Surprise

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)

  "While sitting at my desk this A. M. reading a circular of the Loyal Legion a very curious thing happened to me, such as I have never experienced. It was perfectly real, so real that it took some minutes to recover from. It seems to me like a direct intromission into some other world. I never had anything approaching it before sale when dreaming at night. I was wide awake, of course. But this was the feeling. I had only just sat down and become interested in the circular, when I seemed to love myself for a minute and then found myself in the top story of a high building very white and shining and clean, with a noble window immediately at the right of where I sat. Through this window I looked out upon a marvelous reach of landscape entirely new. I never had before such a sense of infinity in nature, such superb stretches of light and color and cleanness. I know that for the space of three minutes I was entirely lost, for when I began to come to, so to speak,—sitting in that other world, I debated for three or four minutes more as to which was dream and which was reality. Sitting there I forgot a faint sense of C.... [the town in which the writer was][131], away off and dim at first. Then I remember thinking 'Why, I used to live in C....; perhaps I am going back.' Slowly C.... did come back, and I found myself at my desk again. For a few minutes the process of determining where I was very funny. But the whole experience was perfectly delightful, there was such a sense of brilliancy and clearness and lightness about it. I suppose it lasted in all about seven minutes or ten minutes." The hallucinations of fever-delirium are a mixture of pseudo-hallucination, true hallucination, and illusion. Those of opium, hasheesh, and belladonna resemble them in this respect. The following vivid account of a fit of hasheesh-delirium has been given me by a friend:

• From The Erotic Mind (1995)

  Much to Sandra’s surprise, one Friday night Carl whispered just before they drifted off to sleep, “Why don’t you get out the vibrator. Maybe we can use it in the morning.” They both woke up in a sexy mood. Carl requested instructions on vibrator technique, then devised a position in which he could enter her and simultaneously hold the vibrator to her clitoris. She, of course, climaxed explosively, for which she almost felt the need to apologize. But apparently Carl had resolved his rivalry with the vibrator. From that point on a muffled buzzing sound could often be heard in their bedroom. Most people require a minimum of paraphernalia during solo sex—perhaps a little lubricant, a favorite piece of erotica, and a towel or tissues for cleanup. But some masturbatory props can, if discovered, be even more upsetting than Sandra’s vibrator was to Carl. Melody and Herb: Herb’s secret Less than five minutes after she and her husband, Herb, entered my office, Melody was telling her story between sobs. She had arrived home early from an evening meeting and, as always, was looking forward to seeing Herb. She decided to surprise him, so she tiptoed toward the bedroom. There she encountered Herb wearing a lacy nightie he had recently bought for her, feverishly masturbating. What followed might have been comical except that Herb’s secret—that wearing feminine lingerie was a turn-on—threw their tranquil relationship into a crisis. Herb explained that he began eroticizing women’s undergarments as a teenager. He masturbated in the bathroom where his mother and older sister hung their frilly things to dry. At first just the sight of these uniquely female items excited him, but soon the satiny textures captivated him as well. It was exciting to rub against them or put them on. Although you might assume that there was an incestuous element involved, to Herb these were not Mom’s or Sis’s items. They were symbols of his love of femininity. It wasn’t that he felt feminine, but rather he had a desire to be close to the feminine, to revel in its mysteries. Although traditionally feminine in appearance. Melody had little use for frilly garments and often wondered why Herb insisted on giving them to her. Not only did she feel betrayed, she also feared that this secret might be the “tip of the iceberg.” Was he having kinky affairs? Was he gay? Was he a peeping Tom? The man she thought she had known so intimately suddenly seemed a stranger. Luckily, Herb was eager to explain how he developed his unusual interest, how he had often wanted to tell her about it, and how he hoped she might one day come to bed wearing the sexy items he had given her. Nothing was different, he reassured her, except that now she knew that he “masturbated with props.”

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

  A personal experience of my own seems strongly to corroborate this view. For years I have been familiar, during the act of gaping, with a large, round, smooth sensation in tile region of the throat, a sensation characteristic of gaping and nothing else, but which, although I had often wondered about it, never suggested to my mind the motion of anything. The reader probably knows from his own experience exactly what feeling I mean. It was not till one of my students told me, that I learned its objective cause. If we look into the mirror while gaping, we see that at the moment we have this feeling the hanging palate rises by the contraction of its intrinsic muscles. The contraction of these muscles and the compression of the palatine mucous membrane are what occasion the feeling; and I was at first astonished that, coming from so small an organ, it could appear so voluminous. Now the curious point is this—that no sooner had I learned by the eye its objective space-significance, than I found myself enabled mentally to feel it as a movement upwards of a body in the situation of the uvula. When I now have it, my fancy injects it, so to speak, with the image of the rising uvula; and it absorbs the image easily and naturally. In a word, a, muscular contraction gave me a sensation whereof I was unable during forty years to interpret a motor meaning, of which two glances of the eye made me permanently the master. To my mind no further proof is needed of the fact that muscular contraction, merely as such, need not be perceived directly as so much motion through space.

