Aphrodite: Moeurs antiques

Aphrodite #1-3

by Pierre Louÿs, Jean-Paul Goujon (Préface)

Alexandrie, Ier siècle avant Jésus-Christ : un sculpteur en vogue, amant de la reine, tombe amoureux de la belle courtisane Chrysis, qui exige de lui trois gages. Il commet trois crimes. Puis il rêve que son désir est assouvi. Il exige alors de Chrysis qu'elle aille déposer les trois objets sur le rocher du phare d'Alexandrie, nue comme Aphrodite... Immense succès à sa publication, ce roman de mœurs antiques, sans tomber dans une érudition excessive, ressuscite tout l'imaginaire esthétique de la fin du siècle, le côté « Musée d'Orsay » : le péplum, le merveilleux, les aventures, les symboles, l'érotisme, par un maître du style. La tradition de Salammbô se mêle au marivaudage tragique de Carmen ; c'est, comme disait Louÿs, « un roman antique sur la femme et sur la lumière ».

Genres: Fiction, France, Classics, Historical Fiction, French Literature, Romance, Erotica

416 pages, Pocket Book

First published January 1, 1896

About the author

Pierre Louÿs was a French poet and writer, most renowned for lesbian and classical themes in some of his writings. He is known as a writer who sought to "express pagan sensuality with stylistic perfection". He was made first a Chevalier and then an Officer of the Légion d'honneur for his contributions to French literature.

Born in Belgium, in 1870, but moved to France where he would spend the rest of his life. He was a friend of authors André Gide and Oscar Wilde, and of composer Claude Debussy.

Reviews

[Scribble Orca · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ah! This writer is sublime.

I cannot think - I can only respond as the string of a violin quivers under the drawing of a bow. This is prose so voluptuous that no amount of imagery, sumptuous, voluminous, sensuous or rapturous can even begin to describe the delights of this book.

Literature only reaches the utmost limit of its seductiveness when it gives occasion for jealousy - not the petty feelings that constitute envy of one writer for another, but the searing, tumultuous emotion that demands withholding its beauty and wonder from the eyes of all other readers.

Such a book is this.

[Shawn · Rating 4 out of 5]

A little bit of a preamble here, so those looking for a succinct review need to jump down a few paragraphs.

First point: when I first started assembling my "reading list" (which, for a very long time afterwards was just an endless spreadsheet document with names of books and their authors) about 20-odd years ago, and was pilfering all kinds of names of classic and genre lit to add, I came up against a conundrum: was I going to include "erotica", a genre which, at that point in my life I had little use for? Sure, you can make the easy "one-handed reading" jokes all you'd like, but somewhere deep in my mind was the idea that, much like almost everything else I'd included, there had to be good reason why the genre existed, and interesting texts to be read. On the other hand, I really couldn't conceive of what could be gained from endless descriptions of physical encounters and emotional conflicts. Well, years later, I'm glad to have made the right decision. Oh, no doubt there will be duds here and there (as there are in any genres), but my inclusion of potential erotica reads will likely be helped by my overarching focus on, and love for, "non-contemporary" books. There are all kinds of reasons for that focus/love (not worth exploring here) but suffice it to say that crude modern gropings along the lines of 50 SHADES OF GRAY were never going to enter into my orbit anyway. And as I've grown older, and read more widely, I've found that one of my greatest joys in reading comes from placing a work in its chronological/historical/cultural context - and there's no reason why erotica will not serve just as well as any other examples over the years.

Second point: My reading of this books was somewhat hampered by my choice of physical text. I happened to have (having once worked for them) the illustrated hardcovers produced by Humanoids (the American arm of French bande dessinée publisher Les Humanoïdes Associés, of Metal Hurlant/Heavy Metal fame), which accompany the text with "erotic" art from different artists (as can be seen here: Aphrodite: Book One, Aphrodite: Book Two, Aphrodite: Book Three) but soon discovered that they seemed to have abandoned the English versions before completing the text. A quick visit to a used book store scored me the Modern Library version/translation seen here, but reading that made me question how effective/thorough/edited the Humanoids texts were. I don't really have time in my life to re-read anything, so I greatly enjoyed finishing the book, while worried that much enjoyment may have been missed from the first half. C'est la vie.

