I was far enough away that there was no sound, there was no movement. There was no need for reassurance or directionality because I was nowhere, doing nothing. I was nothing. I was gone. • • • ON JUNE 1, 2001, I came to in a cross-legged seated position on the living room floor. Sunlight was needling through the blinds, illuminating crisscrossed planes of yellow dust that blurred and waned as I squinted. I heard a bird chirp. I was alive. • • •

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  * Now I also ate part of the same with him: and while I beheld him eating greedily, I perceived that he wore thin and meagre and pale as boxwood, and that his lively colour faded away, as did mine also, remembering those terrible furies of whom I lately dreamed, in so much that the first morsel of bread that I put in my mouth (which was but very small) did so stick in my jaws that I could neither swallow it down nor yet yield it up; and moreover the number of them that passed by increased my fear, for who is he, that would believe that one of two companiohs die in the high way without injury done by the other? But when that Socrates had eaten sufficiently he wore very thirsty, for indeed he had well nigh devoured a whole good cheese, and behold there was behind the roots of the plane-tree a pleasant running water which went gently like to a quiet pond, as clear as silver or crystal, and I said unto him: ‘Come hither, Socrates, to this water and drink thy fill as it were milk. And then he rose, and waiting a little he found a flat space by the river and kneeled down by the side of the bank in e 33 LUCIUS APULEIUS poculum : necdum satis extremis labiis summum aquae rorem attigerat, et iugulo eius vulnus dehiscit in profundum patorem, et illa spongia de eo repente devolvitur eamque parvus admodum comitatur cruor: denique corpus exanimatum in flumen paene cernuat, nisi ego altero eius pede retento vix et aegre ad ripam superiorem attraxi, ubi defletum pro tempore comitem misellum arenosa humo in ammis vicinia sempiterna contexi. Ipse trepidus et eximie metuens mihi per diversas et avias solitudines aufugi et quasi conscius mihi caedis humanae relicta patria et Lare ultroneum exilium amplexus nune Aetoliam novo contracto matrimonio colo." 20 Haec Aristomenes. At ille comes eius, qui statim initio obstinata incredulitate sermonem eius respuebat, * Nihil" inquit * Hae fabula fabulosius, nihil isto mendacio absurdius," et ad me conversus * Tu autem " inquit “Vir, ut habitus et habitudo demonstrat, ornatus, accredis! huie fabulae?" “Ego vero" inquam * Nihil impossibile arbitror, sed uteumque fata decreverint, ita cuncta mortalibus provenire: nam et mihi et tibi et cunctis hominibus multa usu venire mira et paene infecta, quae tamen ignaro relata fidem perdant. Sed ego huie et credo Hercule et gratas gratias memini, quod lepidae fabulae festivi- tate nos avocavit ; asperam denique ac prolixam viam sine labore ac taedio evasi. Quod beneficium etiam illum vectorem meum credo laetari: sine fatigatione 1 So Petschenig for the MSS’ accedis. 34 THE GOLDEN ASS, BOOK I