• From The Great Transformation (2006)

  5 Nehemiah did a great deal to revive the fortunes of the city. He managed to increase the population to about ten thousand citizens, and tried to prevent the suppression of the poor by the nobility. But it is significant that his first act in Jerusalem was to build a wall. In his second term of office, which began in about 432, Nehemiah made new legislation to prevent members of the Golah from marrying into the families of the local population, even those Israelites who had not been taken into exile. He expelled the chief priest, Eliashib, because he was married to Sanballat’s daughter. In exile, some of the priests had warned against assimilation with foreigners. Now the Golah was forbidden to marry people who had once been members of the Israelite family, but were now regarded as strangers and enemies. During the exile, the laity had been encouraged to adopt the purity laws of the priests, and this meant that ordinary Jews had to be instructed in the intricacies of the ritual law by experts. One of these was Ezra, who had “devoted himself to the study of the law of Yahweh, to practising it, and to teaching Israel its laws and customs.” 6 He may also have been the minister for Jewish affairs at the Persian court. At this time, the Persians were reviewing the laws of the subject peoples, to make sure that they were compatible with the security of the empire. As a legal expert in Babylonia, Ezra could have worked out a satisfactory modus vivendi between the Torah and the Persian legal system. His mission was to promulgate the Torah in Jerusalem and make it the official law of the land. 7 The biblical writer saw Ezra’s mission as a turning point in the history of his people: he described his journey to Judah as a new exodus and presented Ezra as a new Moses. When he arrived in Jerusalem, Ezra was appalled at what he found. Priests were still colluding with the am ha- aretz, and the people continued to take foreign wives. For a whole day, the inhabitants of Jerusalem had to watch in dismay as the king’s emissary tore his hair and sat down in the street in the posture of deep mourning. Then he summoned all the members of the Golah to a meeting: anybody who refused to attend would be cast out of the community and have his property confiscated. On New Year’s Day, Ezra brought the Torah to the square in front of the Water Gate; standing on a wooden dais and surrounded by the leading citizens, he read the Torah to the crowd, expounding on it as he went along. 8 We have no idea which text he actually read to them, but it was certainly a shock to the people.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  All the same, she swept past your front door the other night when she was on her way to the Arno to bathe her feet and get a breath of fresh air; but she spends most of her time in Laterina. 18 You can regularly see her footmen going the rounds, all carrying a rod in one hand and a bucket in the other as symbols of her authority; and wherever you look you’ll find many of her nobles, such as Baron Ffouljakes, Lord Dung, Viscount Broom-handle, and the Earl of Loosefart, and others, with all of whom I believe you are acquainted, though perhaps you don’t recall them just at present. This, then, if all goes according to plan, is the great lady in whose tender arms we shall place you, in which case you can forget about that girl from Cacavincigli.’ Having been born and bred in Bologna, the physician was unable to grasp the meaning of their words, and told them that the lady would suit him down to the ground. Nor did he have long to wait before the two painters brought him the news of his election to the company. On the morning of the day appointed for the next meeting of the society, the Master invited the pair of them to breakfast, and after the meal he asked them how he was to get there, to which Buffalmacco replied: ‘See here, Master, for reasons you are now about to hear, you will have to be very brave, otherwise you may run into trouble and make things very awkward for us. This evening, after dark, you must contrive to climb up on to one of the raised tombs 19 that were erected just recently outside Santa Maria Novella, wearing one of your most sumptuous robes, for not only does the company require you to be nobly dressed when you are presented for the first time, but since you are gently bred, the Countess is proposing (or so we have been told, for we have never actually met her) to make you a Knight of the Bath 20 at her own expense. And you are to remain on the tomb till we send for you. ‘Now, so that you will know exactly what to expect, I should explain that we shall be sending a black creature with horns to come and fetch you, which, though not very large, will attempt to frighten you by parading up and down before you in the piazza, leaping high in the air, and making loud hissing noises. When it sees that you are not afraid, it will come silently towards you, and as soon as it has drawn near to where you are sitting, you must clamber boldly down from the tomb, and, without invoking God or any of the Saints, leap on to its back.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  They then descended to meet her, and Messer Ansaldo greeted her courteously and reverentially, without any show of unbridled passion, after which they all made their way into a splendid apartment where a huge fire was burning. After having offered her somewhere to sit, Messer Ansaldo said: ‘My lady, if the love I have so long borne you merits any reward, I beseech you to do me the kindness of telling me truthfully why you have come here at this hour of day with so few people to bear you company.’ To which the lady replied, confused and almost in tears: ‘Sir, I am led here, not because I love you or because I pledged you my word, but because I was ordered to come by my husband, who, paying more regard to the labours of your unruly love than to his own or his wife’s reputation, has constrained me to call upon you. And by his command I am ready to submit for this once to your every pleasure.’ Great as Messer Ansaldo’s astonishment had been when the lady arrived, his astonishment on hearing her words was considerably greater; and because he was deeply moved by Gilberto’s liberality, his ardour gradually turned to compassion. ‘My lady,’ he said, ‘since it is as you say, God forbid that I should ever impair the reputation of one who shows compassion for my love. With your consent, therefore, whilst you are under my roof I shall treat you exactly as though you were my sister, and whenever you choose you shall be free to depart, provided that you convey to your husband all the thanks you deem appropriate for the immense courtesy he has shown me, and that you look upon me always in future as your brother and your servant.’ The lady was pleased beyond measure to hear these words. ‘Nothing could ever make me believe,’ she said, ‘in view of your impeccable manners, that my coming to your house would have any other sequel than the one which I see you have made of it, for which I shall always remain in your debt.’ Then, having taken her leave, she returned to Gilberto suitably attended and told him what had happened. And from that day forth, Gilberto and Messer Ansaldo became the closest of loyal friends. After perceiving how liberally Gilberto had behaved towards Messer Ansaldo, and Messer Ansaldo towards the lady, the magician said to Messer Ansaldo, as the latter was about to present him with his fee: ‘Heaven forbid that after observing Gilberto’s generosity in respect of his honour, and yours in respect of your love, I should not be equally generous in respect of my reward. And since I know that you can put this sum of money to good use, I intend that you should keep it.’