(As a short aside, the illustrated version are quite nice, although the Milo Manara artwork - while certainly accomplished - is a bit too, uh, clinically "gynecological" for my tastes, the Georges Bess artwork has a nice "poster art" quality at times and the Claire Wendling artwork is in a darker, more interesting style.)

REVIEW (First Tier): Is this book worth reading? I would say yes, for a number of readers/interests - for those interested in the portrayal of ancient times, and customs/practices involving sex and culture, for those interested in an examination of the links between passion/lust and crime, and for those interested in a Literary Decadent/Symbolist worldview applied to the preceding topics. APHRODITE is never boring or heavy, and achieves a remarkable effect by the climax. Much more than a work of erotic/historic fiction, it features musings on some deep topics. A thoroughly enjoyable read!

REVIEW (Second Tier): So, what you are getting here is actually two things.

One is an historical novel, set in ancient Alexandria (the full title is APHRODITE: MOEURS ANTIQUES - "Ancient Manners") intensely focused on the lives/customs/practices of courtesans (prostitutes) and their customers (the pampered royalty and intellectual classes of the city).

But Louÿs deliberately uses this setting and story to indulge in multiple exercises: a descriptive celebration of physical beauty and physical love, a luxuriance in Orientalist detail, an exposition of Libertine/Pagan philosophy, an exploration of just how much erotic content he can get away with (as per contemporary mores), a savoring of contrasts between ancient and modern morals/ethics and, finally, a relishing of the freedom that the fin de siècle has given him to introduce darker undertones to the narrative (contrasting eternal art with mortal beauty, life and death, intellectual philosophy and human suffering, crime and spiritual faith, etc.)

So, as may be seen, this scandalous, phenomenal bestseller of its time is something more than a mere "stroke book." Any prurient interests it may have engendered have long since been overridden by our culture, and so one can enjoy it for all the further details to be teased from the text. Which is not to say the overall "erotic" tone is not present - the opening scenes (in which Chrysis luxuriates in sleeping late, bathing and performing her daily ablutions and toilette, while admiring and enjoying her body) are a masterclass in subtle, tactile, erotic writing - with a sensory evocation of texture, color, surface, light and scent; and a focus on hair, skin, water, perfume, atmosphere, dressing, costume and tinting.

The plot is fairly straightforward. Chrysis (a stunningly beautiful, 19-year-old courtesan) is desired by celebrity sculptor Démétrios (whose mistress is Alexandria's queen, Bérénice). But Chrysis is indifferent and her perverse streak ("If someone should adore me, it seems to me that I would find much pleasure in making him suffer until he died of it") drives her to demand three offerings as proof of the sculptor's love. Obtaining the offerings will involve the commission of three crimes, each worse than the last: the mirror of Sappho (theft), the High Priestess' Ivory Comb (murder, as she is never without it), and the necklace that adorns the statue of Aphrodite (sacrilege). As Démétrios sets upon his task (although deeply conflicted), we are given a cross-section of life in the city at the time - the parties and orgies, the lives of slaves and courtesans, etc. The climax, which I will reveal only in a spoiler space later, involves a reversal of power and a decision to embrace transient beauty over life itself, and how art preserves that beauty in eternal, if dead, form.

Démétrios, who is used to being loved for his physical beauty and skill, but not used to loving someone, is the main mouthpiece of the Decadent worldview here. He is melancholy because he finds that he loves the marble statue of Aphrodite he has sculpted more than his actual lover, the queen, because it is perfect and eternal. His passion for Chrysis undergoes an interesting transformation as the story proceeds, hinging specifically on a detailed, symbolic dream he experiences near the climax. Chrysis' specific request for objects relating to the presentation of physical beauty also has a neat inversion at the end.

