Jealousy
Jealousy is the heat that rises at the prospect of losing a held bond to a third party — the stomach dropping, the attention fixing on the rival, the mind running the same scene again and again. It is a triangle by definition: self, beloved, and the one who threatens to take the beloved's regard. Vela reads jealousy as a primary emotion, distinct from the envy it is so often confused with, and follows the writers who have refused to make it merely shameful.
Working definition · Possessive heat at the prospect of losing a held bond to a third party.
935 passages · in 1 cluster
Vela’s read on this emotion
Jealousy is the emotion most people are most ashamed to admit, and that shame is the first thing the reading sets aside. Jealousy is not a character flaw to be hidden; it is the body's report that a bond it depends on feels threatened, and the writers worth following have read it as testimony about attachment rather than as evidence of smallness.
The reading is densest in the literature of love and its triangles. The fiction that turns on a third party — the novel of the affair, the marriage with a rival in it — reads jealousy as a structural feature of attachment rather than a moral failure. The erotic canon Vela reads holds jealousy honestly, as one of the weathers that desire moves through rather than something desire is supposed to be above. The contemplative inheritance carries its own register: the Hebrew scriptures name a jealous God, and the reading follows that strange, load-bearing metaphor — possessiveness as a sign of covenant rather than of weakness.
Jealousy is not the same as envy, possessiveness, or insecurity. Envy wants what another has and the self lacks; jealousy fears losing what the self already holds. Possessiveness is jealousy hardened into a claim of ownership; jealousy at its most honest knows it cannot own the beloved at all. Insecurity is the soil jealousy grows in but is not the feeling itself. The four are kin and the reading keeps them apart, because envy and jealousy face in opposite directions — toward what is missing and toward what might be lost.
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An essay on how this word lives in language, in the tagged corpus, and in figurative art when curators pair passage with image — not a list of stages, not permission to feel.
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935 tagged passages
From Heptaméron (1559)
If he really believed the lady, which is not probable, since he was so wary and so bold that few or no men of his age and time surpassed him, whereof his glorious death is good evidence, it strikes me that one cannot help admitting that gallant men who are in love are often the dupes of ladies from excess of credulity.* " In faith," said Ennasuite, " I applaud the lady for what she did ; for when a man loves a lady and quits her for another, she can never revenge herself too much." * The Bibliophiles Francais surmise that the Queen of Navarre has made herself the heroine of this novel. The doctrines she has several times laid down in her epilogues respecting love and the relations of courtesy between the sexes, are quite in harmony with what she there says respecting the serviteti?'s whom a lady may entertain without giving her husband any reason for suspicion. Nothing can be conjectured as to the name of the gallant on whom the trick was played. In the following novel Margaret returns to the same subject, and relates how the same lady contrived to convict her husband of in- fidelity, and force him to take her to court, from which he had re- moved her through jealousy. If we compare this with what is known of Margaret's married life, the conjecture of her last editors appears so much the more plausible. 30 466 THE HEPTAMERON OF THE N(n'el 59. "True, if she is loved," said Parlamente ; "but some there are who love without making sure they are loved ; and when they perceive that their gallants love else- where, they accuse them of inconstancy. But women of discretion never suffer themselves to be thus de- ceived. They pay no heed to anything but the truth, for fear of being exposed to the irksome consequences of falsehood ; for the true and the false talk the same language." " If all women were of your way of thinking," said Simontault, "men might box up their supplications. But for all that you and others like you can say, we will never believe that women are as incredulous as they are fair. Under this conviction we will live as content as you would wish to render us uneasy by your maxims." " As I very well know the lady who played this good trick," said Longarine, " I can have no difficulty in be- lieving any sly things that may be attributed to her. Since she did not spare her own husband, it is not likely that she would spare her lover." "What, her husband.^" said Simontault. "Then you know more than I ; so pray tell us what you know." " I will, since you wish it," she replied. NOVEL LIX.
From Buddenbrooks: The Decline of a Family (1901)
Today there was a scene in the meeting of the central deputation for the poor, a few days ago in the finance department...' And Johann Buddenbrook added: 'An old troublemaker! « – Another time father and son came to the table angry and depressed … What happened? Ah, nothing... They lost a large shipment of rye to Holland; Strunck & Hagenstrom would have snatched them from under their noses; a fox, this Hinrich Hagenstrom ... Tony had heard such remarks often enough not to be in the best mood towards Julchen Hagenstrom. They walked together because they were once neighbors, but mostly they annoyed each other. "My father has a thousand thalers!" said Julchen, believing terribly that he was lying. "Yours maybe-?" Tony was silent with envy and humiliation. Then she said very calmly and casually: "My chocolate just tasted terribly good ... What do you actually drink for breakfast, Julchen?" "Yes, before I forget," Juliet answered; 'Would you like one of my apples? - Yes phew! but I won't give you one!' And as she did so, her lips tightened, and her black eyes moistened with pleasure. – Sometimes Julchen's brother Hermann, a few years older than her, went to school at the same time. She also had a second brother named Moritz, but he was ailing and homeschooled. Hermann was blond, but his nose lay a little flat on his upper lip. He also constantly smacked his lips because he only breathed through his mouth. "Nonsense!" he said, "Dad has a lot more than a thousand thalers." But the interesting thing about him was that he didn't take bread for second breakfast to school, but lemon rolls: a soft, oval milk pastry that contained currants, and that he stuffed himself with tongue sausage or goose breast to excess... That was his taste. This was something new for Tony Buddenbrook. Lemon roll with goose breast - by the way, it had to taste good! And when he let her look into his tin can, she betrayed a desire to try a piece. One morning Herman said: "I can't spare anything, Tony, but I'll bring an extra piece tomorrow and that'll be for you if you want to give me something in return." Well, the next morning Tony went out into the avenue and waited five minutes without Julchen coming. She waited another minute, and then Hermann came alone; he swung his lunch box back and forth on the strap and smacked his lips softly. "Well," he said"hereisonelemon roll with goose breast; there isn't even any fat on it - the pure meat... What will you give me for it?' 'Yes - a shilling perhaps?' asked Tony. They stood in the middle of the avenue. "One shilling..." Hermann repeated; then he swallowed and said: "No, I want something else." "What is it?" asked Tony; she was willing to give anything for the treat...