• From The Decameron (1353)

  And then afterwards, if you still insist on leaving, you could all go back to the inn together.’ Andreuccio replied that he would rather do without his companions that evening, and that he would place himself entirely at her disposal, if this was what she really wanted. She accordingly went through the motions of sending word to the inn that they should not expect him for supper. Then after a lot of further talk, they sat down to a splendid supper, consisting of several courses, which she cunningly prolonged until darkness had completely fallen. When they got up from table, Andreuccio said he would have to go, but she refused to hear of it under any circumstances, telling him that Naples was no place to wander about in at night, especially if one was a stranger, and that when she had sent word to the inn not to expect him for supper, she had told them he would not be sleeping there either. He swallowed all this, and since, being taken in by appearances, he was enjoying her company, he stayed where he was. After supper, she engaged him, not without her reasons, in a protracted conversation about this and that, and when the night was well advanced she left Andreuccio to sleep in her room, with a page-boy to show him where to find anything he needed, whilst she herself retired into another room with her maidservants. The heat was stifling, and so, on finding himself alone, Andreuccio stripped to his doublet and removed his hose and breeches, and laid them under his bolster. Nature demanded that he should relieve his belly, which was inordinately full, so he asked the page where he could do it, and the boy showed him a door in one of the corners of the room, saying: ‘Go through there.’ Andreuccio passed jauntily through, and chanced to step on to a plank, which came away at its other end from the beam on which it was resting, so that it flew up in the air and fell into the lower regions, taking Andreuccio with it. Although he had fallen from a goodly height, he mercifully suffered no injury; but he got himself daubed from head to foot in the filthy mess with which the place was literally swimming. Now in order to give you a clearer picture of what has preceded and what follows, I shall describe the sort of place it was. In a narrow alleyway, such as we often see between two houses, some boards, and a place to sit, had been rigged up on two beams, running across from one house to the next; and it was one of these boards that had collapsed under Andreuccio’s weight. So finding himself down there in the alley, Andreuccio, cursing his bad luck, began calling out to the boy.

• From Apprenticed to Venus: My Secret Life with Anaïs Nin (2017)

