One striking exception was seated in the very front row. This professor had no interest in his research or his academic prowess. No, her interests were far more profligate, and it seemed to Gabriel that she was flaunting them now, her pink tongue darting out to moisten crimson lips. She was twisted. Predatory. And Gabriel was made very uncomfortable by the fact that she was staring at him with serpentine eyes, while sitting in the same room as Julia. He knew that his past lurked around every corner, but God help him if the two women ever met.
Dragging his eyes away from the blond professor, he forced a smile at the audience. He quickly sought out Julia’s pretty face and drew strength from her warm expression, and then he began.
“The title of my lecture is Lust in Dante’s Inferno: The Deadly Sin against the Self. Immediately, one might wonder why lust would be a sin against the self since it is always directed toward another — the use of another human being for personal, sexual gratification.”
A muffled snort reached Gabriel’s ears from the front row, but he ignored it, his reaction telegraphed by a noticeable tightening of his expression.
“Dante’s notions of sin are shaped largely by the writings of St. Thomas Aquinas. In his famous Summa Theologiae, Aquinas argues that any evil action or sin is a form of self-destruction. He assumes that human beings have a nature that is supposed to be rational and good. Aquinas conceives of this nature, that of the rational animal, as being created by God specifically to pursue goodness, more specifically, the virtues.
“When a human being departs from this natural purpose, she injures herself, for she does what she was not intended to do. She wars against herself and her nature.”
Miss Peterson leaned forward, as if she were paying rapt attention.
“Why does Aquinas hold this peculiar view of sin?
“One reason is because he accepts Boethius’ assertion that goodness and being are convertible. In other words, anything that exists has some goodness in it because God made it. And no matter how marred or broken or sinful that being is, it still maintains some goodness so long as it exists.”
Gabriel pressed a button, and his first slide appeared on the screen to his left. Julia recognized it as Botticelli’s illustration of Lucifer.
“According to this view, no one, not even Lucifer encased in ice at the bottom of Dante’s Inferno, is wholly evil. Evil can only feed off of goodness like a parasite; if all the goodness of a creature were eliminated, the creature in question would no longer exist.”
Gabriel felt a pair of cunning eyes fixate on him, mocking him and his silly recognition of concepts so bourgeois as good and evil.
He cleared his throat. “It’s a foreign way of thinking to many of us — the idea that even a fallen angel condemned to live out his days in the Inferno has some goodness left in him.” His eyes wandered over to Julia’s where they rested just long enough for her to see something pleading in them. “Goodness that begs to be recognized, despite the fallen angel’s sad and desperate addiction to sin.”
Another Botticelli illustration, one of Dante and Beatrice and the fixed stars of Paradise, was displayed on the screen. Julia recognized it as the same scene Gabriel had showed her from his private collection.
“Against the backdrop of good and evil, consider the characters of Dante and Beatrice. They have a relationship that typifies courtly love. In the context of The Divine Comedy, Beatrice is connected with Virgil. She appeals to him to guide her beloved Dante through Hell because she is unable to travel there, owing to her permanent residence in Paradise. In making the connection between Beatrice and Virgil, Dante is expressing his notion that courtly love is tied to reason rather than passion.”
At the mention of Beatrice, Julia began to fidget, keeping her face down lest it give anything away. Paul noticed her movements and misread-ing them, took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. They were seated too far away for Gabriel to see what was going on, but he observed that Paul had turned toward Julia, his hand disappearing near her lap. The sight distracted him momentarily.
He coughed, and Julia’s eyes flew to his as she hastily withdrew her hand.
“But what of lust? If love is the rabbit, then lust is the wolf. Dante says so explicitly when he identifies lust as a sin of wolf-like incontinence — a sin in which passion overtakes reason.”
At this remark, Christa slid to the very edge of her seat, leaning forward just enough so that her cle**age was visible from the podium. Unfortunately for her, Gabriel was too busy posting the next slide, Rodin’s sculpture Le Baisir, to notice.
“Dante places Paolo and Francesca in the Circle of the Lustful. Surprisingly, the story of their downfall is linked with the courtly love tradition.