From Heptaméron (1559)
Amazed as the poor gentleman was at the prodigious malice of the duchess, he would not accuse her, but con- tented himself with saying, " My lady may say what she pleases. You know her, monsieur, better than I ; and you know if I have seen her elsewhere than in your com- pany, except once only when she spoke to me a very little. Your judgment is as sound as that of any prince in Christendom. Therefore, my liege, I beseech you to consider if you have ever seen anything in me which can have caused you suspicion. It is a fire which it is im- possible long to conceal in such wise that those who labour under the same malady shall not have some ink- ling of it. I beg, my liege, that you will be graciously pleased to believe two things of me : one is, that I am so true to you that, though my lady your spouse were the finest woman in the world, love would not be capable of making me do anything contrary to my honour and my duty ; the other is, that even were she not your spouse, she is, of all the women I have ever seen, the one I should be least inclined to love : and there are enough of others on whom I should sooner fix my choice." The duke's anger was somewhat mitigated by these words. " Well," said he, " I did not believe it ; so you may go on as usual with the assurance that if I find that the truth is on your side, I will love you more than ever ; but if the contrary appears, your life is in my hand." The gentleman thanked him, and declared his willing- ness to submit to the severest penalty his master could devise if he were found guilty. The duchess, seeing the gentleman continue to serve as usual, could not patiently endure it, and said to her 528 THE HEPTAMEKON OF THE [Novel -jo. husband, " It would be no more than you deserved, mon- sieur, if you were poisoned, since you have more con- fidence in your mortal enemies than in your nearest friends." " Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear," replied the duke ; " for if it appears that what you told me is true, I assure you he has not twenty-four hours to live. But as he has protested the contrary to me on oath, and as, be- sides, I never perceived anything of the sort, I cannot believe it without good proofs."
From Heptaméron (1559)
Louise of Savoy was deeply implicated in a still fouler transaction, which was attended with the most terrible con- sequences. This was the iniquitous lawsuit brought against the Constable of Bourbon, which was followed by his desertion and treason. According to all historians, the insensate love of the Duchess of Angouleme, then aged forty-four, for the constable, who was but thirty-two, was the sole cause of this suit ; but her cupidity, and the secret jealousy with which Francis I. regarded one of the handsomest, wealthiest, and bravest men in his kingdom, also contributed to that result. The object of the suit was to wrest from the constable the lordships bequeathed to him by Suzanne be Beaujeu, one of the richest heiresses in Europe, and to which Louise of Savoy laid claim as next of kin to the deceased. She did so at the instigation of the Chancellor Duprat, whose reasonings on this subject we are enabled to give in his own words, as follows : — " The marriage of M. Charles de Bourbon with Madame Suzanne was nothing else than a mere shift to stop the action at law which the said lord was ready to move against Madame de Bourbon and her daughter, on account of the estates of appanage and others entailed on the marriage of Jean de Bourbon and Maria of Berr}'. The mere apprehension of this contest made the said Madame de Bourbon condescend there- to, and to that end she dissolved the contract passed between M. d'Alen^on and Madame Suzanne. Hence there is a likeli- hood that a similar apprehension of a suit to be promoted for the whole inheritance of the house by two stronger parties than was then the said Lord of Bourbon, who was neither old enough nor strong enough to prosecute it, as the king and his mother will be, may cause some overtures to be made on the one side or the other to compromise and allay this difference. " M. de Bourbon is now but thirty-two, and Madame, the king's mother, cannot be more than forty at most, which is not too disproportioned an age for so great a lady, handsome, X X MEMOIR OF MA RGARE7\
From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)
8. St. Paulsays to Timothy (1Tim. iii. 7): “He (i.e, a bishop) must have a good testimony of those who are without, lest he fall into reproach,” “or,” as the Gloss says, “lest he be despised, both by believers and by infidels.” Now if certain religious preach in a learned and eloquent style, bishops who cannot equal them will be contemned by their people. Hence learned and eloquent preaching, practised among religious, is a danger to the Church. 1. The foregoing arguments may be answered by the following words of St. Jerome addressed to the great orator of Rome. “What cause do you have to wonder” (the Saint asks) “that at times we, in our little writings, adduce examples drawn from the literature of the world? or that we sully the whiteness of the Church by the defilement of heathen authors? You would stop marvelling at our acting thus were you not wholly possessed by Tully, and ignorant of the Scripture and of their Commentators, Volcatius excepted. Who does not know that Moses and the prophets quote from the books of the Gentiles? and that Solomon makes use of the philosophers, citing some of their opinions, and refuting others?” St. Jerome then proceeds to show that from the time of the Apostles, the canonical writers and their exponents, have mingled human wisdom and eloquence with Holy Scripture. When he has enumerated a long list of writers who have thus acted, he concludes by saying: “All these have so filled their books with the sayings of