Joy

Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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• From The Principles of Psychology (Volume 1 of 2) (1890)

  Imitation. The child's first words are in part vocables of his own invention, which his parents adopt, and which, as far as they go, form a new human tongue upon the earth; and in part they are his more or less successful imitations of words he beers the parents use. But the instinct of imitating gestures develops earlier than that of imitating sounds,—unless the sympathetic crying of a baby when it hears another cry may be reckoned as imitation of a sound. Professor Preyer speaks of his child imitating the protrusion of the father's lips in its fifteenth week. The various accomplishments of infancy, making 'pat-a-cake,' saying' 'bye-bye,' 'blowing out the candle,' etc., usually fall well inside the limits of the first year. Later come all the various imitative games in which childhood revels, playing 'horse,' 'soldiers,' etc., etc. And from this time onward man is essentially the imitative animal. His whole educability and in fact the whole history of civilization depend on this trait, which his strong tendencies to rivalry, jealousy, and acquisitiveness reinforce. 'Nil humani a me alienum puto,' is the motto of each individual of the species; and makes him, whenever another individual shows a power or superiority of any kind, restless until he can exhibit it himself. But apart from this kind of imitation, of which the psychological roots are complex, there is the more direct propensity to speak and walk and behave like others, usually without any conscious intention of so doing. And there is the imitative tendency which shows itself in large masses of men, and produces panics, and orgies, and frenzies of violence, and which only the rarest individuals can actively withstand. This sort of imitativeness is possessed by man in common with other gregarious animals, and is an instinct in the fullest sense of the term, being a, blind impulse to act as soon as a certain perception occurs. It is particularly hard not to imitate gaping, laughing, or looking and running in a certain direction, if we see others doing so. Certain mesmerized subjects must automatically imitate whatever motion their operator makes before their eyes.[389] A successful piece of mimicry gives to both bystanders and mimic a peculiar kind of aesthetic pleasure. The dramatic impulse, the tendency to pretend one is someone else, contains this pleasure of mimicry as one of its elements. Another element seems to be a peculiar sense of power in stretching one's own personality so as to include that of a strange person. In young children this instinct often knows no bounds. For a few months in one of my children's third year, he literally hardly ever appeared in his own person. It was always, "Play I am So-and-so, and you are So-and-so, and the chair is such a thing, and then we'll do this or that." If you called him by his name, H., you invariably got the reply, "I'm not H., I'm a hyena, or a horse-car," or whatever the feigned object might it be. He outwore this impulse after a time; but while it lasted, it had every appearance of being the automatic result of ideas, often suggested by perceptions, working out irresistible motor effects. Imitation shades into

• From The Principles of Psychology (Volume 1 of 2) (1890)

  These are the moral, intellectual, and æsthetic feelings. Concords of sounds, of colors, of lines, logical consistencies, teleological fitnesses, affect us with a pleasure that seems ingrained in the very form of the representation itself, and to borrow nothing from any reverberation surging up from the parts below the brain. The Herbartian psychologists have distinguished feelings due to the form in which ideas may be arranged. A mathematical demonstration may be as 'pretty,' and an act of justice as 'neat,' as a drawing or a tune, although the prettiness and neatness seem to have nothing to do with sensation. We have, then, or some of us seem to have, genuinely cerebral forms of pleasure and displeasure, apparently not agreeing in their mode of production with the 'coarser ' emotions we have been analyzing. And it is certain that readers whom our reasons have hitherto failed to convince will now start up at this admission, and consider that by it we give up our whole case. Since musical perceptions, since logical ideas, can immediately arouse a form of emotional feeling, they will say, is it not more natural to suppose that in the case of the so-called 'coarser' emotions, prompted by other kinds of objects, the emotional feeling is equally immediate, and the bodily expression something that comes later and is added on? In reply to this we must immediately insist that æsthetic emotion, pure and simple, the pleasure given us by certain lines and masses, and combinations of colors and sounds, is an absolutely sensational experience, an optical or auricular feeling that is primary, and not due to the repercussion backwards of other sensations elsewhere consecutively aroused. To this simple primary and immediate pleasure in certain pure sensations and harmonious combinations of them, there may, it is true, be added secondary pleasures; and in the practical enjoyment of works of art by the masses of mankind these secondary pleasures play a great part. The more classic one's taste is, however, the less relatively important are the secondary pleasures felt to be in comparison with those of the primary sensation as it comes in.[433] Classicism and romanticism have their battles over this point. Complex suggestiveness, the awakening of vistas of memory and association, and the stirring of our flesh with picturesque mystery and gloom, make a work of art romantic. The classic taste brands these effects as coarse and tawdry, and prefers the naked beauty of the optical and auditory sensations, unadorned with frippery or foliage. To the romantic mind, on the contrary, the immediate beauty of these sensations seems dry and thin. I am of course not discussing which view is right, but only showing that the discrimination between the primary feeling of beauty, as a pure incoming sensible quality, and the secondary emotions which are grafted thereupon, is one that must be made.