  She shot a frightened look at Renate so I added, “We all went to Harlem, and Hugo—” “Tristine!” Anaïs broke from a young man with his arm around her. With his chiseled nose and even smile, he was handsome as a TV soap star. She quickly enclosed me in a hug, whispering in my ear, “You will keep my secret, won’t you?” “Yes,” I responded, though I wasn’t sure what it was. But when she returned to the side of the young man and nuzzled into him, I guessed that the secret was that they were having an affair. He must be “the other one.” I was impressed how much younger he was than Anaïs. His golden skin shone, and he had sun streaks in his brown hair. His short-sleeved shirt revealed shapely biceps and triceps. With the eagerness of a cocker spaniel, he gave me a firm handshake, and in a full-bodied voice, said, “I’m Rupert Pole, Anaïs’s husband.” I started to giggle, thinking he was joking; his chiseled good looks made him almost cartoonish. Immediately, I noticed that no one else in the group had registered amusement. Anaïs said to the others, “We went dancing one night, Tristine and Caresse Crosby and my book illustrator Ian Hugo.” Then she said to me, “Aren’t you attending that college in Westwood?” “No, I’m downtown at USC.” A lot of people confused UCLA with USC because both universities were in LA, but I was surprised Anaïs didn’t remember it was her husband Hugo Guiler who took us dancing, not Ian Hugo. “I’ll probably go to UCLA for grad school,” I offered. “And what will be your major?” asked a square-jawed man in his early sixties standing on the other side of Anaïs. “English lit,” I answered and told Anaïs, “I’ve been hoping to see one of your books on a syllabus, but the only woman writer I ever see is Emily Dickinson.” “Who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf?” the man quipped in his high-pitched, British-inflected voice. “Have you met Christopher Isherwood?” Anaïs introduced the famous author, who bowed his head and put his hands together like a yogi. In reverence, I gasped. “I read your Berlin Stories in my Twentieth Century Lit class! I loved the structure of separate short stories that together made up the novel.” “Very insightful. Thank you.” His hand moved to the shoulder of an adorable mouse-faced boy standing close to him. “This is Don Bachardy.” Even though Don was at least thirty years his junior, I could tell by the way Isherwood hugged him that they were a couple. Don’s grin revealed a gap between his front teeth. He asked me, “What year are you in college?” I told him I was a junior as Renate pulled on my elbow. She said, “I think your good-looking date is getting worried about you.” The others followed her gaze through the glass wall to Harry Browne brushing wrinkles out of his suit as he rose from his chair.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  ‘You will soon be convinced when you take me to see her, for she will fling her arms round my neck immediately. I could ask for nothing better than the arrangement you suggest.’ ‘In that case,’ said Paganino, ‘let us proceed.’ And so off they went to Paganino’s house, where they entered a large room and Paganino sent for the lady, who came in from another room, composed in appearance and neatly dressed, and walked over to where the two men were standing. But she took no more notice of Messer Ricciardo than if he were some total stranger coming into the house as Paganino’s guest. On seeing this, the judge was greatly astonished, for he had been expecting her to greet him with a display of frenzied rejoicing. ‘Perhaps,’ he thought, ‘the melancholy and prolonged suffering to which I have been subjected, ever since I lost her, have wrought such a change in my appearance that she no longer knows who I am.’ He therefore addressed her as follows: ‘Madam, it was a costly idea of mine to take you fishing with me, for nobody ever experienced so much sorrow as I have endured from the day I lost you, and now it appears, from the coldness of your greeting, that you do not even recognize me. Don’t you see that I am your Messer Ricciardo? Don’t you understand that I came to Monaco fully prepared to offer this gentleman whatever ransom he required, so that I could have you back again and take you away from this house? And are you perhaps unaware that he has been good enough to tell me that he’ll hand you over for whatever sum I choose to pay?’ The lady turned towards him, with the faintest suggestion of a smile on her lips. ‘Are you addressing me, sir?’ she asked. ‘You must surely be mistaking me for someone else, for as far as I can recall, I have never seen you before in

• From The Decameron (1353)