the philosophers that it is difficult to know which most to admire in them, their secular learning or their knowledge of Scripture.” At the end of his Epistle, St. Jerome adds: “I beg you, therefore, to remind him who finds fault with us, on this score that it is unwise for a toothless man to envy the teeth of those who eat, or for a mole to grudge eyes to a goat.” Hence it follows that it is commendable to make use of human eloquence and wisdom in the Divine service, and that they who blame others for so doing resemble blind men who envy those who can see, and ignorant men who blaspheme against what they cannot understand, as we read in the Epistle of St. Jude. 2. St. Augustine (IV De doctrina christiana) says: “If any man wish to speak not only learnedly but eloquently, it will profit him to read, hear and try to imitate those who are eloquent.” Hence they whose duty it is to expound the Holy Scripture must be careful to speak eloquently and fluently, for the greater advantage of those who hear them.
From Heptaméron (1559)
" You speak very prudently madam," replied Amadour, who had his answer ready, " and you do me so much honour and so much justice in putting the confidence in me you say, that if I were not content with such a blessing, I were unworthy of all others. Rut consider, madam, that he who wants to build a durable edifice must begin by laying a good and solid foundation. As I desire to remain for ever in your service, I think not only of the means of being near you, but also of hin- dering my attachment to you from being perceived. Though this attachment, madam, is quite pure, yet those who do not know the hearts of lovers often judge ill of them, and this gives occasion for scandal as much as if their conjectures were well founded. What makes me speak of this is, that Paulina, who knows well that I cannot love her, suspects me so much that wherever I am she has her eyes continually upon me. When you speak to me before her with so much kindness, I am so much afraid of making some gesture on which she may rest a surmise that I fall into the very thing I wish to avoid. I am therefore constrained, madam, to request you will not for the future address me so suddenly be- fore her, or before those whom you know to be as mali- cious as she is, for I would rather die than that any creat- ure living should perceive it. If your honour was less dear to me, I should not have been in haste to say this to you, since I am so happy in the love and the con- fidence you manifest towards me, that I desire nothing more than their continuance." Florida was so gratified that she could hardly con- tain herself, and thenceforth she felt in her heart emo- tions that were new to her. " Virtue and good breeding reply for me," she said, " and grant you what you re- quest." First day\ QUEEN OF NAVARRK. %\ That Amadour was transported with joy will not be doubted by any who love. Florida followed his advice bet- ter than he could have wished ; for as she was timid not only in presence of Paulina, but everywhere else too, she no longer sought his society as she had been used to do. She even disapproved of his intercourse with Paulina, who seemed to her so handsome that she could not believe he did not love her. Florida vented her grief with Aventurada, who was beginning to be very jealous of her husband and Paulina. She poured out her lamen- tations to Florida, who, being sick of the same distemper, consoled her as well as she could.
From The Triumph of Christianity (2018)
< 50 < Lecture 7 The Earliest Christian Missions ` When these other Jews see this great miracle, and hear Peter explain that it comes from the power of God because of his messiah Jesus, 3,000 convert on spot. The disciples continue from there, making more and more converts. ` Eventually their success creates jealousy among the Jewish leaders, and most of the Christians are driven out of Jerusalem. But God uses this persecution for good, as it allows the message then to be taken to other places. ` Opposition to the Christians follows them, however, particularly at the hands of a highly religious Jew named Saul, later to be called Paul. But in a miraculous event described in chapter 9, Saul himself has a vision of Jesus while traveling on the road to the city of Damascus, and he realizes that Jesus really is the Son of God. He converts to believe in Jesus. ` Paul is commissioned by Christ to take the gospel message further afield. Most of the second half of Acts narrates his missionary journeys with Christian companions as he takes the gospel message to other lands, making the Christian church a worldwide movement spread throughout major urban areas of the Roman world. < 50 <
From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)
Reply to Objection 3: According to the Philosopher (Rhet. ii, 9), envy is contrary both to {nemesis} and to pity, but for different reasons. For it is directly contrary to pity, their principal objects being contrary to one another, since the envious man grieves over his neighbor’s good, whereas the pitiful man grieves over his neighbor’s evil, so that the envious have no pity, as he states in the same passage, nor is the pitiful man envious. On the other hand, envy is contrary to {nemesis} on the part of the man whose good grieves the envious man, for {nemesis} is sorrow for the good of the undeserving according to Ps. 72:3: “I was envious of the wicked, when I saw the prosperity of sinners” [*Douay: ‘because I had a zeal on occasion of the wicked, seeing the prosperity of sinners’], whereas the envious grieves over the good of those who are deserving of it. Hence it is clear that the former contrariety is more direct than the latter. Now pity is a virtue, and an effect proper to charity: so that envy is contrary to pity and charity. Whether envy is a capital