There are interesting secondary characters and scenes as well (even tween Cleopatra shows up for a chapter!). Rhodis & Mytrocleia, lesbians appalled by heterosexual love, make a demand of Chrysis (who enthuses in her seeming power over the sculptor and contemplates requesting regicide and revolution) that she promise that they can officially wed and adopt children (as lesbians can in their home country). We are given a detailed overview of the Temple of Aphrodite/Astarte which houses 1400 courtesans of various ages, nationalities and customs (including 10-year-old courtesan Melitta, who we hear from occasionally). Naucrates & Chrysis discuss the philosophy of love between the same and opposite sexes and the need for courtesans in society; and in one powerful scene (following a night's orgy to celebrate the freedom of former slave Aphrodesia, she is unjustly blamed for Démétrios' theft and crucified) Phrasilus & Timon offer a dying woman their dueling philosophical aid (the former all cold, rational, unhelpful stoicism & the latter physical/emotional succor).

APHRODITE is a surprisingly powerful work about passion and desire and their consequences. The historical setting allows for contrasts between the ancient and modern world, wherein the ancient is seen as more pragmatic (regarding sex, sexuality, etc.) and beautiful (in a cultural appreciation of the arts) but conversely more savage (orgies, slavery, a crucifixion scene) and the writing is never less than subtly masterful.

Finally, a bit for the spoiler zone: Upon realizing that he has already consummated his love during his symbolic dream of Chrysis, after which the power dynamic between them shifts, Démétrios' demand that Aphrodite wear, in public, the items he has debased himself to obtain - thus sealing her fate for the punishment of the crimes, took me by surprise and I have to say her final proud and incandescent ascension of the Lighthouse of Alexandria to face the public was simply a stunningly powerful moment! Equally appreciated was the quasi-morbidity of the scenes following her prison suicide (and Démétrios' posing of her cold body to model the perfect statue), as her deteriorating corpse is shuffled around town by well-intentioned friends - the kind of sardonic detail and caustic commentary on the Life/Art dichotomy that we could only have gotten out of the fin de siècle! Bravo!

[Sérgio · Rating 5 out of 5]

Publicado no Literatura à Solta, disponível em
http://literaturaasolta.blogspot.pt/2...

No terceiro e último volume da grande síntese da história do século XIX, A Era do Império 1875-1914, o historiador Eric Hobsbawm cita como uma evidência do progresso ulteriormente quebrado pela Primeira Guerra Mundial o apoio à cultura dado pelas classes dominantes desse período, que permitiu a publicação da obra de Rainer Maria Rilke e de Marcel Proust. Por lapso, ou talvez por puritanismo, esqueceu Pierre Louÿs.

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Pierre Louÿs (1870-1925)

Figura controversa do simbolismo de língua francesa, elitista por natureza, acreditando que o trabalho de um escritor era escrever para uns quantos eleitos capazes de compreender a sua obra, Louÿs legou-nos algumas das mais belas páginas de fino lirismo de todo o século XIX. Publica em 1894, Les Chansons de Bilitis, traduzido em português com demasiada liberdade poética como O Sexo de Ler de Bilitis , fruto de um extenso trabalho de pesquisa histórico-literária para recriar o mundo grego pré-clássico, do século VI a. C., tendo sido posteriormente adaptado para piano por Claude Debussy. Com Bilitis, uma suposta amante de Safo, vivemos a exaltação do amor em todas as suas vertentes através de cento e cinquenta e oito poemas que narram a sua vida num puro estilo grego, chegando mesmo, durante um curto espaço de tempo, a ser confundidos, como o próprio autor propunha, com a produção original de uma Bilitis que nunca existiu.

Afrodite surge na senda de Les Chansons de Bilitis, em 1896, e catapultou Pierre Louÿs para o sucesso literário do século em França, vendendo um total de 350 mil cópias, sucesso que fez a fortuna da então recém-criada editora Mercure de France. Desta feita, a acção decorre na Alexandria do tempo da rainha Berenice IV (58-55 a. C.), irmã mais velha da grande Cleópatra. Acompanhamos a mais bela mulher da cidade, originária da Galileia, raptada aos 12 anos por mercadores que a instalam no bairro judeu e a estabelecem como prostituta, ou cortesã. Sara, de seu nascimento, é denominada pelos amantes como Crísis ou Criseida, nome que evoca um dos muitos epítetos de Afrodite, dada a sua grande semelhança com a deusa do amor, e a perfeição arcádica de uma beldade de cabelos dourados e pele alva e maviosa. Crísis, prestes a completar 20 anos, amante de centenas de homens, e mulheres, pois o lesbianismo, na Antiguidade helénica, era não só socialmente aceite como muito frequente, nunca amou.