  ‘You will soon be convinced when you take me to see her, for she will fling her arms round my neck immediately. I could ask for nothing better than the arrangement you suggest.’ ‘In that case,’ said Paganino, ‘let us proceed.’ And so off they went to Paganino’s house, where they entered a large room and Paganino sent for the lady, who came in from another room, composed in appearance and neatly dressed, and walked over to where the two men were standing. But she took no more notice of Messer Ricciardo than if he were some total stranger coming into the house as Paganino’s guest. On seeing this, the judge was greatly astonished, for he had been expecting her to greet him with a display of frenzied rejoicing. ‘Perhaps,’ he thought, ‘the melancholy and prolonged suffering to which I have been subjected, ever since I lost her, have wrought such a change in my appearance that she no longer knows who I am.’ He therefore addressed her as follows: ‘Madam, it was a costly idea of mine to take you fishing with me, for nobody ever experienced so much sorrow as I have endured from the day I lost you, and now it appears, from the coldness of your greeting, that you do not even recognize me. Don’t you see that I am your Messer Ricciardo? Don’t you understand that I came to Monaco fully prepared to offer this gentleman whatever ransom he required, so that I could have you back again and take you away from this house? And are you perhaps unaware that he has been good enough to tell me that he’ll hand you over for whatever sum I choose to pay?’ The lady turned towards him, with the faintest suggestion of a smile on her lips. ‘Are you addressing me, sir?’ she asked. ‘You must surely be mistaking me for someone else, for as far as I can recall, I have never seen you before in my life.’ ‘Oh, come now,’ said Messer Ricciardo. ‘Take a good look at me, and if you choose to remember properly, you will soon see that I am your husband, Ricciardo di Chinzica.’ ‘You will forgive me for saying so, sir,’ said the lady, ‘but it is not so proper as you imagine for me to stare at you. And in any case, I have already looked at you sufficiently to know that I have never seen you before.’ Messer Ricciardo supposed her to be doing this because she was afraid of Paganino, in whose presence she was perhaps reluctant to admit that she recognized him. And so, after a while, he asked Paganino if he would kindly allow him to speak with her alone in her room.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Just before Andreuccio reached her, she opened her arms wide and descended three steps to meet him. Then she clasped him round the neck and remained for some time without speaking, as though hindered by a surge of powerful emotion. Finally, her eyes filling with tears, she kissed his brow and said, in a somewhat faltering voice: ‘Oh, Andreuccio my dear, how delighted I am to see you.’ Not knowing what to make of this barrage of affection, he replied, in tones of deep astonishment: ‘My lady, the pleasure is mine.’ Then she took him by the hand, and led him up to the main room of her house, from whence, without another word, she passed with him into her bedroom, which was all fragrant with roses, orange-blossom and other pleasant odours. There he saw an exquisite curtained bed, a large number of dresses hanging from pegs, as is the custom in those parts, and other very beautiful, expensive looking objects. He had never seen such finery before, and was firmly convinced that the lady must be nothing less than a genuine aristocrat. Having made him sit by her side on a chest at the foot of the bed, she began to address him as follows: ‘Andreuccio, I am quite sure you must be astonished at me for embracing you like this and bursting into tears, for you do not know me and it may be that you have never even heard of me before. But you are now to hear something that will possibly increase your astonishment, for the fact is that I am your sister. I have always longed to meet all of my brothers, and now that God has been good enough to allow me to see one of them, I shall no longer die disconsolate when the time comes for me to depart this life. But in case you know nothing of this, I will tell you all about it. ‘Pietro, who is my father as well as yours, lived for many years in Palermo, as I suppose you may have heard. Being a good and amiable man, he was greatly loved there, and he is still loved there to this day by those who knew him. But of all his profound admirers, none loved him more than my mother, who was a widowed lady of gentle birth. Indeed, she loved Pietro so deeply, that she abandoned all fear of her father, her brothers and her good name, and their friendship became so intimate that it led to the birth of the person you see here now, sitting beside you. ‘When I was still a little girl, Pietro’s business called him away from Palermo and he returned to Perugia, leaving my mother and me to fend for ourselves, and as far as I have been able to discover, he never gave either of us another thought.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  And provided that you give me the pledge and intend to keep it, there is every hope of your seeing him soon.’ ‘I will do it, and willingly,’ said the lady. ‘Nothing would bring me greater joy than to see my husband released unharmed and Tedaldo alive.’ Tedaldo now decided that the time had come to make himself known to the lady and reassure her about her husband. ‘Madam,’ he said, ‘in order to set your mind at rest about your husband, I shall have to tell you an important secret, which you must take care never to reveal for as long as you live.’ Since they were alone in a very remote part of the house (the lady being quite disarmed by the pilgrim’s appearance of saintliness), Tedaldo drew forth a ring which he had religiously preserved and which the lady had given him on their last night together, and held it out for her to see, saying: ‘Do you know this ring, madam?’ The lady recognized it at once. ‘I do indeed, sir,’ she replied. ‘I gave it long ago to Tedaldo.’ The pilgrim thereupon stood up straight, and having thrown off his cloak and removed his hood, he addressed her in a Florentine accent, saying: ‘And do you know me, too?’ When the lady saw that it was Tedaldo, she was utterly astonished, and began to tremble with fright, as though she were seeing a ghost. Far from rushing forward to welcome a Tedaldo who had returned from Cyprus, she shrank back in terror from a Tedaldo who had seemingly risen from the grave. ‘Do not be afraid, my lady,’ he said. ‘I really am your Tedaldo. I am alive and well, and whatever you and my brothers may believe, I never died and was never murdered.’ Somewhat reassured by the sound of his voice, the lady looked at him more closely, and having convinced herself that he really was Tedaldo, she burst into tears, flung her arms about his neck, and kissed him, saying: ‘Tedaldo, my sweet Tedaldo, you are welcome!’ ‘My lady,’ said Tedaldo, after embracing and kissing her, ‘there is no time now to exchange more intimate greetings. I must go and arrange for Aldobrandino to be restored to you safe and sound, and trust that you will hear good news of my endeavours before tomorrow evening. Indeed, I fully expect by tonight to hear that he is safe, in which case I should like to come and tell you all about it in a more leisurely way than I have time for at present.’ Donning once again his pilgrim’s cloak and hood, he kissed the lady a second time, assured her that everything would be all right, and left her. He then proceeded to the place where Aldobrandino, more preoccupied with the dread of his impending doom than with the hope of his future release, was being held prisoner.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  No sooner had the Sultan agreed to Sicurano’s request than Sicurano burst into tears and threw himself on his knees at the Sultan’s feet, at the same time losing his manly voice and the desire to persist in his masculine role. ‘My lord,’ he said, ‘I myself am the poor unfortunate Zinevra, who for six long years has toiled her way through the world disguised as a man, a victim of the false and wicked calumnies of this traitor Ambrogiuolo and of the iniquitous cruelty of this man who handed her over to be killed by one of his servants and eaten by wolves.’ Tearing open the front of her dress and displaying her bosom, she made it clear to the Sultan and to everyone else that she was indeed a woman. Then she rounded on Ambrogiuolo, haughtily demanding to know when he had ever slept with her, as he had claimed. But Ambrogiuolo, seeing who it was, simply stood there and said nothing, as though he were too ashamed to open his mouth. The Sultan, who had always believed her to be a man, was so astonished on seeing and hearing all this, that he kept thinking that he must be dreaming and that his eyes and ears were deceiving him. But once he had recovered from his astonishment and realized that it was true, he lauded Zinevra to the skies for her virtuous way of life, her constancy, and her strength of character. And having ordered women’s clothes of the finest quality to be brought, and provided her with a retinue of ladies, he complied with her earlier request and spared Bernabò from the death he assuredly deserved. On recognizing his wife, Bernabò threw himself in tears at her feet asking her forgiveness, and although he merited no such favour, she graciously conceded it and helped him up again, clasping him in a fond and wifely embrace. The Sultan next commanded that Ambrogiuolo should instantly be taken to some upper part of the city, tied to a pole in the sun, smeared with honey, and left there until he fell of his own accord; and this was done. He then decreed that all of Ambrogiuolo’s possessions, which amounted in value to more than ten thousand doubloons, should be handed over to the lady. And for his own part, he put on a splendid feast, at which Bernabò, being Lady Zinevra’s husband, and the most excellent Lady Zinevra herself were the guests of honour. And in addition he presented her with jewels, gold and silver plate, and money, all of which came to a further ten thousand doubloons in value.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Eventually, Masetto, being unable to cope with all their demands, decided that by continuing to be dumb any longer he might do himself some serious injury. And so one night, when he was with the Abbess, he untied his tongue and began to talk. ‘I have always been given to understand, ma’am,’ he said, ‘that whereas a single cock is quite sufficient for ten hens, ten men are hard put to satisfy one woman, and yet here am I with nine of them on my plate. I can’t endure it any longer, not at any price, and as a matter of fact I’ve been on the go so much that I’m no longer capable of delivering the goods. So you’ll either have to bid me farewell or come to some sort of an arrangement.’ When she heard him speak, the lady was utterly amazed, for she had always believed him to be dumb. ‘What is all this?’ she said. ‘I thought you were supposed to be dumb.’ ‘That’s right, ma’am, I was,’ said Masetto, ‘but I wasn’t born dumb. It was owing to an illness that I lost the power of speech, and, praise be to God, I’ve recovered it this very night.’ The lady believed him implicitly, and asked him what he had meant when he had talked about having nine on his plate. Masetto explained how things stood, and when the Abbess heard, she realized that every single one of the nuns possessed sharper wits than her own. Being of a tactful disposition, she decided there and then that rather than allow Masetto to go away and spread tales concerning the convent, she would come to some arrangement with her nuns in regard to the matter. Their old steward had died a few days previously. And so, with Masetto’s consent, they unanimously decided, now that they all knew what the others had been doing, to persuade the people living in the neighbourhood that after a prolonged period of speechlessness, his ability to talk had been miraculously restored by the nuns’ prayers and the virtues of the saint after whom the convent was named, and they appointed him their new steward. They divided up his various functions among themselves in such a way that he was able to do them all justice. And although he fathered quite a number of nunlets and monklets, it was all arranged so discreetly that nothing leaked out until after the death of the Abbess, by which time Masetto was getting on in years and simply wanted to retire to his village on a fat pension. Once his wishes became known, they were readily granted.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Next morning, taking another lady with her for company, his mother left the house as though intending to go for a walk, made her way to Federigo’s little cottage, and asked to see him. For several days, the weather had been unsuitable for hawking, so Federigo was attending to one or two little jobs in his garden, and when he heard, to his utter astonishment, that Monna Giovanna was at the front-door and wished to speak to him, he happily rushed there to greet her. When she saw him coming, she advanced with womanly grace to meet him. Federigo received her with a deep bow, whereupon she said: ‘Greetings, Federigo!’ Then she continued: ‘I have come to make amends for the harm you have suffered on my account, by loving me more than you ought to have done. As a token of my esteem, I should like to take breakfast with you this morning, together with my companion here, but you must not put yourself to any trouble.’ ‘My lady,’ replied Federigo in all humility, ‘I cannot recall ever having suffered any harm on your account. On the contrary I have gained so much that if ever I attained any kind of excellence, it was entirely because of your own great worth and the love I bore you. Moreover I can assure you that this visit which you have been generous enough to pay me is worth more to me than all the money I ever possessed, though I fear that my hospitality will not amount to very much.’ So saying, he led her unassumingly into the house, and thence into his garden, where, since there was no one else he could call upon to chaperon her, he said: ‘My lady, as there is nobody else available, this good woman, who is the wife of the farmer here, will keep you company whilst I go and see about setting the table.’