vice?Objection 1: It would seem that envy is not a capital vice. For the capital vices are distinct from their daughters. Now envy is the daughter of vainglory; for the Philosopher says (Rhet. ii, 10) that “those who love honor and glory are more envious.” Therefore envy is not a capital vice. Objection 2: Further, the capital vices seem to be less grave than the other vices which arise from them. For Gregory says (Moral. xxxi, 45): “The leading vices seem to worm their way into the deceived mind under some kind of pretext, but those which follow them provoke the soul to all kinds of outrage, and confuse the mind with their wild outcry.” Now envy is seemingly a most grave sin, for Gregory says (Moral. v, 46): “Though in every evil thing that is done, the venom of our old enemy is infused into the heart of man, yet in this wickedness the serpent stirs his whole bowels and discharges the bane of spite fitted to enter deep into the mind.” Therefore envy is not a capital sin. Objection 3: Further, it seems that its daughters are unfittingly assigned by Gregory (Moral. xxxi, 45), who says that from envy arise “hatred, tale-bearing, detraction, joy at our neighbor’s misfortunes, and grief for his prosperity.” For joy at our neighbor’s misfortunes and grief for his prosperity seem to be the same as envy, as appears from what has been said above [2647](A[3]). Therefore these should not be assigned as daughters of envy. On the contrary stands the authority of Gregory (Moral. xxxi, 45) who states that envy is a capital sin and assigns the aforesaid daughters thereto.
From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)
REFUTATION OF THE ERRORS OF THOSE WHO PRESUME TO DETRACT FROM THE MERIT OF OBEDIENCE, OR OF VOWSSATAN, in his jealousy of human perfection, has raised up several foolish and misleading men, who, by their teaching, have shown themselves hostile to the different modes of perfection of which we have been speaking. Vigilantius attacked the first counsel of perfection. St. Jerome thus combats his objections to it: “Some men hold that they act more virtuously who keep the use of their fortune, and divide the fruit of their possessions piecemeal among the poor, than they do who sell their goods, and, at once, give all they possess to the poor. The fallacy of this assertion is proved not by my words but by thosè of the Lord Himself, ‘If thou wilt be perfect, go, sell all that thou hast and give to the poor, and come follow me.’ Christ is here speaking to one who desires to be perfect, and who, with the Apostles, leaves father, ship, and net. The man who is praised for retaining the use of his possessions, is in the second or third degree of perfection; and we know that the first degree is preferable to either the second or the third.” Hence, in order to exclude error on this point, we find in the book, De ecclesiasticis dogmatibus the following words: “It is good to distribute one’s goods prudently among the poor; but it is better if it be done with the intention of following the Lord, to give them all away at once, and, in our dealings with Christ, to be free from all earthly solicitude.” Jovinian argued against the second counsel of perfection, and declared that marriage was equal in merit to virginity. St. Jerome refuted his opinions, in the book which he wrote against him. St. Augustine, likewise, thus speaks of his error, in his book Retractationum: “The heresy of Jovinian asserted that the merit of consecrated virgins was equalled by conjugal chastity. Hence, it is said that in Rome, certain nuns who had not hitherto been suspected of immorality, contracted marriage. Our holy mother the Church has always stoutly resisted this error. In the book De ecclesiasticis dogmatibus we find the following declaration: “It is not Christian but Jovinian to set virginity on a level with matrimony, or to deny an increase of merit to those who, for the sake of mortifying the flesh, refrain from wine or flesh meat.”
From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)
I answer that, Just as sloth is grief for a Divine spiritual good, so envy is grief for our neighbor’s good. Now it has been stated above ([2648]Q[35], A[4]) that sloth is a capital vice for the reason that it incites man to do certain things, with the purpose either of avoiding sorrow or of satisfying its demands. Wherefore envy is accounted a capital vice for the same reason. Reply to Objection 1: As Gregory says (Moral. xxxi, 45), “the capital vices are so closely akin to one another that one springs from the other. For the first offspring of pride is vainglory, which by corrupting the mind it occupies begets envy, since while it craves for the power of an empty name, it repines for fear lest another should acquire that power.” Consequently the notion of a capital vice does not exclude its originating from another vice, but it demands that it should have some principal reason for being itself the origin of several kinds of sin. However it is perhaps because envy manifestly arises from vainglory, that it is not reckoned a capital sin, either by Isidore (De Summo Bono) or by Cassian (De Instit. Caenob. v, 1). Reply to Objection 2: It does not follow from the passage quoted that envy is the greatest of sins, but that when the devil tempts us to envy, he is enticing us to that which has its chief place in his heart, for as quoted further on in the same passage, “by the envy of the devil, death came into the world” (Wis. 2:24). There is, however, a kind of envy which is accounted among the most grievous sins, viz. envy of another’s spiritual good, which envy is a sorrow for the increase of God’s grace, and not merely for our neighbor’s good. Hence it is accounted a sin against the Holy Ghost, because thereby a man envies, as it were, the Holy Ghost Himself, Who is glorified in His works.