• From The Principles of Psychology (Volume 1 of 2) (1890)

  Vocalization. This may be either musical or significant. Very few weeks after birth the baby begins to express its spirits by emitting vowel sounds, as much during inspiration as during expiration, and will lie on its back cooing and gurgling to itself for nearly an hour. But this singing has nothing to do with speech. Speech is sound significant. During the second year a certain number of significant sounds are gradually acquired; but talking proper does not set in till the instinct to imitate sounds ripens in the nervous system; and this ripening seems in some children to be quite abrupt. Then speech grows rapidly in extent and perfection. The child imitates every word he hears uttered, and repeats it again and again with the most evident plea-sure at his new power. At this time it is quite impossible to talk with him, for his condition is that of 'Echolalia,'—instead of answering the question, he simply reiterates it. The result is, however, that his vocabulary increases very fast; and little by little, with teaching from above, the young prattler understands, puts words together to express his own wants and perceptions, and even makes intelligent replies. From a, speechless, he has become a speaking, animal. The interesting point with regard to this instinct is the oftentimes very sudden birth of the impulse to imitate sounds. Up to the date of its awakening the child may have been as devoid of it as a dog. Four days later his whole energy may be poured into this new channel. The habits of articulation formed during the plastic age of childhood are in most persons sufficient to inhibit the formation of new ones of a fundamentally different sort witness the inevitable 'foreign accent' which distinguishes the speech of those who learn a language after early youth.

• From The Principles of Psychology (Volume 1 of 2) (1890)

  "I have also received batches of answers from various educational establishments both in England and America, which were made after the masters had fully explained the meaning of the questions, and interested the boys in them. These have the merit of returns derived from a general census, which my other data lack, because I cannot for a moment suppose that the writers of the latter are a haphazard proportion of those to whom they were sent. Indeed I know of some who, disavowing all possession of the power, and of many others who, possessing it in too faint a degree to enable them to express what their experiences really were, in a manner satisfactory to themselves, sent no returns at all. Considerable statistical similarity was, however, observed between the sets of returns furnished by the schoolboys and those sent by my separate correspondents, and I may add that they accord in this respect with the oral information I have elsewhere obtained. The conformity of replies from so many different sources which was clear from the first, the fact of their apparent trustworthiness being on the whole much increased by cross-examination (though I could give one or two amusing instances of break-down), and the evident effort made to give accurate answers, have convinced me that it is a much easier matter than I had anticipated to obtain trustworthy replies to psychological questions. Many persons, especially women and intelligent children, take pleasure in introspection, and strive their very best to explain their mental processes. I think that a delight in self-dissection must be a strong ingredient in the pleasure that many are said to take in confessing themselves to priests.

• From A Way of Being (1980)

  SHORT-TERM EFFECTS OF THE CICLOS There have been a number of promising results from the three ciclos. John led an interest group at Rio for those who wanted to continue to share personal experiences with one another. Five months later, the group continues to meet, spending all day together each Sunday. Membership varies, but a core of twelve to fifteen persons say it grows more and more useful to them. The women’s group led by Maureen in Rio was the first such group for most of the women. Maureen was informed that a dozen or so of those women now meet regularly in a consciousness-raising group. The Brazilian organizing group in Recife talked out their bitter feelings toward one another, with some facilitation from our staff. This was the first time in their lives that they had ever dealt with one another, or with any professional colleagues, in this frank and open way. This group—representing various local organizations—has continued as a support group for its members. They are organizing their professional and personal lives in new ways, attributing the beginning of change to the ciclo experience. The wife of a wealthy professional, who had been struggling to live the life of the dutiful (and helpless) Brazilian woman, has finally taken the courage to challenge the rigid constraints of her role expectations and go after her personhood. She has since applied for several workshops in the United States, and has decided to go against her husband’s ultimatum—“It’s either your career or our marriage”—and follow her own powerful need to find her own independent self. And the marriage appears to be mending. A successful psychoanalyst decided to get training as a humanistic psychologist because he felt his “power as a person” was as important as his professional orientation and, after the ciclos, he felt he had faith in himself. Literally dozens of people reported that at night after they left the meetings, they found themselves relating to people they loved in new and more straightforward ways. A Brazilian psychologist wrote to Carl four months after the ciclos with these reports: A woman therapist in Rio thought the first day ridiculous and on the second one, discovered something extremely important might be happening. She is changing her way of working. One of my clients can’t accept your ideas on education, and said it to you in public, which for her was a profound experience because she has always feared speaking even to a small group. The ciclo showed her you (or any other “authority”) were not threatening, and this is giving her a whole new way of being. A psychiatrist reports that the Rio ciclo was decisive in changing many people’s professional or personal directions, and helped others to take bolder steps or greater risks. On the other hand, many, it seems, were just disappointed and angry at the chaos and unproductivity, calling it anarchy. They gained little or nothing, they believe.

• From The Surprising Lives of Christian Saints (2023)

  17. Saints and Modernity Benedict XVI. Miracles and the putative saint’s way of life still must be verified, a process that involves doctors, lawyers, archivists, and historians, as well as theologians and cardinals. Pope John Paul II single-handedly canonized or beatified as many holy dead as all his predecessors combined. Under his papacy, canonizations became enormous events, and St. Peter’s Square became an exuberant, joyful sea of proud national groups waving flags and celebrating their saints. Miracles and Modern Science In the face of modern medicine and science, how should we understand, investigate, and even verify miracles? This is a problem the Catholic Church has been grappling with for centuries. Even as early as the 13th century, doctors might be called in to examine the bodies of the holy dead and confirm signs of sanctity. This might take the form of curious anatomical findings, as with Saint Clare of Montefalco. When she died in 1308, a local doctor helped the sisters of her community perform an autopsy. They discovered her heart muscle had altered to form the shape of the instruments of the Passion, and three gallstones represented the Trinity, making her a kind of “living reliquary,” in the words of scholar Cordelia Warr. Other medical experts might be called in to examine the exhumed bodies of saints, who were regularly moved from their initial resting place to a prominent location beneath or near the altar of a church. A common early physical indicator of sanctity was supposed to be the appearance of an “incorrupt body,” or one that was at least partially mummified, with a “sweet odor” instead of the stench of decomposition. 127