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Whilst he was contentedly addressing his meal, and admiring the solitude of his surroundings, there came into the garden two young girls, each about fourteen years old, who were as fair as threads of gold, their hair a mass of ringlets surmounted by a garland of periwinkle flowers, and looking more like angels than anything else, so fine and delicate were their features. Their bodies were clothed in sheer linen dresses, white as driven snow, with closely fitting bodices and bell-shaped skirts cascading down from their waists to their feet. The girl in front was carrying upon her shoulders a pair of fishnets, which she held with her left hand, whilst in her right she carried a long pole. The girl behind had a frying-pan slung over her left shoulder, a bundle of sticks beneath her left arm, and a trivet in her left hand, whilst in her other hand she held a cruse of oil and a small lighted torch. The sight of these two girls filled the King with surprise, and he waited with interest to see what it might import. The girls came forward, chaste and modest in their bearing, and curtsied to the King. Then they walked to the edge of the fishpond, where the one with the frying-pan put it down along with all the other things she was carrying and took the pole from her companion, after which they both waded into the pool till the water came up to their breasts. One of Messer Neri’s servants forthwith lit the fire on the bank of the pool, and pouring the oil into the frying-pan, he placed it on the trivet and waited for the girls to throw him out some fish. And whilst one of them poked about in the places where she knew the fish to be hiding, the other wielded her nets to such good purpose that within a short space of time, to the huge delight of the King who was watching their every movement, they caught fish by the score. Some of these they threw to the servant, who tossed them almost before they were dead into the frying-pan; but then they began to pick out some of the finest specimens, as they had been instructed, and to throw them up on the table in front of the King, the Count, and their father. The sight of these fishes writhing about on the table was marvellously pleasing to the King, who in his turn picked some of them up and politely tossed them back to the girls. And in this fashion they sported for some little time until the servant had cooked the ones he had been given, which at Messer Neri’s bidding were placed before the King, more by way of an entremets than as a specially choice or delectable dish.