From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)
CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. xxix. 1) Notwithstanding the disciples of Jesus baptized, John did not leave off till his imprisonment; as the Evangelist’s language intimates, For John was not yet cast into prison. BEDE. He evidently here is relating what Christ did before John’s imprisonment; a part which has been passed over by the rest, who commence after John’s imprisonment. AUGUSTINE. (Tr. xiii. c. 6) But why did John baptize? Because it was necessary that our Lord should be baptized. And why was it necessary that our Lord should be baptized? That no one might ever think himself at liberty to despise baptism. CHRYSOSTOM. (Hom. xx. 1) But why did he go on baptizing now? Because, had he left off, it might have been attributed to envy or anger: whereas, continuing to baptize, he got no glory for himself, but sent hearers to Christ. And he was better able to do this service, than were Christ’s own disciples; his testimony being so free from suspicion, and his reputation with the people so much higher than theirs. He therefore continued to baptize, that he might not increase the envy felt by his disciples against our Lord’s baptism. Indeed, the reason, I think, why John’s death was permitted, and, in his room, Christ made the great preacher, was, that the people might transfer their affections wholly to Christ, and no longer be divided between the two. For the disciples of John did become so envious of Christ’s disciples, and even of Christ Himself, that when they saw the latter baptizing, they threw contempt upon their baptism, as being inferior to that of John’s; And there arose a question from some of John’s disciples with the Jews about purifying. That it was they who began the dispute, and not the Jews, the Evangelist implies by saying, that there arose a question from John’s disciples, whereas he might have said, The Jews put forth a question. AUGUSTINE. (Tr. xiii. c. 8) The Jews then asserted Christ to be the greater person, and His baptism necessary to be received. But John’s disciples did not understand so much, and defended John’s baptism. At last they come to John, to solve the question: And they came unto John, and said unto him, Rabbi, He that was with thee beyond Jordan, behold, the Same baptizeth.
From What Belongs to You (2016)
Maybe it was something reminiscent of this charge that caught my attention in Mitko’s client or friend, a note of need I hadn’t heard in the other men he spoke with. He seemed so eager to please, his eagerness mixed with trepidation; and it seemed to me that Mitko enjoyed the power he wielded, his power to be pleased or to withhold his pleasure. I have something for you, I heard this man say, and heard also podaruk , the word Mitko loved and that the man used now for the cell phone he held up to the camera, still in its box, one of the models Mitko had looked at so covetously on Graf Ignatief. And Mitko allowed himself to be pleased, he smiled at the man and thanked him, calling his gift strahoten , a word that means awesome and is, like our word, built from a root signifying dread. You have to come get it, the man said, and Mitko agreed, he would take a bus to Plovdiv the next day. As I sat there in my fatigue, I realized it was my money that would buy Mitko’s ticket to this man and his expensive gift, and I wondered how it was I had become one of these men in the dark, offering whatever was asked for something we wouldn’t be given freely. Mitko had already introduced me to the man, he had tilted the screen toward me so that we could greet each other, which we did tentatively and with a shade of hostility on the other man’s part, maybe because I was younger than he and (for a little while yet) more attractive; and maybe simply because I still had possession of Mitko, who told him to hold up his podaruk again, for my admiration or, more likely, for my instruction. Mitko was still mine for the night, there were still hours in which he was bound by our phantom contract; I could still enjoy the desire this man was counting on as his own, his reward for the extravagance of his gift. I felt something of the jealousy of ownership, even though my ownership was temporary, wasn’t really ownership at all, and I was already bitter at the thought of sending Mitko off the next morning to Plovdiv and this other man, who had lured him away so easily. My fatigue was a kind of agitation now, I kept opening and closing the book I held unread on my lap. I couldn’t find what I had found in it before, the recovery of something like nobility from the mawkishness of desire, the sense that stray meetings in dark rooms or the shadowy commerce of my own evening could burn with genuine luminosity, rubbing up against the realm of the ideal, ready at an instant to become metaphysics. I set the book aside, seeing that Mitko was tired too, tired and noticeably drunk; he had emptied nearly two-thirds of the bottle we had bought.