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Representação do Farol de Alexandria, marco do Egipto Helénico, por H. Thiersch

Quando se cruza com Demétrio, o famoso escultor da Afrodite que povoa o centro do maior templo de Alexandria, e ainda mais famoso amante da rainha, a sua vida mudará para sempre. Cansado do amor exigente de Berenice, enfadado da louca devoção por parte das mulheres da cidade, que o perseguem e assediam a toda a hora, Demétrio contenta-se com a perfeição estética da estátua que criou. Contudo, positivamente encantado com a conjugação da beleza de Crísis com a arte de a saber apresentar e servir-se dela para respirar sensualidade e confiança, vê-se rejeitado nos seus avanços. Desta forma, Demétrio apaixona-se até à servidão por Crísis. Deleitada por prender o ardor do altivo e orgulhoso amante da rainha, Criseida exige-lhe a consumação de três crimes como prova do seu amor: o roubo do espelho de Safo, pertencente a Báquis, uma cortesã rival, a aquisição do pente de marfim de Nitaucrite, antiga rainha do Egipto, pelo assassinato da sua então possuidora, a esposa do Sumo-sacerdote, e a profanação do templo de Afrodite através do furto do colar das Verdadeiras Pérolas de Anadiomene que embelezam a estátua divina, fruto do labor do escultor.

Servil à adoração pela única mulher capaz de lhe suscitar interesse, Demétrio aplica-se na reunião dos três objectos. Tudo consegue sem deixar provas da sua infâmia. Na noite anterior à entrega das jóias, deita-se, extenuado, e sonha – numa descrição de extrema beleza, provavelmente o melhor capítulo da obra – com tudo aquilo que Crísis lhe prometeu: a revelação dos seus encantos físicos, o deslumbramento pelas artes da dança e da sedução, o cantar das poesias de amor judaico e a união sexual com todos os seus requintes. Através deste sonho transcendental, Demétrio liberta-se do feitiço do amor escravizador de Crísis, abdica de reclama-la, de possuí-la, pois já a detém na forma que considera mais absoluta, a estética.

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Capa da reedição de 1900, ilust. de Édouard Zier

Quando a cidade, em plena celebração das Afrodísias, festividades em honra da deusa do prazer, acorda para a revelação dos crimes hediondos, Crísis, braço activo de Eros nas feridas de amor alheias é por Eros ferida, de uma forma que não previra. Desejara apenas subjugar Demétrio, negar-lhe aquilo que todos os outros teriam ao seu alcance por uma módica quantia, fazendo pagar-se a um preço incomensurável, nunca antes exigido, e acaba, finalmente, vítima de amor, desejando oferecer-lhe aquilo que nunca ofereceu a ninguém, o seu coração.

Todavia, não é já o mesmo Demétrio que encontra. Esbarra contra a dura realidade do ideal estético, de novo vencedor na alma do seu amado. Suplica-lhe que a ame, mas, no seu renovado egoísmo, Demétrio exige-lhe uma condição: deve caminhar pela cidade, nua, envergando apenas as três jóias, causadoras dos crimes que horrorizam Alexandria. É presa e condenada à morte por envenenamento e, só no momento em que deve beber a cicuta suicida, recebe a companhia indiferente de Demétrio, que, logo após o último suspiro, modela o corpo de Crísis na exaltada posição de amor do seu sonho para o modelo da sua derradeira obra-prima, a Essência da Vida.