• From Soaking Wet: Lesbian Sex Stories (2014)

  Then there it was, her climax, like a shock to both our systems as she shuddered beneath me. After a few moments we came back to earth. She looked up at me, squinting. “Baby, I just have one question,” she said. “I know I got a perfect score, but can we have a wet T-shirt contest next time we go to the beach?” “Of course,” I said, and kissed her. We’d be fools not to. SABRA Lux Zakari I bet I could change your mind, Mrs. B,” Sabra said with a smile as we stood next to each other on the pavement. She continued to hold open the limo door for me, the gold streetlight making her dark skin seem luminescent. The night’s crisp air turned her breath into clouds. I stopped scrambling in my purse for her tip and froze, startled. “Change my mind about what?” I had no idea what she was talking about, but my skin prickled anyway. “Everything.” She purred the words as she urged me back into the limo. For the past few hours she’d been driving me to my meetings, just as she had the last time I’d been in the city. She’d shown up at my door with a cocked hip and a crooked, knowing smile, but had remained professional all evening. Despite that, every glance she shot me in the rearview made my heart pound; no one had ever looked at me with such intensity, such want . I was sure she’d gotten a sneaking suspicion of the sudden, inexplicit dampness between my legs by the way I’d nervously cleared my throat and looked down at my hands, clenched in my lap. Now we were parked across from my hotel on a quiet street, and although her duties were technically considered to be over, she clearly had other things in mind. Sabra closed the limo door behind her and sat down next to me on the leather seat, still wearing that mysterious smile. She pulled off her black chauffeur’s cap, shaking her braids free. Her fingers went to the giant gold buttons on the front of her uniform and she undid them slowly, watching my face for any reaction. When she opened her top, her naked breasts sprung free, presenting her already stiff nipples. I sucked in a gulp of air and tried to will my body to stop shaking. This all was certainly different from the last time she’d driven me to my meetings, which had just been a few months ago, when I was still married and spent the majority of the time in her limo arguing with my ex-husband on my cell phone. She’d remained silent, but I’d seen her knowing smirks in the rearview mirror. At any rate, now it looked like she wanted to take me on a different kind of ride.

• From Laura Middleton; Her Brother and Her Lover (1890)

  Then gently laying her down, I again commenced operations; at first thrusting my weapon cautiously and gradually in and out of the charming orifice so as to avoid the risk of hurting her. But I soon found there was no danger of this. The elements of pleasure were so fiercely aroused within her that my exertions occasioned very different sensations from those which had accompanied my first entrance into her delicious quarters, and in a few minutes her efforts to promote our mutual bliss vied with, if they did not exceed, my own. For the first time in her life she thoroughly enjoyed the most exquisite of all sensations a woman can be blessed with, that of having her most sensitive region fully gorged with the masterpiece which first works her up to the most amorous frenzy and then subdues her by making her die away with itself in melting bliss. There was not a moment from the time when I half withdrew and again inserted the delicious morsel, the possession of which she so much enjoyed, till the overwhelming bliss of mutual emission took away our senses, that she did not evince both by her gestures and her words the most excessive and frantic delight, and I need hardly say that my enjoyment equalled hers. When our second course was finished, I withdrew my still unexhausted weapon, which notwithstanding its double victory still held up its head bravely, but I was somewhat horrified at the mingled tide which now poured out its crimson stream down her thighs. She was in great distress less it might betray her, but I managed to prevent any of it getting upon her dress and persuaded her to accompany me to a small fountain a little way off where, dipping my handkerchief in the water, I first removed all marks of the conflict, and then continued to bathe the swollen and tender lips which still bore traces of the fierce nature of the combat. Finding the cooling sensation was grateful to her, I continued the application until the sight of her charms, thus freely exposed, made the author of the mischief so wild at the contemplation of the effects of his own deeds that I was obliged to show the state he was in, and tell her that it would require another defeat before he could be quieted. She hesitated a little from the fear of the pain accompanying his re-entrance in the present tender state of her interior. But seeing that he also bore bloody marks of the fray, she insisted on reciprocating the good offices I had bestowed upon her, and taking the handkerchief, she proceeded to remove them by tenderly bathing the little gentleman.

• From From the Streets to the Sheets: Noire's Urban Erotic Quickies (2007)

