Unamuno, part 10

A statue of a dying saint in a church. No, really.
A statue of a dying saint in a church. No, really. You say you’ve seen Aphrodite looking less sexual? Welcome to the Counter-Reformation!

What on earth is he talking about? continued.

As much as I’ve been enjoying the stroll through art history, possibly I should try to connect some of these thoughts to the actual essay I’m supposed to be writing. I’m finding both the pieta paintings and St. Teresa helpful. There’s always a streak of suffering as a form of love running through asceticism, and the Italians and Spaniards seem to have taken it to a whole new level of *cough* physicality. Well, if you, with Unamuno, assert that all love is sexual love, and that suffering creates love, and that after being ground in the mortar and pestle of shared grief, you learn to love with a true fusion of souls, and that thanks to love we can feel whatever is of the flesh in the spirit… well, you get that statue up there. You get good Christian people going to great lengths to imagine the agony of crucifixion.  You have that, and transfer it to an otherwise normal sort of relationship, and get something like the story of Julia and Alejandro. It seems like an odd kind of psychological experiment.

But… umm… right, academic paper. And I said I’d write three pages on this before trying to sort out what kind of love J and A had going on. “And they suffer their love in the enjoyment of their suffering.” *Ponder*

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