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A queda de Crísis, ilust. de Édouard Zier

Esta é uma obra de perfeição estilística absoluta. Nada é escrito ao acaso, tudo tem um propósito. A profundidade literária que a obra contém nas suas meras 224 páginas é a prova de uma laboriosa delapidação artística digna da melhor produção do movimento simbolista. Encontra-se dividida, ao sabor clássico, numa tragédia em cinco actos, resultante do imolar do modelo ateniense afincadamente treinado por Louÿs. A sua escrita não deixa de me recordar Colette, no seu Chéri. Contudo, o que para mim lhe acrescenta mais valor é a tentativa de Pierre recuperar um tempo anterior à moralidade e cosmogonia cristãs, possibilitando-nos um raro vislumbre sobre o mundo perdido da Antiguidade. Devido à exposição da inerente sensualidade, mais fresca, à flor da pele, da “juventude inebriada da terra”, como define o mundo antigo, tão contrária à moral vitoriana, Pierre Louÿs seria durante décadas considerado um autor maldito, relegado, no final da vida, para a obscuridade. É de autores malditos, no entanto, que tantas vezes provêm as mais nuas verdades.

[Warren Fournier · Rating 4 out of 5]

Looking for something suitably romantic or racy to read around Valentine's Day? Put down that copy of "50 Shades of Gray" and try the 1896 novel "Aphrodite." I've heard some readers describe this as critically-acclaimed porn, but I disagree. I'm sure the works of Belgian author Pierre Louÿs have offended some Puritan sensibilities, but I would say this book falls more in the category of an erotic philosophical tragedy.

Whereas pornography tends to objectify the body and fetishize the act of sex, erotica worships and celebrates the archetype of human beauty. In this book, the idea is taken quite literally. Every page of "Aphrodite" is a romanticized depiction of the classical worship of beauty in the form of ancient goddesses.

The action focuses on a sculptor, Demetrios, who fashions a statue of Aphrodite after his queen and mistress, Berenice, but he shuns his earthly lover in favor of her marble effigy. Now, this guy is known throughout the Hellenized world as quite the hottie, but there is one woman who does not seem to be so willing to invite him to her bed. She is Chrysis, a 19-year-old courtesan, and her aloofness drives the artist to mad desire. She easily convinces him to commit three crimes in order to win her affection, leading to murder.

Not only does the story deal in archetypes, it is entirely set within a fantastical ideal of classical Alexandria itself, where nude women bathe on every shore and frolic like deer in every garden. The equivalent of a red light district is actually a community of hippies who serve as hosts to libidinous travelers, their indulgences joining visitor and hostess in mutual worship of the mother goddess of their temple. This is a culture not of prostitutes, but of priestesses and oracles and queens.

But all ideals are modeled after reality, or vice versa. So in this Victorian Orientalist fantasy, there is a modicum of genuine history. For example, we are introduced to the Cotytteion, a kind of temple and gated community of courtesons who worship Kotytto, a Thracian goddess who really was worshipped by the "baptes," or "bathers," via wild lesbian night orgies. Louÿs lets his imagination run wild by having the ladies consume vast quantities of aphrodisiac every full moon, with the eldest required to take a fatal dose. It seems to me that, if this were true, Kotytto would quickly run out of courtesans to worship her.

Speaking of sapphist love, Louÿs is extremely progressive about same-sex relationships, depicting two female musicians who lament not being able to marry according to the laws of Alexandria. I suppose Louÿs was the fin de siècle equivalent of "woke".

And he certainly meant to push buttons of readers of his day, but his intent was not to shock. He was dedicated to depicting the crux of beauty in all people, regardless of ethnicity, age, sex, or habitus, and to titillate his chosen readers into thinking deeply about matters of amor. However, there are some moments that will certainly raise eyebrows today.

Case in point, Demetrios goes to temple and chooses a "hostess" who is quite intelligent and charming in her libertine fashion, only to realize that she is quite young. He asks her her age. My Kindle edition from 2017 completely removes her answer, but in the original French and earlier English editions, she responds that she is "ten and a half, practically eleven." Andre Gide was one of the celebrity fans of Louÿs, and so he probably loved that part.

Regardless, this novel is much more intelligent and fascinating than it has any right to be. It remains a truly thought-provoking study of human attraction as well as a classy example of old-school erotica that explores the beauty of physionomie in language. If you are interested in Symbolist literature, this needs to be on your short-list. The novel also ventures into some surprisingly brutal and dark territory, making this a delightful read for horror fans and romance readers alike.

