Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 122946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
“Should I call for more?”
Hearing his voice, I met his gaze. He watched me carefully.
I was less hungry but still very confused. “What happened? Did I faint again?”
“Not at all. You did something much stranger, young one.” He leaned forward, taking the cup from my hand and placing it on the nightstand beside him. “Would you like to know?”
“No!” I groaned, fell back on to the bed, and put the pillow over my head. “I’m tired of being strange. You’re supposed to be the strange one. You were the naked one in the woods. Now, every time I enter a new room, I’m labeled something else. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. Let’s just blame magic for whatever happened and move on.”
“As you wish,” he said, and I heard him lift and open his book again. He was still and quiet. He took his time with every page like he was memorizing it, not just reading it. I felt comfortable like this. Next to him, doing nothing. It was nice. But the longer the silence went, the more I wanted to talk—to hear him talk.
“Are you enjoying your book?” I asked, gently turning onto my side.
“I do not believe the intention of this work was enjoyment.”
“I beg to differ. It is, after all, called the Divine Comedy,” I shot back jokingly, but the joke was obviously lost on him as he replied like one of my old literature professors.
“There were only two styles of literature in those days, tragedy and comedy. The only difference between the two was the way in which they ended.”
“I know, and it still proves my point. The fact that the ending is a comedy means that Dante’s intention was enjoyment. Otherwise, he’d write like Virgil did in Death of Eurydice.” I lifted my pillow slightly to get a look at him when he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. I noticed that his 5’o clock shadow was back on his jaw.
“You’ve read the Greek classics?” He smiled.
“I kind of had to; most classical art is inspired by classic literature.”
“Of all the Greek tragedies, why did you choose the Death of Eurydice?” He leaned back on the headboard, no longer interested in the book but rather me.
Removing the pillow, I sat up on my elbows. “I chose Virgil because he is the guide of Dante in the comedy.”
“Yes, however, there are other, much more well-known works of Virgil. The Aeneid, for one,” he replied, and that was true.
“Dante wrote the Divine Comedy almost like a self-help book. He was exiled from Florence, lost all of his possessions, and his love, Beatrice. In the Death of Eurydice, the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice is told, and Orpheus, like Dante, loses his love. They both search for them in death. So, it’s the best similarity in his work to use.”
“You are right.” He grinned, placing his hand under my chin, lifting my head. “However, both Orpheus and Dante lose their loves forever.”
I frowned, taking back my chin. “What do you mean? Dante meets Beatrice again in Paradise. She’s the one that guides him in.”
“But when Dante reaches Paradise, Beatrice does not love him as he remembered. And the farther he goes, he realizes his love for Beatrice is not true happiness. They are together in the end, but their love is inconsequential. If the tale was merely for entertainment, why would he not have ended it at meeting her again?”
“Because Dante was also very religious and didn’t want to be blasphemous,” I stated, leaning forward.
He leaned down, too. “He wrote of popes in hell’s fire and nearly condemned the whole church.”
“The church isn’t the religion. It’s people. Condemning people of that religion is not condemning the whole faith.”
“Exactly, faith is not meant to be for enjoyment but to teach a lesson to those who believe in it. Therefore, his purpose was not enjoyment.” He smiled in his victory.
I sighed. “Why are you reading this? Are you hoping to be taught something?”
“Yes and no. Recent activities had me wondering where mortals’ souls go after death. When I die and return, it is as if I were sleeping and just awake to a new place,” he stated, and I felt a small ache at the thought of him dying even for a little bit.
“I still prefer to read it as work of enjoyment,” I whispered, resting my head on my hands. “Dante went from misery to bliss. It’s good no matter how he and Beatrice ended up. At least she was still there with him.”
His eyes locked with mine. Quickly, gently, he kissed my lips. However, it was quick, so I didn’t have time to respond before he spoke again. “You have the fortitude of a justice.”
“Is that the old one way of saying I like to argue?”