From Blue Like Jazz (2003)
Here’s a tip I’ve never used: I understand you can learn a great deal about girldom by reading Pride and Prejudice, and I own a copy, but I have never read it. I tried. It was given to me by a girl with a little note inside that read: What is in this book is the heart of a woman. I am sure the heart of a woman is pure and lovely, but the first chapter of said heart is hopelessly boring. Nobody dies at all. I keep the book on my shelf because girls come into my room, sit on my couch, and eye the books on the adjacent shelf. You have a copy of Pride and Prejudice, they exclaim in a gentle sigh and smile. Yes, I say. Yes, I do. Not long ago I went to Yosemite with my Canadian friend Julie. I have a weakness for Canadian girls. I don’t know why, but when a Canadian girl asks me what I am thinking “aboat,” I go nuts. So I have had this secret crush on Julie for a while, but she likes guys who surf and skateboard and jump out of airplanes with snowboards. I pretty much don’t fit that description. I read books by dead guys. This is my identity. Besides, when Julie and I met I was in a relationship with a cute writer from the South, and Julie liked some other guy who could skateboard and play guitar. The thing with the writer didn’t work out, however, because though we had everything in common we could not connect in the soul. So it happened that I was speaking in San Francisco and Julie was traveling around California and happened to be in a hostel in the city while I was there. So I went to pick her up, and later we were driving through the Sierra Nevadas and I was nervous because she was much prettier than I remembered and we were making small talk about what we wanted in a mate, what we expected in marriage and that sort of thing. I kept wanting to say, Well, I want a tall Canadian girl who sings and plays the guitar, and is, um, not Alanis Morisette. But I couldn’t say that because Julie would have been onto me. So I just told her I wanted a girl who would be a good mom, a girl who could go deep and meaningful with me spiritually, a girl who was good in bed. I said all the cliché stuff, the stuff that has been true for centuries. But then I opened my big stupid mouth and said that I thought, honestly, there really wasn’t any such thing as true, true love. I was feeling tired when I said it. I don’t know why I said it.
From What Belongs to You (2016)
Mitko was still mine for the night, there were still hours in which he was bound by our phantom contract; I could still enjoy the desire this man was counting on as his own, his reward for the extravagance of his gift. I felt something of the jealousy of ownership, even though my ownership was temporary, wasn’t really ownership at all, and I was already bitter at the thought of sending Mitko off the next morning to Plovdiv and this other man, who had lured him away so easily. My fatigue was a kind of agitation now, I kept opening and closing the book I held unread on my lap. I couldn’t find what I had found in it before, the recovery of something like nobility from the mawkishness of desire, the sense that stray meetings in dark rooms or the shadowy commerce of my own evening could burn with genuine luminosity, rubbing up against the realm of the ideal, ready at an instant to become metaphysics. I set the book aside, seeing that Mitko was tired too, tired and noticeably drunk; he had emptied nearly two-thirds of the bottle we had bought. He was unsteady on his feet when he stood up, having said goodbye to the man in Plovdiv and having announced his intention, finally, to sleep. There were three hours left until we would have to wake, he for his short trip to Plovdiv, a couple of hours on a comfortable bus; and I for a day of teaching, when I would stand before my class wearing a face scrubbed of the eagerness and servility and need it wore as I followed Mitko to the bathroom, standing behind him (he was still naked) as he stood to piss. I rubbed his chest and stomach, lean and taut, the skin of my hands catching just slightly on the bristles of hair; and then, at his words of permission or encouragement, something like Go on, I don’t mind, my hands went lower, and gingerly I took the base of his cock and wrapped my hand around the shaft, feeling beneath my fingers the flow of water, heavy and urgent, and feeling too my own urgency, the hardness I pressed against him.
From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)
I answer that, Just as sloth is grief for a Divine spiritual good, so envy is grief for our neighbor’s good. Now it has been stated above ([2648]Q[35], A[4]) that sloth is a capital vice for the reason that it incites man to do certain things, with the purpose either of avoiding sorrow or of satisfying its demands. Wherefore envy is accounted a capital vice for the same reason. Reply to Objection 1: As Gregory says (Moral. xxxi, 45), “the capital vices are so closely akin to one another that one springs from the other. For the first offspring of pride is vainglory, which by corrupting the mind it occupies begets envy, since while it craves for the power of an empty name, it repines for fear lest another should acquire that power.” Consequently the notion of a capital vice does not exclude its originating from another vice, but it demands that it should have some principal reason for being itself the origin of several kinds of sin. However it is perhaps because envy manifestly arises from vainglory, that it is not reckoned a capital sin, either by Isidore (De Summo Bono) or by Cassian (De Instit. Caenob. v, 1). Reply to Objection 2: It does not follow from the passage quoted that envy is the greatest of sins, but that when the devil tempts us to envy, he is enticing us to that which has its chief place in his heart, for as quoted further on in the same passage, “by the envy of the devil, death came into the world” (Wis. 2:24). There is, however, a kind of envy which is accounted among the most grievous sins, viz. envy of another’s spiritual good, which envy is a sorrow for the increase of God’s grace, and not merely for our neighbor’s good. Hence it is accounted a sin against the Holy Ghost, because thereby a man envies, as it were, the Holy Ghost Himself, Who is glorified in His works.