  Mission accomplished! Dushawn let out a loud groan that echoed through the large empty building. On his last stroke, he tried to plunge his big-ass dick up through the roof of my pussy. I felt like I was ’bout to bust wide open, but I kept ridin’. He moaned and kept grindin’. I threw my ass into overdrive and bounced on the leftovers until I finished my second hard cum. • • • We got dressed in the purple light of night. Just before we climbed out of a secret third-story entrance, Dushawn hugged me tightly and gently devoured my lips and tongue. He gave me one last sweet deep kiss and said, “Let’s bounce.” Holding hands, we left the old abandoned factory where we’d played hide-and-seek as kids, and started walkin’ back to Alameda to where we had parked our cars by Angel’s Doughnuts. We figured it was safe there cuz it’s always some old guys on the patio playin’ dominoes and takin’ bets. As we got closer to Angel’s, the streets got noisier and more crowded than usual because it was Friday night. All the soldiers lined the sidewalks and steps of their apartments, laughin’ and plottin’ capers. Pook and Dre were at the curb slippin’ dimes of Chronic, and a slick song was blastin’ from the windows of a big tan-and-white apartment building on Willowbrook. A couple of young moms were sittin’ out front, bouncin’ their babies to the beat while they kicked it and cut it up. “Hey, gurrrrrrrrrrrl!” It was this bitch named Nakisha. She knew me and Cami from Willowbrook. I could tell she was shocked to see me holdin’ hands with Dushawn. Life had not been kind to her. She was fat as fuck, with a kangaroo pouch in the front and two grocery bags of ass in the back. “Camille never told me you and her brother was kickin’ it.” “Did I miss something? When did you and Cami start kickin’ it? We talk er’ night and she never mentioned yo ass.” I shut that shit straight down, but I knew I’d have to talk to Cami right away. Dushawn never said a word, but he never let go of my hand either. A little further down, somebody was fryin’ the hell out of some chicken. It was smellin’ up the whole block. TVs were flickering through every other window. Dushawn was quiet and I was pretty quiet my damn self. My pussy was still clenching and throbbin’ from being broke off proper. I thought about Camille. I wondered how she’d act when I told her about me and Dushawn. She used to haaate the bitches that tried to get to Dushawn by tryin’ to strike up a fake-ass friendship with her. I knew I had to tell her before Nakisha blurted it out just to see the look on her face. You know how foul bitches do it. • • •

• From Laura Middleton; Her Brother and Her Lover (1890)

  When I awoke, the sun was shining brightly into the room. During her sleep Laura had somewhat changed her position, and instead of fronting me, had turned upon her left side, presenting her splendid posteriors to me, between which my champion was nestling himself. Judging by his imposing appearance, his powers did not seem in any way impaired by the exertions of the previous night. Turning down the bedclothes, I for some time quietly revelled in the sight of her charms, and then getting excited beyond endurance, though unwilling to disturb her peaceful slumber, I thought I might perhaps be able without awakening her to take up a more satisfactory position than the one I enjoyed. So gently raising her right leg and creeping as close behind her as I could, I placed my right leg between her thighs in such a manner that my champion shoved himself between her legs, stretching up almost to her navel, In this position I lay for some little time till some half muttered words and certain movements of her body made me suspect that Laura in her sleep was acting over again the scenes of the previous night. Convinced that she would have no more objection than myself to the illusion being converted into the reality, I gently separated the lips of the seat of pleasure and inserted the tip of the appropriate organ. His sweet touch in such a sensitive spot at once broke her slumber. She opened her eyes, and glancing downward got a full view of my stiffly distended weapon with its ruby head quite uncovered just entering within the charming precincts of her lovely retreat, and she said smiling that it was just what she had been dreaming of. She was then going to turn herself round towards me, but I told her to remain as she was and that I thought we should be able to accomplish our wishes in that position. I pointed out to her that although we could not so well enjoy the pleasure of kissing each other, we could at least better watch and observe each other's operations while my weapon was perforating her, as the reflexion of our figures in a large mirror, which I had purposely placed so as to produce the best effect, would add greatly to our enjoyment. Looking towards it, she blushed deeply at beholding exposed to her full view her own lovely face, exquisite swelling breasts, snow-white belly and ivory thighs, with the upper part of the mount of pleasure beautifully shaded with its appropriate fringe and the lips swollen and distended with the shaft of love, while my leg, holding her thighs apart, exposed to view between them the pleasure-yielding receptacles of its liquid treasures, and at every heave I gave exhibited at full length the staff of my weapon as I alternately penetrated and then partly withdrew it from its delicious sheath. This exquisite site delighted us so much that we determined to prolong it as much as possible, and regulating each other's movements so as to keep up the enjoyment to the uttermost and at the same time hold back the crisis, we lay in the most extatic bliss for upwards of an hour, enjoying the thrilling delight which this perfect combination of the most exquisite sensations of touch and sight can confer. At length, in spite of our endeavours, we could no longer restrain the tide of passion, a few furious heaves of my maddened and thrusting pleasure-giver completed our bliss, and the genial shower sprinkled the field of pleasure and calmed our overexcited senses.

• From Laura Middleton; Her Brother and Her Lover (1890)

  Accordingly, the next night she insisted upon us both operating on her at the same time. Frank offered to me the choice of routes. But as I was aware that he had often contemplated with great pleasure the idea of opening up the new way, which he thought would be peculiarly well suited to his yet somewhat undeveloped proportions, I at once gave him the precedence. I told him that, as I had already had one victory over a maiden citadel, it was only fair that he should enjoy the next and that it was better he should do so, as in all probability he would obtain it with less suffering to the conquered fair one than if my larger battering ram were at first introduced. Laura quite approved of this arrangement. Having all stripped quite naked, I laid myself down in the bed at full length and then drew her upon me, making her place herself so as to bring her cavity just over the stiff pole which was standing up ready to enter it. She herself inserted and adjusted it in the most satisfactory manner. When she was quite impaled upon me and firmly fastened by the wedge being fairly driven home in her, Frank got between her legs on his knees, and with lance in hand, proceeded to insert it in her hinder cavity. Being, however, his first attempt at storming a maiden fortress, he was not very expert at it, and the coveted way proving very narrow and confined, it was not without some difficulty he effected his object. The obstacles, however, only increased the ardour of his desires and, with the assistance of a little cold cream, they were at length happily surmounted, and his weapon forced its way into the interior of the citadel. During this time I endeavoured to keep as quiet as possible, and as Frank's efforts occasioned her some pain, Laura also remained nearly motionless, only exerting herself a little occasionally to humour his movements and assist him in effecting an entrance. As soon, however, as I found from his exclamation of delight that his weapon had overcome all resistance and was as fully imbedded in the lascivious, fleshy sheath as mine was, I began at first gently and quietly, and then more rapidly and vigorously, to join in the combat, heaving my buttocks up and down and urging the lusty pole backwards and forwards in its delicious quarters, only pausing now and then to receive and return the burning kisses which Laura, now rendered quite frantic with the double enjoyment stimulating her both before and behind, showered upon me. I soon found that any further efforts on my part were quite unnecessary. Maddened by the novel excitement, Laura heaved and thrust alternately, displacing and replacing the sturdy instruments above and below, and declaring she really knew not which of them afforded her the greatest delight. I, therefore, confined myself to favouring her movements so as to give them the greatest possible effect, till at last with her eyes flashing fire and her whole body panting and heaving with the excess of her emotion, she almost shouted out, "Oh, heavens, this is too much!" Her grasp round me slackened, and she sunk entranced on my bosom, while Frank and I responded to her call, and a few frantic heaves on both our parts served to cause our rivers of delight to flow into her where, mingling with her own flood, they somewhat served to calm our overexcited senses.