At the time of their lustful indulgence, they were engaged in reading about the adultery between Lancelot and Queen Guinevere.” Gabriel grinned mischievously. “Perhaps this was the medieval equivalent of p**n -fuelled foreplay.”
Polite laughter echoed across the lecture hall.
“In the case of Paolo and Francesca, passion overtook reason, which should have told them that since one of them was joined to another, they should keep their hands to themselves.”
Gabriel glared meaningfully at Paul. But Paul thought the glare was directed elsewhere, possibly to Julia or one of the women sitting in front of him, so he did nothing. At Paul’s lack of reaction, Gabriel’s blue eyes grew green like a dragon’s. All that was lacking from his display was the breathing of fire.
“Perhaps this is similar to the proprietary relationship that exists between a couple when they are courting. If someone else were to start indulging in some of the special delights that should be reserved for the courting couple, no doubt anger and jealousy would result.” Gabriel’s voice grew sharp.
Julia flinched and shifted slightly to her left, away from Paul.
“But the fact that Dante sees in Lancelot and Guinevere and Paolo and Francesca a corruption of the courtly love tradition shows that he recognizes the very real dangers facing his attachment to Beatrice. If Dante’s passion were to overtake his reason, it would ruin their lives and expose them to scandal. So the fate of Paolo and Francesca is a very personal warning to Dante for him to keep his affection for Beatrice chaste. Which is no easy task given her great beauty and allurements, and the depth and degree of his desire for her.”
Julia blushed.
“Let me be clear, despite the fact that they were separated from one another for years, Dante aches for her. He wants her, and he wants all of her. His chastity is made all the more virtuous because of the strength and desperation of his desire.”
While he paused, the serpentine eyes followed Gabriel’s gaze back to Julia before making eye contact with him. He glared in response and continued.
“In Dante’s philosophy, lust is a misplaced love, but a kind of love nonetheless. For this reason, it is the least evil of the seven deadly sins, and that is why Dante locates the Circle of the Lustful just underneath Limbo.
Lust deals with the greatest of earthly pleasures…”
Gabriel’s eyes darted in Julia’s direction, and she stared back at him, transfixed.
“Sex is properly understood to be not only physical, but spiritual — an ecstatic union of two bodies and two souls, meant to mimic the joy and ecstasy of union with the Divine in Paradise. Two bodies joined together in pleasure. Two souls joined through the connection between two bodies and the whole-hearted, enthusiastic, selfless giving of the entire self.”
Julia tried not to squirm in her seat as she recalled how she felt the other night when Gabriel’s mouth sucked her fingers, one by one, cleaning them of chocolate cake. The room began to feel more than a little warm, and several people shifted in their seats.
“It’s pedantic perhaps to point out that if one holds back and doesn’t give one’s entire self during intercourse, orgasm will be eluded. The result is tension, frustration, and an unhappy partner. The moment of orgasm is a foretaste of absolute transcendence and wholehearted, rapturous pleasure.
The kind of pleasure in which all of one’s deepest urges and longings are wholly and heart-stoppingly satisfied.”
Gabriel smiled to himself as Julia crossed and uncrossed her legs, reveling in her reaction as he paused to take a sip of water.
“The idea of shared orgasm, one partner’s ecstasy tripping the other’s, highlights the shared intimacy of physical and spiritual union. Panting, twisting, touching, yearning, giving, and finally and most gloriously, coming.”
Gabriel paused as he struggled not to gaze at Julia, and thus draw attention to her flushed and downcast face. He cleared his throat and smirked slightly. “Does anyone feel faint?”
Cheerful but reserved laughter echoed around the hall, and Christa lifted her hair away from her neck and fanned herself with a copy of Gabriel’s book.
“I believe my words have illustrated Dante’s thesis, namely, that lust is powerful enough to distract the mind, which is the faculty of reason, and prompt it to focus on earthly, carnal concerns rather than rising above to contemplate the heavenly concerns, namely, God. No doubt some of you would rather be rushing home to your lover’s embrace than remaining here to listen to the rest of my dry lecture.”