Gabriel’s Inferno Trilogy by Sylvain Reynard Page 0,143

expression softened and a sweet smile spread across his face.

“The joys and beauty of sexual intimacy, expressed in the unifying act of sexual intercourse, are the natural outgrowth of love. In this case, as should be clear, sex is not identical with lust. Hence the modern distinction made in contemporary parlance between, forgive my vulgarity, fucking and making love. But sex is not identical with love either, as the courtly love tradition demonstrates. One can love one’s friend chastely and passionately without engaging in sexual intercourse with her.

“In Dante’s Paradiso, lust is transformed into charity, the truest, purest manifestation of love. In Paradise, the soul is free from longing, for all her desires are satisfied, and she is filled with joy. She no longer has guilt over her previous sins but enjoys absolute freedom and fulfillment. However, time prevents me from giving a more complete discussion of Paradise.

“In Dante’s Divine Comedy, we find the dichotomy of lust and charity and a powerful manifestation of the chastity of courtly love, as typified by the relationship between Dante and Beatrice. This ideal of courtly love is perhaps best expressed in the words of Beatrice, herself, ‘Apparuit iam beatitudo vestra.’ That is, ‘Now your blessedness appears.’ Truer words were never spoken. Thank you.”

The lecture hall erupted in polite applause and low murmurings of approval. The Professor then began to field questions from the audience. In typical fashion, full time faculty members were the first to speak, while graduate students waited patiently for their turn.

(For Academia, like Europe in the Middle Ages, was organized under a class system.)

Julia sat very still, trying to absorb what she thought she’d heard during Gabriel’s lecture. She was repeating some of his more profound statements to herself when Paul leaned over to whisper in her ear.

“Watch this. Emerson is going to ignore Christa.”

From their vantage point, they couldn’t see Christa’s cleavage (which was a mercy). She was still leaning forward, now with her hand in the air, trying to gain The Professor’s attention. He seemed to pass over her deliberately, pointing at other questioners and offering reasoned responses. Eventually, Professor Martin stood up in order to indicate that question period had come to an end. Only then did Christa lower her hand, a scowl darkening her fine features.

Another round of applause was given and received, and Gabriel stepped off the platform. He was greeted immediately by an average-sized brunette, who looked like she was a professor in her mid to late thirties. The two shook hands.

Paul snorted. “Did you see that? He wasn’t going to allow Christa to ask a question in an open forum. He’s worried she’ll stand up and throw her bra at him, or hold up an ‘I heart Emerson’ poster.”

Julia giggled and watched as the brunette professor chatted with Gabriel before stepping aside to speak to someone else.

“I was surprised no one corrected Emerson on his mistake.” Paul scratched at his sideburns thoughtfully.

“What mistake?”

“He attributed ‘Apparuit iam beatitudo vestra’ to Beatrice, but we all know it was Dante. He says those words in the second section of La Vita Nuova, when he meets Beatrice for the first time.”

Julia knew this, of course, but would never have commented on it. So she remained silent.

Paul shrugged. “I’m sure it was a slip of the tongue. He can quote those texts from memory in Italian and English. I just thought it was funny that Professor Perfect made a very public mistake and no one corrected him.” He chuckled to himself. “Maybe that was why Christa put up her hand.”

Julia nodded. She knew that Gabriel’s error had been intentional. But she would tell no one, especially not Paul.

His eyes passed over her admiringly. “You look pretty today. You always look pretty, but today you’re just—glowing.” His face morphed into a serious expression. “I hope I’m not stepping on your boyfriend’s toes by telling you that. What was his name again?”

“Owen.”

“Well, I can see it in your eyes. You’re obviously glad to be back together with him. After weeks of seeing you sad, I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“Thank you,” she murmured.

“So why the dress?”

She peered around the room. “I didn’t know if people dressed up for these occasions. I knew all the professors would be here, and I wanted to look nice.”

Paul laughed. “Most academic women don’t care about fashion.” He shook his head and gently touched her hand. “I hope your ex treats you right this time. Or I’ll have to go to Philadelphia and kick his ass.”

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