From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)
Reply to Objection 1: Strife is not the same as discord, for strife consists in external deeds, wherefore it is becoming that it should arise from anger, which incites the mind to hurt one’s neighbor; whereas discord consists in a divergence in the movements of wills, which arises from pride or vainglory, for the reason given above. Reply to Objection 2: In discord we may consider that which is the term “wherefrom,” i.e. another’s will from which we recede, and in this respect it arises from envy; and again we may consider that which is the term “whither,” i.e. something of our own to which we cling, and in this respect it is caused by vainglory. And since in every moment the term “whither” is more important than the term “wherefrom” (because the end is of more account than the beginning), discord is accounted a daughter of vainglory rather than of envy, though it may arise from both for different reasons, as stated. Reply to Objection 3: The reason why concord makes small things thrive, while discord brings the greatest to ruin, is because “the more united a force is, the stronger it is, while the more disunited it is the weaker it becomes” (De Causis xvii). Hence it is evident that this is part of the proper effect of discord which is a disunion of wills, and in no way indicates that other vices arise from discord, as though it were a capital vice. OF CONTENTION (TWO ARTICLES)We must now consider contention, in respect of which there are two points of inquiry: (1) Whether contention is a mortal sin? (2) Whether it is a daughter of vainglory? Whether contention is a mortal sin?Objection 1: It would seem that contention is not a mortal sin. For there is no mortal sin in spiritual men: and yet contention is to be found in them, according to Lk. 22:24: “And there was also a strife amongst” the disciples of Jesus, “which of them should . . . be the greatest.” Therefore contention is not a mortal sin. Objection 2: Further, no well disposed man should be pleased that his neighbor commit a mortal sin. But the Apostle says (Phil. 1:17): “Some out of contention preach Christ,” and afterwards he says (Phil. 1:18): “In this also I rejoice, yea, and will rejoice.” Therefore contention is not a mortal sin. Objection 3: Further, it happens that people contend either in the courts or in disputations, without any spiteful purpose, and with a good intention, as, for example, those who contend by disputing with heretics. Hence a gloss on 1 Kings 14:1, “It came to pass one day,” etc. says: “Catholics do not raise contentions with heretics, unless they are first challenged to dispute.” Therefore contention is not a mortal sin.
From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)
‘Exactly … That’s better. And the drink?’ He poured a generous Bell’s. ‘Dearest—thank you. So I opened the door, to which as you know I have a key, and find Phil in there with old Bill Hawkins, from the Corry, messing around stark naked, etc, etc.’ ‘Fucking hell.’ ‘I do find it very terrible actually.’ I flopped onto the sofa and gulped at my drink. ‘I mean, I absolutely hate the thought of Phil going with someone else. But one would understand if it were just some spur-of-the-moment fling—some sexy guy staying in the hotel or something. To go with Bill, who is anyway a pal of mine and what? three times his age …’ ‘No?’ ‘Well, just about.’ I stared at James, through him, as I realised how slow I had been. ‘You know, I should have been on to this. I’ve seen Bill hanging around near the Queensberry before now—and of course I knew he was sweet on Phil, sweet on him before I was. Indeed it was really Bill’s interest in him that got me going, made me see how good he was. And then last week, when I took Phil to the Shaft, I knew something funny was going on. We were sort of horsing around outside the BM and I realised someone was watching us from across the road. I don’t think Phil saw him, but I’m convinced it was Bill.’ ‘Kind of creepy, n’est-ce pas?’ said James, wandering off and looking out of the window. He was my only friend but I knew that he would take a kind of wistful satisfaction in things having at last—at last: it was what? two months?—gone awry. ‘This needn’t mean it’s all over, though, surely?’ he said. I stared some time into my glass. ‘I don’t know. No, it needn’t. It will, I think, mean that whatever’s going on between those two is all over. What you don’t know, and what Bill doesn’t know I know, is that he has already been inside for interfering with young boys.’ But these were the kind of real-life details that never shocked James: it was only on the fantasy level that one got to him. ‘He’ll be pretty scared about all this.’ ‘Well, you’re hardly going to shop him to the police, are you?’ ‘Ooh, I don’t know,’ I said with a rueful laugh, finishing my drink and getting up to splosh in another half-tumbler full. I walked over and hugged him from behind, resting my chin on his shoulder. ‘It’s like one of those frightful seventeenth-century epitaphs: I’ve had my Will, I’ve had my Fill, and now they’ve sent in my Bill. Or something like that.’ ‘Do you want something to eat?’ ‘I think I’ll just stick on the booze, actually. Darling, can I stay here tonight? I just don’t fancy going home—and I’m sure he’ll try and ring up and it will all be too appalling.’
From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)
Whether envy is a mortal sin?Objection 1: It would seem that envy is not a mortal sin. For since envy is a kind of sorrow, it is a passion of the sensitive appetite. Now there is no mortal sin in the sensuality, but only in the reason, as Augustine declares (De Trin. xii, 12) [*Cf. [2644]FS, Q[74], A[4]]. Therefore envy is not a mortal sin. Objection 2: Further, there cannot be mortal sin in infants. But envy can be in them, for Augustine says (Confess. i): “I myself have seen and known even a baby envious, it could not speak, yet it turned pale and looked bitterly on its foster-brother.” Therefore envy is not a mortal sin. Objection 3: Further, every mortal sin is contrary to some virtue. But envy is contrary, not to a virtue but to {nemesis}, which is a passion, according to the Philosopher (Rhet. ii, 9). Therefore envy is not a mortal sin. On the contrary, It is written (Job 5:2): “Envy slayeth the little one.” Now nothing slays spiritually, except mortal sin. Therefore envy is a mortal sin. I answer that, Envy is a mortal sin, in respect of its genus. For the genus of a sin is taken from its object; and envy according to the aspect of its object is contrary to charity, whence the soul derives its spiritual life, according to 1 Jn. 3:14: “We know that we have passed from death to life, because we love the brethren.” Now the object both of charity and of envy is our neighbor’s good, but by contrary movements, since charity rejoices in our neighbor’s good, while envy grieves over it, as stated above [2645](A[1]). Therefore it is evident that envy is a mortal sin in respect of its genus. Nevertheless, as stated above (Q[35], A[4]; [2646]FS, Q[72], A[5], ad 1), in every kind of mortal sin we find certain imperfect movements in the sensuality, which are venial sins: such are the first movement of concupiscence, in the genus of adultery, and the first movement of anger, in the genus of murder, and so in the genus of envy we find sometimes even in perfect men certain first movements, which are venial sins. Reply to Objection 1: The movement of envy in so far as it is a passion of the sensuality, is an imperfect thing in the genus of human acts, the principle of which is the reason, so that envy of that kind is not a mortal sin. The same applies to the envy of little children who have not the use of reason: wherefore the Reply to the Second Objection is manifest.