• From The Surprising Lives of Christian Saints (2023)

  2. Philip Neri: Playful Pragmatist Philip’s kindness, patience, and forgiving nature drew people in crisis to him so often that he hung the key to his door on a hook outside, and anyone who wished could let themselves in for confession, day or night. Philip’s advice often had to do with attaining what today we would call psychological balance: a sense of happiness and even joy in the world combined with a hefty dose of good sense. He was ever skeptical of sudden conversions and quick adoption of intensely pious attitudes, seeing them as less sustainable than consistent, small spiritual exercises. It’s unclear exactly when his gatherings became formalized into the early Oratory, as his followers’ organization was later known. But we do know something of their lifestyle. At first, his followers might work a shift at the hospital ward, then gather in Philip’s room for a short sermon or discussion on the Bible and meditation. Their leader was a master of improvisation and often led them to hear a sermon at the nearby Dominican church or on a short pilgrimage out of the city to the gardens and hillsides of some villa. Discussions were wide-ranging and in good spirit, intent on broadening the mind. As Philip’s followers grew, they moved from his small room into a room above the nave of San Girolamo. His earliest followers were men from the lower classes, but as his reputation grew, he began to attract prelates from the curia, musicians from the papal chapel, and wealthy businessmen. In 1564, a group of Florentines approached Philip to become the director of the Florentine parish in Rome, San Giovanni dei Fiorentini. He agreed but continued to live at San Girolamo. However, the new space attracted some of his followers, and they began to hold meetings of the “little oratory” there, attracting a more clerical crowd and shaping the lifestyle of what would become the formal Congregation of the Oratory. 12

• From The Girls (2016)

  “From Trader Vic’s.” The banality of this remark—Suzanne and I caught each other’s eyes. “What?” Mitch said. When we kept laughing, he did, too. “This is fun,” he repeated over the music. He kept saying how much some actor he knew liked the song. “He really got it,” he said. “Wouldn’t stop playing it. Tuned-in guy.” It was new to me, that you could treat someone famous like they weren’t that special, that you could see all the ways they were disappointing and regular or notice the way his kitchen smelled of trash that hadn’t been taken out. The phantom squares on the wall where photographs had once hung, the gold records leaned against the baseboard, still wrapped in plastic. Suzanne acted like it was really only she and I that mattered, and this was all a little game we were playing with Mitch. He was the background to the larger story, which was our story, and we pitied him and felt grateful to him, at the same time, for how he sacrificed himself for our enjoyment. Mitch had a little coke, and it was almost painful to watch him shake it out carefully onto a book about TM, staring at his own hands with a queer distance, like they didn’t belong to him. He cut three lines, then peered at them. He fussed around until one was markedly bigger and snorted it quickly, breathing hard. “Ahh,” he said, leaning back, his throat raw and pricked with golden stubble. He held out the book to Suzanne, who danced over, sniffing up a line, and I did the last one. The coke made me want to dance, so I did. Suzanne grabbing my hands, smiling at me. It was a strange moment: we were dancing for Mitch, but I was eaten up by her eyes, how she urged me on. She watched me move with pleasure. Mitch was trying to talk, telling us some story about his girlfriend. How lonesome he’d been since she’d left for Marrakesh, on some tear about needing more space. “Baloney,” he kept saying. “Ah, baloney.” We were indulging him: I took my lead from Suzanne, who nodded when he spoke but rolled her eyes at me or loudly urged him to tell us more. He was talking about Linda that night, though her name meant nothing to me. I was barely listening: I’d picked up a small wooden box rattling with tiny silver balls and tipped it, trying to get the balls to drop into holes painted to look like the mouths of dragons. Linda would be his ex-girlfriend by the time of the murders, only twenty-six, though that age seemed vague to me then, like a knock on a faraway door. Her son, Christopher, was five years old but had already been to ten countries, bundled along on his mother’s travels like the pouch of her scarab jewelry. The ostrich-skin cowboy boots she stuffed with rolled-up magazines so they’d keep their shape.