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  whom she employeth all her sorcery and enchant- ment ; and I heard her threaten with mine own ears yesternight, that because the sun had not then . presently gone down and the night come to minister convenient time to work her magical enticement, she would veil the same sun with a thick shadow of cloud and bring perpetual darkness over all the world. And you shall know that when she saw yesternight this Boeotian sitting at the barber's, when she came from the baths, she secretly commanded me to gather some of the hair of his head which lay dis- persed upon the ground, and to bring it home; which when I thought to have done, gathering it up secretly with care, the barber espied me, and by reason it was bruited throughout all the city that we were witches and enchantresses, he seized upon me and cried out, and chid me, saying: ‘ Will you never leave off stealing of handsome young men's hairs? In faith I assure you, unless you cease your wicked sorceries, I will complain to the justices.’ Wherewithal he came angrily towards me and took away the hair which I bad gathered out of mine apron, which grieved me very much. For I knew my mistress's manners, that she would not be con- tented, but beat me cruelly. Wherefore I intended to run away, but the remembrance of you put always that thought out of my mind, and so I came homeward very sorrowful ; but because I would not seem to come in my mistress’s sight with empty hands, I saw a man shearing of blown goat-skins. Now these were well tied up and blown out, and were hanging up, and the hair he had shorn off was yellow, and much resembled 125 LUCIUS APULEIUS illi Boeotio iuveni consimiles, plusculos aufero eosque dominae meae dissimulata veritate trado. * Sic noctis initio, priusquam cena te reciperes, Pamphile mea iam vecors animi tectam scandulare : conscendit, quod altrinsecus aedium patore perflabili nudatum ad omnes, orientales ceterosque, aspectus pervium, maxime his artibus suis commodatum, Secreto colit, priusque apparatu solito — instruit feralem officinam, omne genus aromatis, et ignora- biliter. laminis litteratis et infelicium avium duran- tibus damnis, defletorum sepultorum etiam cadaverum expositis multis admodum membris: hie nares et digiti, illic carnosi clavi pendentium, alibi trucidat- orum servatus eruor et extorta dentibus ferarum

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  When we had passed over a great mountain full of trees and were come again into the open fields, behold we approached nigh to a fair and rich castle, where it was told unto us that we were not able to pass in our journey that night, nay, nor in the early morning either, by reason of the great number of terrible wolves which were in the country about, besieging all the roads; so great in their body and fierce and cruel, that they put every. man in fear, in 2A 369 LUCIUS APULEIUS assuetos infestare cunctam illam regionem, iamque ipsas vias obsidere et in modum latronum praeter- euntes aggredi, immo etiam vesana fame rabidos finitimas expugnare villas exitiumque inertissimorum pecudum ipsis iam humanis capitibus imminere. Denique ob iter illud, qua nobis erat commeandum, iacere semesa hominum corpora suisque visceribus nudatis ossibus cuncta candere ac per hoc nos quo- que summa cautione viae reddi debere idque vel in primis observitare, ut luce elara et die iam pro- vecto et sole florido, vitantes undique latentes in- sidias, cum et ipso lumine dirarum bestiarum repi- gratur impetus, non laciniatim disperso sed cuneatim stipato commeatu difficultates illas transabiremus. 16 Sed nequissimi fugitivi ductores illi nostri caecae festinationis temeritate ac metu incertae insecutionis, spreta salubri monitione nec expectata luce proxuma, circa tertiam ferme vigiliam noctis onustos nos ad viam propellunt. Tune ego metu praedicti periculi quantum pote turbae medius et inter conferta iu- menta latenter absconditus clunibus meis ab ag- gressionibus ferinis consulebam, iamque me cursu celeri ceteros equos antecellentem mirabantur omnes ; sed illa pernicitas non erat alacritatis meae sed for- midinis indicium. Denique mecum ipse reputabam, Pegasum inclutum illum metu. magis volaticum fuisse ac per hoc merito pinnatum proditum, dum in altum. et adusque caelum sussilit ac resultat, 370 . age THE GOLDEN ASS, BOOK VIII

• From The Golden Ass (Metamorphoses) (2)