From The Swimming-Pool Library (1988)
I suppose I could do it all at once.’ It was typical of my friendship with Charles that I told him nothing about what really mattered to me while he had laid himself bare, systematically, decade by decade. ‘I was going to mention it to you: my friend James, the Firbank buff, has got into a bit of trouble with the law, picked up by a policeman who just happens to be one of Ronald’s porno models. I don’t know, I thought it might be useful to get hold of the photos.’ Charles absorbed this information with the narrowed eyes and thoughtful nod of someone beyond surprise at human duplicity; but he said nothing. ‘So I will come. But honestly Charles, I’m not on for any more bellboys-get-it-up-the-bum stuff. I’ve had it up to here with all that lately. If not to here.’ ‘I promise you, my dear,’ he said, with cloying candour. James had expressed an interest in Staines, and a dirty-minded and vengeful interest in the pictures of Colin: I liked him in that mood, when he got rid of his selfless wretchedness and we could drunkenly slag people off together. I knew he would be ready to visit the photographer’s house. There was no word from Phil that night. I was in a tense, vacant condition, but I drank a bottle of wine, and managed to sleep. Dreamlife was wildly disturbed, however. There was a barely remembered sequence in which I met Taha, who was a very old but beautiful man, and began to interview him about Charles and their life together. And there was another, more vivid, in which Phil and Bill were going off on holiday. They were loading up the roofrack on my old Fiat with tentpoles and buckets and spades, and standing about in the road with various other things they had brought from my flat. I wanted to help but kept getting in the way. ‘Be careful where you put that,’ I said. ‘Don’t forget about the blind spot.’ Phil was already in tiny swimming-trunks and Bill gave him a saucy slap on the rear, leaving a large oily handprint. Across the top of the windscreen the sticker read ‘ PHIL and BILL ’. It was funny, I thought, as I came round, how you never did see cars saying ‘ GARY and CHRIS ’ or ‘ LANCE and DEREK ’. They would probably have got smashed up.
From The Art of Seduction (2001)
home. But Salomé did not stay long: she accepted an invitation of Nietz-herself And in this she succeeded with little effort, sche's to visit him, unchaperoned, in Tautenburg. In her absence Rée was for indeed she was a consumed with doubts and anger. He wanted her more than ever, and was woman more to be wooed prepared to redouble his efforts. When she finally came back, Rée vented than to do the wooing. his bitterness, railing against Nietzsche, criticizing his philosophy, and ques-And now listen to the splendid sequel: not long tioning his motives toward the girl. But Salomé took Nietzsche's side. Rée afterward it happened that was in despair; he felt he had lost her for good. Yet a few days later she sura letter which she had prised him again: she had decided she wanted to live with him, and with written to her lover fell into the hands of another him alone. woman of comparable At last Rée had what he had wanted, or so he thought. The couple set-rank, charm, and beauty; tled in Berlin, where they rented an apartment together. But now, to Rée's and since she, like most women, was curious and dismay, the old pattern repeated. They lived together but Salomé was eager to learn secrets, she courted on all sides by young men. The darling of Berlin's intellectuals, opened the letter and read who admired her independent spirit, her refusal to compromise, she was it. Realizing that it was written from the depths of constantly surrounded by a harem of men, who referred to her as "Her Ex-passion, in the most loving cellency." Once again Rée found himself competing for her attention. and ardent terms, she was Driven to despair, he left her a few years later, and eventually committed at first moved with suicide. compassion, for she knew very well from whom the In 1911, Sigmund Freud met Salomé (now known as Lou Andreas-letter came and to whom it Salomé) at a conference in Germany. She wanted to devote herself to the was addressed; then, psychoanalytical movement, she said, and Freud found her enchanting, al-however, such was the power of the words she though, like everyone else, he knew the story of her infamous affair with read, turning them over in Nietzsche (see page 46, "The Dandy"). Salomé had no background in psy-her mind and considering choanalysis or in therapy of any kind, but Freud admitted her into the in-what kind of man it must be who had been able to ner circle of followers who attended his private lectures. Soon after she arouse such great love, she joined the circle, one of Freud's most promising and brilliant students, Dr. at once began to fall in love Victor Tausk, sixteen years younger than Salomé, fell in love with her. Sa-with him herself; and the lomé's relationship with Freud had been platonic, but he had grown ex-letter was without doubt far more effective than if the