• From The Girls (2016)

  “Mothers and daughters who’d take a trip together. Who are sweet with each other like you two.” “Oh, she’s great,” Sasha said. “I love my mom.” She cut me a tricky smile before she leaned her face close to mine. The dry press of her lips, the stingy brine of pickles on her mouth. The most chaste of kisses. Still. Victor was shocked. As she’d hoped he would be. “Goddamn,” Victor said, both disgusted and titillated. Straightening his bulky shoulders, retucking his blousy shirt. He suddenly seemed wary of us, glancing around for support, for confirmation, and I wanted to explain that Sasha wasn’t my daughter, but I was past the point of caring, the night stoking a foolish, confused sense that I had somehow returned to the world after a period of absence, had taken up residence again in the realm of the living. 1969 6 My father had always been in charge of pool maintenance—skimming the surface with a net, heaping wet leaves into a pile. The colored vials he used to test chlorine levels. He’d never been that assiduous with upkeep, but the pool had gotten bad since he’d left. Salamanders idling around the filter. When I propelled myself along the rim, there was some sloggy resistance, crud dispersing in my wake. My mother was at group. She’d forgotten a promise to buy me a new swimsuit, so I was wearing my old orange one: pale as cantaloupe, the stitching puckered and gaping around the leg holes. The top was too small, but the adult mass of cleavage pleased me. It had only been a week since the solstice party, and already I’d been back to the ranch, and already I was stealing money for Suzanne, bill by bill. I like to imagine that it took more time than that. That I had to be convinced over a period of months, slowly broken down. Wooed as carefully as a valentine. But I was an eager mark, anxious to offer myself. I kept bobbing in the water, algae speckling the hair on my legs like filings to a magnet. A forgotten paperback ruffled on the seat of the lawn chair. The leaves in the trees were silvery and spangled, like scales, everything full with June’s lazy heat. Had the trees around my house always looked like that, so strange and aquatic? Or were things already shifting for me, the dumb litter of the normal world transforming into the lush stage sets of a different life? — Suzanne had driven me home the morning after the solstice, my bike shoved in the backseat. My mouth was leached and unfamiliar from smoking so much, and my clothes were stale from my body and smelled of ash. I kept picking bits of straw from my hair—proof of the night before that thrilled me, like a stamped passport. It had happened, after all, and I

• From Laura Middleton; Her Brother and Her Lover (1890)

  Pretty well aware what would be the consequence of this proceeding, I allowed her to take her own way. And as even the application of the cold water failed to quench his ardour, she at length admitted that there was nothing for it but to renew the combat and we accordingly returned to the summer house. Notwithstanding all my care, the pain I occasioned her while getting fairly established within her was very severe; but she persevered in her efforts to introduce him to his old quarters until she had effectually accomplished it to our mutual satisfaction. As soon as I had fairly reached the bottom, I desisted from the attack, and allowed her to remain quiet till all her suffering had entirely subsided and she was again in a condition to be able to enjoy the perfect pleasure. The first hot eagerness of novelty being now over, we both felt disposed on this occasion to prolong our enjoyment as much as possible and we accordingly proceeded with the operation more leisurely, watching the effects to our mutual efforts to produce the greatest enjoyment, and telling each other when to quicken or retard our movements, so as to keep the delicious sensations at their highest pitch, and at the same time delay the final crisis as long as possible. Sometimes it was I who would urge the fierce intruder backwards and forwards in his career of pleasure; and sometimes, making me remain still, it was she who, with up-and-down heaves of her delicious buttocks, would make the lips and sides of her charming, tight-fitting sheath move over my entranced weapon, creating within it the most voluptuous sensations it is possible to conceive. But at length we could restrain ourselves no longer, and then again commenced a furious struggle of mutual heaves and thrusts intermingled with burning kisses and fond caresses, which soon resulted in drawing from us a pleasing stream of such enchanting extasy that Laura declared it was even more delicious than the previous one, which she had believed could not have been surpassed. By this time she began to be afraid that her absence might be noticed and insisted that it was time for her to return to the hall. Before she left me I easily persuaded her to resume her morning visits to the summer house, and to allow me to meet her there. I satisfied her that there was no risk in this, as in the event of anyone coming to the place by chance, I could easily take refuge in my hiding-place so that no suspicion could arise if she were found there alone. For several mornings we continued to indulge ourselves with a repetition of our amorous pranks and every meeting only added to the zest with which we gave ourselves up to every mode of enjoyment we could devise.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Then finally, since it was his wish to make an end of what was begun, or in other words that she should become the King of Algarve’s wife, he wrote informing him of all that had happened, adding that, if he still desired to marry her, he should send his envoys to fetch her. The King of Algarve was delighted with these tidings, sent a suitably distinguished party to act as her escort, and upon her arrival he gave her a joyous welcome. And so, despite the fact that eight separate men had made love to her on thousands of different occasions, she entered his bed as a virgin and convinced him that it was really so. And for many years afterwards she lived a contented life as his queen. Hence the proverbial saying: ‘A kissed mouth doesn’t lose its freshness: like the moon it turns up new again.’15 EIGHTH STORYThe Count of Antwerp, being falsely accused, goes into exile and leaves his two children in different parts of England. Unknown to them, he returns from Ireland to find them comfortably placed. Then he serves as a groom in the army of the King of France, and having established his innocence, is restored to his former rank. The ladies heaved many a sigh over the fair lady’s several adventures: but who knows what their motives may have been? Perhaps some of them were sighing, not so much because they felt sorry for Alatiel, but because they longed to be married no less often than she was. However, leaving this question aside, when they had all finished laughing at Panfilo’s final words, from which the queen assumed his tale to be finished, she turned to Elissa and enjoined her to continue the proceedings with a story of her own. Being only too pleased to oblige, Elissa began as follows:

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Seeing that her mind was made up, and knowing Federigo to be a gentleman of great merit even though he was poor, her brothers fell in with her wishes and handed her over to him, along with her immense fortune. Thenceforth, finding himself married to this great lady with whom he was so deeply in love, and very rich into the bargain, Federigo managed his affairs more prudently, and lived with her in happiness to the end of his days. TENTH STORYPietro di Vinciolo goes out to sup with Ercolano, and his wife lets a young man in to keep her company. Pietro returns, and she conceals the youth beneath a chicken coop. Pietro tells her that a young man has been discovered in Ercolano’s house, having been concealed there by Ercolano’s wife, whose conduct she severely censures. As ill luck would have it, an ass steps on the fingers of the fellow hiding beneath the coop, causing him to yell with pain. Pietro rushes to the spot and sees him, thus discovering his wife’s deception. But in the end, by reason of his own depravity, he arrives at an understanding with her. When the queen’s tale had reached its conclusion, they all praised God for having given Federigo so fitting a reward, and then Dioneo, who was not in the habit of waiting to be asked, began straightway as follows: Whether it is an accidental failing, stemming from our debased morals, or simply an innate attribute of men and women, I am unable to say; but the fact remains that we are more inclined to laugh at scandalous behaviour than virtuous deeds, especially when we ourselves are not directly involved. And since, as on previous occasions, the task I am about to perform has no other object than to dispel your melancholy, enamoured ladies, and provide you with laughter and merriment, I shall tell you the ensuing tale, for it may well afford enjoyment even though its subject matter is not altogether seemly. As you listen, do as you would when you enter a garden, and stretch forth your tender hands to pluck the roses, leaving the thorns where they are. This you will succeed in doing if you leave the knavish husband to his ill deserts and his iniquities, whilst you laugh gaily at the amorous intrigues of his wife, pausing where occasion warrants to commiserate with the woes of her lover.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  The shepherds replied that some three miles away there was a castle belonging to Liello di Campo di Fiore, and that Liello’s wife was at present living there. Overjoyed, Pietro asked whether any of the shepherds would guide him as far as the castle, and two of them volunteered to do so. On reaching the castle, Pietro met various people he knew, and whilst he was trying to arrange for them to go out and search for the girl in the forest, he was told that Liello’s wife wanted to see him. He promptly answered her summons, and on finding that she had Agnolella with her, he was the happiest man that was ever born. He was positively longing to take her in his arms, but was too embarrassed to do so in the presence of the lady. And if his own joy knew no bounds, the girl was no less delighted on seeing him. The noble lady took him in and made him very welcome, and having heard the tale of his adventures from his own lips, she spoke to him severely for attempting to defy the wishes of his kinsfolk. But on seeing that he was quite unrepentant, and that the girl was eager to marry him, she said to herself: ‘Why should I go to all this trouble? They are in love, they understand one another, both are friends of my husband, and their intentions are honourable. Besides, it seems to me that they have God’s blessing, for one of them has been saved from being hanged, the other from being killed by a lance, and both of them from being devoured by wild beasts. So let them do as they wish.’ She therefore turned to them, and said: ‘If you have really set your hearts on becoming husband and wife, so be it; you shall have my blessing, the wedding can be celebrated here at Liello’s expense, and after you are married you can safely leave it to me to make peace between you and your kinsfolk.’ So there they were married, and Pietro’s enormous joy was only surpassed by that of Agnolella. The noble lady gave them as splendid a wedding as could possibly be arranged in her mountain retreat, and it was there that they tasted the first exquisite fruits of their love. Some days later, guarded by a powerful escort, they returned with the lady on horseback to Rome, where, on finding that Pietro’s kinsfolk were greatly angered by what he had done, she succeeded in restoring him to their good graces. And afterwards, he and Agnolella lived to a ripe old age in great peace and happiness. FOURTH STORYRicciardo Manardi is discovered by Messer Lizio da Valbona with his daughter, whom he marries, and remains on good terms with her father. Elissa, falling silent, listened as her companions lauded her tale, and the queen called upon Filostrato to tell his story. Laughing, he began as follows:

• From Carmina (-50)