  31 . Hic ego me potissimum capitis periclitatum me- mini Nam quidam colonus partem venationis, im- manis cervi pinguissimum femus, domino illi suo muneri miserat, quod incuriose pone culinae fores non altiuscule suspensum canis adaeque venaticus latenter invaserat, laetusque praeda propere custo- dientes oculos evaserat. Quo damno cognito suaque reprehensa neglegentia cocus diu lamentatus lacrimis ineflicacibus, iam iamque domino cenam flagitante maerens et utcunque metuens altius, filio suo par- vulo consalutato arreptoque funiculo, mortem sibi nexu laquei comparabat. Nec tamen latuit fidam uxorem eius casus extremus mariti, sed funestum no- dum violenter invadens manibus ambabus ** Adeone ” inquit * Praesenti malo perterritus mente excidisti tua, nee fortuitum istud remedium, quod deum pro- videntia subministrat, intueris? Nam si quid in ultimo fortunae turbine resipiscis, expergite mi aus- culta et advenam istum asinum remoto quodam loco deductum iugula, femusque eius ad similitudinem 396 THE GOLDEN ASS, BOOK VIII driving me before them with their naked swords till they came to a noble city. There the principal patron, who was in every way a man very religious, and especially bearing high reverence unto the goddess, came in great devotion to meet us when he heard our tinkling cymbals and tapping drums and the soft strain of the Phrygian music, and re- ceived her and all our company as a pious host into his great house, and he hastened with mach sacrifice and veneration to appease her godhead. But there, I remember, I thought myself in most danger of all my life; forthere was one that brought venison to the master of the house, a side of a fat buck, for a present; which being hanged carelessly behind the kitchen door, not far from the ground, was clean eaten up by a hunting greyhound that came in, who, joyful to have gotten his prey, escaped the eyes of them that watched. The cook, when he saw the venison devoured, reproving his own negli- gence, lamented and wept to no purpose, and because supper-time approached nigh, when his master should now call for the meat, he sorrowed and feared greatly ; and bidding farewell to his little child, he took a halter to hang himself; but his good. wife, percciving whereabout he went, ran incontinently to him, and taking the deadly halter in both her hands stopped him of his purpose, saying: * O husband, are you out of your wits with this present trouble? What intend you to do? See you not a chance remedy before your eyes ministered unto you by divine providence? I pray you, husband, if you have any sense left in this storm of fortune, listen attentively to my counsel : carry this strange ass out into some secret place and kill him ; which done, cut off one of his sides, and sauce it well like the side of the buck, 397 LUCIUS APULEIUS

• From The Annotated Lolita (1991)

  Was she just joking? An ominous hysterical note rang through her silly words. Presently, making a sizzling sound with her lips, she started complaining of pains, said she could not sit, said I had torn something inside her. The sweat rolled down my neck, and we almost ran over some little animal or other that was crossing the road with tail erect, and again my vile-tempered companion called me an ugly name. When we stopped at the filling station, she scrambled out without a word and was a long time away. Slowly, lovingly, an elderly friend with a broken nose wiped my windshield—they do it differently at every place, from chamois cloth to soapy brush, this fellow used a pink sponge. She appeared at last. “Look,” she said in that neutral voice that hurt me so, “give me some dimes and nickels. I want to call mother in that hospital. What’s the number?” “Get in,” I said. “You can’t call that number.” “Why?” “Get in and slam the door.” She got in and slammed the door. The old garage man beamed at her. I swung onto the highway. “Why can’t I call my mother if I want to?” “Because,” I answered, “your mother is dead.” 33In the gay town of Lepingville I bought her four books of comics, a box of candy, a box of sanitary pads, two cokes, a manicure set, a travel clock with a luminous dial, a ring with a real topaz, a tennis racket, roller skates with white high shoes, field glasses, a portable radio set, chewing gum, a transparent raincoat, sunglasses, some more garments—swooners, shorts, all kinds of summer frocks. At the hotel we had separate rooms, but in the middle of the night she came sobbing into mine, and we made it up very gently. You see, she had absolutely nowhere else to go. Part Two1It was then that began our extensive travels all over the States. To any other type of tourist accommodation I soon grew to prefer the Functional Motel—clean, neat, safe nooks, ideal places for sleep, argument, reconciliation, insatiable illicit love. At first, in my dread of arousing suspicion, I would eagerly pay for both sections of one double unit, each containing a double bed. I wondered what type of foursome this arrangement was ever intended for, since only a pharisaic parody of privacy could be attained by means of the incomplete partition dividing the cabin or room into two communicating love nests. By and by, the very possibilities that such honest promiscuity suggested (two young couples merrily swapping mates or a child shamming sleep to earwitness primal sonorities) made me bolder, and every now and then I would take a bed-and-cot or twinbed cabin, a prison cell of paradise, with yellow window shades pulled down to create a morning illusion of Venice and sunshine when actually it was Pennsylvania and rain.