• From Apprenticed to Venus: My Secret Life with Anaïs Nin (2017)

  I felt as adopted children must when, at last, they meet their real mother and are too full of jumbled emotions to speak. Artfully, she refocused the conversation. “Which of the women characters in my novels did you identify with?” The question took me by surprise. I hadn’t thought about myself as any of the characters; they were all older than me. I wasn’t like the adulterous adventuress Sabina, or like Djuna, her intuitive, wise friend. “Maybe I’m like Stella because she is an actress and fearful,” I said. “Or maybe Lillian, because she is awkward and impetuous?” Anaïs nodded. I said, “I see you as Djuna because you are feminine and wise like her.” She smiled. I just had to ask: “Where did the character of Sabina come from?” Anaïs raised one arched eyebrow. “My four women characters are all parts of myself and of all women. I believe that all women have these characters in them: Sabina, the seductress; Djuna, our wisdom; Lillian, driven to action by anxiety; and Stella, the fearful, reclusive one.” “I don’t have a Sabina.” “You don’t have a seductress? Are you sure? I think you will realize that you do.” I thought about Sabina in A Spy in the House of Love, cheating on her husband. That would never be me. Anaïs explained, “Think of Sabina as akin to the goddess Artemis, with her hounds and her bow and quiver of arrows chasing her prey. It’s the love of the hunt.” Suddenly I had an inkling what Anaïs meant. When I was twelve, soon after my father left, my girlfriend and I had hunted the San Fernando Valley for guys to flirt with. For three Halloweens in a row, we dressed in the same black leotard cat costumes that revealed our pubertal curves, reveling in our power to ensnare the eyes of older boys and men as we sauntered through Encino Park at night. We put on eye makeup and stuffed our bras and hunted for boys at movie matinees, bowling alleys, and miniature golf courses, thrilling to the game of pulling in guys like reeling in fish. It was the newness of the encounters, the rush of triumphant power, the intoxication of arousal when we made out with them, the giddiness of telling each other afterwards how the guy had tried to cop a feel. I marveled that Anaïs had intuited I’d been a pubescent huntress, like Sabina searching for new encounters and untried caresses, when I’d forgotten it until just then. The nuns in high school had succeeded in making me demure, but now the wild thrill of those hot summer nights and the unthinking pleasure of kissing strangers in the air-conditioned La Reina theater came back to me and mingled with the recent charge I’d experienced when I’d felt Jean-Jacques’s penis. Yet I could not have articulated any of this and instead said to Anaïs, “Well, I know I don’t have a Djuna.”