  At, marite, ita me iuuent caelites, nihilo minus 190 pulcer es, neque te Venus Neglegit. sed abit dies. perge ne remorare. Non diu remoratus es. iam uenis. bona te Venus 195 iuuerit, quoniam palam Quae cupis capis et bonum non abscondis amorem. Ille pulueris Africei siderumque micantium 200 subducat numerum prius, Qui uostri numerare uolt multa milia ludei. Ludite ut lubet et breui liberos date. non decet 205 tam uetus sine liberis Nomen esse, sed indidem semper ingenerari. Torquatus uolo paruulus matris e gremio suae 210 porrigens teneras manus, Dulce rideat ad patrem semihiante labello. Sit suo similis patri Mallio et facile inscieis 215 noscitetur ab omnibus, Et pudicitiam suo matris indicet ore. Talis illius a bona matre laus genus approbet, 220 qualis unica ab optima Matre Telemacho manet fama Penelopeo. Claudite ostia uirgines. lusimus satis. at bonei 225 coniuges, bene uiuite et Munere assidue ualentem exercete iuuentam. LXII IVVENES Vesper adest, iuuenes, consurgite: Vesper Olympo exspectata diu uix tandem lumina tollit. surgere iam tempus, iam pinguis linquere mensas, iam ueniet uirgo, iam dicetur hymenaeus. Hymen O Hymenaee, Hymen ades O Hymenaee! 5 VIRGINES Cernitis, innuptae, iuuenes? consurgite contra; nimirum Oetaeos ostendit noctifer ignes. sic certest; uiden ut perniciter exsiluere? non temere exsiluere, canent quod uisere par est. Hymen O Hymenaee, Hymen ades O Hymenaee! 10 IVVENES Non facilis nobis, aequalis, palma parata est, aspicite, innuptae secuta ut meditata requirunt. non frustra meditantur, habent memorabile quod sit, nec mirum, penitus quae tota mente laborant. nos alio mentes, alio diuisimus aures, 15 iure igitur uincemur, amat uictoria curam. quare nunc animos saltem committite uestros, dicere iam incipient, iam respondere decebit. Hymen O Hymenaee, Hymen ades O Hymenaee. VIRGINES Hespere, qui caelo fertur crudelior ignis? 20 qui natam possis complexu auellere matris, complexu matris retinentem auellere natam, et iuueni ardenti castam donare puellam. quid faciunt hostes capta crudelius urbe? Hymen O Hymenaee, Hymen ades O Hymenaee! 25 IVVENES Hespere, qui caelo lucet iucundior ignis? qui desponsa tua firmes conubia flamma, quae pepigere uiri, pepigerunt ante parentes, nec iunxere prius quam se tuus extulit ardor. quid datur a diuis felici optatius hora? 30 Hymen O Hymenaee, Hymen ades O Hymenaee! VIRGINES Hesperus e nobis, aequalis, abstulit unam. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [Hymen O Hymenaee, Hymen ades O Hymenaee! IVVENES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Namque tuo aduentu uigilat custodia semper, nocte latent fures, quos idem saepe reuertens, Hespere, mutato comprendis nomine eosdem. 35 at libet innuptis ficto te carpere questu. quid tum, si carpunt, tacita quem mente requirunt? Hymen O Hymenaee, Hymen ades O Hymenaee! VIRGINES

• From Carmina (-50)

  his corpus tremulum complectens undique uestis candida purpurea talos incinxerat ora, at roseo niueae residebant uertice uittae, aeternumque manus carpebant rite laborem. 310 laeua colum molli lana retinebat amictum, dextera tum leuiter deducens fila supinis formabat digitis, tum prono in pollice torquens libratum tereti uersabat turbine fusum, atque ita decerpens aequabat semper opus dens, 315 laneaque aridulis haerebant morsa labellis, quae prius in leui fuerant exstantia filo: ante pedes autem candentis mollia lanae uellera uirgati custodibant calathisci. haec tum clarisona pellentes uellera uoce 320 talia diuino fuderunt carmine fata, carmine, perfidiae quod post nulla arguet aetas. O decus eximium magnis uirtutibus augens, Emathiae tutamen opis, clarissime nato, accipe, quod laeta tibi pandunt luce sorores, 325 ueridicum oraclum: sed uos, quae fata secuntur, currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. adueniet tibi iam portans optata maritis Hesperus, adueniet fausto cum sidere coniunx, quae tibi flexanimo mentis perfundat amorem, 330 languidulosque paret tecum coniungere somnos, leuia substernens robusto brachia collo. currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. nulla domus tales umquam contexit amores, nullus amor tali coniunxit foedere amantes, 335 qualis adest Thetidi, qualis concordia Peleo. currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. nascetur uobis expers terroris Achilles, hostibus haud tergo, sed forti pectore notus, qui persaepe uago uictor certamine cursus 340 flammea praeuertet celeris uestigia ceruae. currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. non illi quisquam bello se conferet heros, cum Phrygii Teucro manabunt sanguine campi, Troicaque obsidens longinquo moenia bello, 345 periuri Pelopis uastabit tertius heres. currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. illius egregias uirtutes claraque facta saepe fatebuntur natorum in funere matres, cum incuruo canos soluent a uertice crines, 350 putridaque infirmis uariabunt pectora palmis. currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. namque uelut densas praecerpens cultor aristas sole sub ardenti flauentia demetit arua, . . . . . . . . Troiugenum infesto prosternens corpora ferro. 355 currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. testis erit magnis uirtutibus unda Scamandri, quae passim rapido diffunditur Hellesponto, cuius iter caesis angustans corporum aceruis alta tepefaciet permixta flumina caede. 360 currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. denique testis erit morti quoque reddita praeda, cum teres excelso coaceruatum aggere bustum excipiet niueos perculsae uirginis artus. currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. 365 nam simul ac fessis dederit fors copiam Achiuis urbis Dardaniae Neptunia soluere uincla, alta Polyxenia madefient caede sepulcra: quae, uelut ancipiti succumbens uictima ferro, proiciet truncum summisso poplite corpus. 370 currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. quare agite optatos animi coniungite amores. accipiat coniunx felici foedere diuam, dedatur cupido iam dudum nupta marito. currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. 375 non illam nutrix orienti luce reuisens hesterno collum poterit circumdare filo, currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. anxia nec mater discordis maesta puellae secubitu caros mittet sperare nepotes. 380 currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi. talia praefantes quondam felicia Pelei carmina diuino cecinerunt pectore Parcae. praesentes namque ante domos inuisere castas heroum, et sese mortali ostendere coetu, 385 caelicolae nondum spreta pietate solebant. saepe pater diuum templo in fulgente reuisens, annua cum festis uenissent sacra diebus, conspexit terra centum procumbere tauros.