• From Apprenticed to Venus: My Secret Life with Anaïs Nin (2017)

  WHEN THE PROP PLANE CARRYING Hugo bumped to a stop on the beach landing strip, Anaïs trudged through the sand to greet him. A cabdriver waited to take them directly to the American Hotel. It was luxurious compared to the El Mirador, where gossiping maids and the patron had seen her with Rupert. She intended to tell Hugo she wanted a divorce as soon as they were alone in their penthouse suite. After he’d tipped the hotel porters and appreciated the panoramic view of the ocean from fourteen floors above, he said soberly, “You’ve heard the news that Gandhi was assassinated?” “Yes, I’m grieving with the world.” They communed for a moment in silence, cooled by the hotel air-conditioning, he sitting on the king-sized bed, she perched on a settee covered with a tropical print, mourning the loss of a hero who had embodied their shared ideals. “Well, the world goes on,” Hugo said softly. “I brought three little surprises that should cheer you, dear. I hope you like them.” Poor Hugo, she thought, I’m sure I’ll like them more than you will like my surprise. He pulled a gift-wrapped box from his leather satchel. She could tell by its size and shape what was inside: Chanel 22, Coco Chanel’s personal scent that the famous designer allowed only a few select customers to buy. Receiving this almost illicit nectar always gave Anaïs a thrill but accepting it did not make her announcement of wanting a divorce easier. He leaned back, hands clasped behind his head, and told her his second surprise. “I resigned from the bank. I’m a free man!” He grinned. To her increasing alarm, he explained that the conflict between his banker self and his artist self had reached a crisis and that with his psychoanalyst’s help he’d decided to become, as she, a full-time artist. “But what about money?” Anaïs gasped. “I took an early payout on my pension.” “No!” Her hands gripped her face. “Your pension was there to take care of us in old age,” she moaned. “Anaïs, it’s fine. I’ve paid off our debts and we still have money to invest.” “Invest!” “Dearest, that’s what I do for other people. I can do it for us. Leave that part to me.” How she hated his patronizing tone. “This affects us both!” she cried. A divorce attorney she had once consulted in New York had told her that half of Hugo’s pension would be hers if they separated. Now what could she expect? They had always rented and owned no property, except for the rat-infested shack she’d recently purchased. A terrifying thought seized her. She had driven him to this disastrous act. Hugo had given up his pension in order to keep her from divorcing him. He had put her in checkmate. He knows. He’s always known I was cheating, she realized. He’s telling me that it was the bargain he made, offering me silence, in order to hold onto me.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  When the entire populace was assembled in front of the church, Friar Cipolla began to preach his sermon, never suspecting for a moment that any of his things had been tampered with. He harangued his audience at great length, carefully stressing what was required of them, and on reaching the point where he was to display the Angel Gabriel’s feather, he first recited the Confiteor11 and caused two torches to be lit; then, throwing back the cowl from his head, he carefully unwound the taffeta and drew forth the casket, which, after a few words in praise and commendation of the Angel Gabriel and his relic, he proceeded to open. When he saw that it was full of coal, Guccio Balena was the last person he suspected of playing him such a trick, for he knew him to be incapable of rising to such heights of ingenuity. Nor did he even blame the man for being so careless as to allow others to do it, but inwardly cursed his own stupidity in entrusting his things to Guccio’s care, knowing full well, as he did, that he was negligent, disobedient, careless and witless. Without changing colour in the slightest, however, he raised his eyes and hands to Heaven, and in a voice that could be heard by all the people present, he exclaimed: ‘Almighty God, may Thy power be forever praised!’ Then, closing the casket and turning to the people, he said: ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I must explain to you that when I was still very young, I was sent by my superior into those parts where the sun appears,12 with express instructions to seek out the privileges of the Porcellana,13 which, though they cost nothing to seal and deliver, bring far more profit to others than to ourselves. ‘So away I went, and after setting out from Venison, I visited the Greek Calends, then rode at a brisk pace through the Kingdom of Algebra and through Bordello, eventually reaching Bedlam, and not long afterwards, almost dying of thirst, I arrived in Sardintinia. But why bother to mention every single country to which I was directed by my questing spirit? After crossing the Straits of Penury, I found myself passing through Funland and Laughland, both of which countries are thickly populated, besides containing a lot of people. Then I went on to Liarland, where I found a large number of friars belonging to various religious orders including my own, all of whom were forsaking a life of discomfort for the love of God, and paying little heed to the exertions of others so long as they led to their own profit. In all these countries, I coined a great many phrases, which turned out to be the only currency I needed.

• From The Decameron (1353)

  Now Titus was by chance come at that juncture to the prætorium and looking the wretched condemned man in the face and hearing why he had been doomed to die, suddenly knew him for Gisippus; whereupon, marvelling at his sorry fortune and how he came to be in Rome and desiring most ardently to succour him, but seeing no other means of saving him than to accuse himself and thus excuse him, he thrust forward in haste and cried out, saying, 'Marcus Varro, call back the poor man whom thou hast condemned, for that he is innocent. I have enough offended against the Gods with one crime, in slaying him whom thine officer found this morning dead, without willing presently to wrong them with the death of another innocent.' Varro marvelled and it irked him that all the prætorium should have heard him; but, being unable, for his own honour's sake, to forbear from doing that which the laws commanded, he caused bring back Gisippus and in the presence of Titus said to him, 'How camest thou to be so mad that, without suffering any torture, thou confessedst to that which thou didst not, it being a capital matter? Thou declaredst thyself to be he who slew the man yesternight, and now this man cometh and saith that it was not thou, but he that slew him.'