To some in our modern audience, "Aphrodite" may seem a bit too precious, adorned with flowery language teeming with thee's and thou's, but I encourage you to put yourself in the mindset of an artist and just go with it. Besides, the book is quite short. As Pierre Louÿs himself asserts in this novel,

"Perhaps we each have but a single thing to say in our life, and those who attempt to speak at greater length are too ambitious."

For added bonus, many editions feature stunning artwork, from the original scene sketches by Édouard François Zier, to Beresford Egan's full-page plates in the 1928 English edition, to the lush stylized ink nudes by Frank J. Buttera in the 1932 translation. There is also a 1999 three-volume set containing new colorful illustrations by Milo Manara, Georges Bess, and Claire Wendling. If you can find a hard copy, it might make a nice Valentine's gift for that artistically-inclined special someone.

SCORE: 4 copper mirrors out of 5

WORD OF THE DAY: Hierodule

[Mariana Orantes · Rating 5 out of 5]

Divertidísimo. Se nota que sabía, con mucha maña, lo que hacía. Los recursos que utiliza son para mantener una tensión sensual, sin embargo también hay una exageración paródica de las novelas eróticas de la época que simplemente te hacen partir de la risa. Creo, sin embargo, que a veces se le va la mano y la intención paródica puede ser tomada como algo más serio por la enorme cantidad de lectores sin sentido del humor, sobre todo los cis que la leerán con una mano mientras Pierre de Louÿs se retuerce de risa en su tumba. Cabrón, era un cabrón, no cabe duda. Es genial.

[Diletta · Rating 4 out of 5]

Bellezza e crudeltà. Tutto qui. Per me, solo per questo, vince su tutta la linea. Aveva già vinto in partenza.

[Eddie · Rating 1 out of 5]

1,5 Quando un autore classico decide di fare un romanzo storico si entra in un circolo vizioso di razzismo, misoginia e omofobia perfetto per un elettore medio di Fratelli d'Italia . A questo proposito la mia copia de I promessi sposi mi incute un leggero timore.

Libro molto intenso, scrittura interessante, con un grande focus sul tema dell'amore e della crudeltà e come possano essere interconnessi fra loro. Peccato che l'autore creda che siano solo questi valori a rappresentare l'umanità.

Un grande difetto dei personaggi è essere quasi privi di coscienza: commettere delitti a destra e a manca è davvero così grave se il conflitto morale sembra essere inesistente? Quant'è scandaloso un furto se l'unica ragione per cui viene attuato è la richiesta di compiere quel crimine?
"Eppure quella donna gli avrebbe dato il suo pettine e persino la sua capigliatura, per amore… S’egli non lo chiese, fu per scrupolo: Criside aveva nettamente voluto un delitto e non un gioiello antico, appuntato nei capelli d’una giovane donna. Per questo egli credette dover suo consentire a questa effusione di sangue." Pierre mi prendi in giro?

Questa mancanza di principi morali, però, è ancora più disturbante in altri passaggi. Criside, uscita da una festa, si perde in luoghi a lei sconosciuti e, inseguita da uomini loschi, sta per essere stuprata. Come si risolve questa scena onestamente terrificante? Criside si ricorda che, essendo una cortigiana, le piace scopare, e quindi chiede solo di andare su di un letto comodo.
Dude?????????

Per quanto tu voglia descrivere dei personaggi corrotti, immorali, che trattano la vita come continue occasioni per trarre vantaggio a discapito degli altri, NON PUOI RENDERLI DEI MOSTRI. Nonostante tutto hanno ancora dei limiti, dei confini, continuano ad avere il CONSENSO. Che senso ha leggere un libro su queste tre azioni riprovevoli chieste in cambio dell'amore se poi esse vengono compiute con un'esitazione infinitesimale?

E guarda un po' il caso, nonostante a commettere questi delitti siano un uomo e una donna, nel finale un personaggio è morto e un altro vive la sua vita senza ripercussione alcuna. Lascio a voi tirare le somme.

Ai due criminali vengono opposte altre tre figure, rivelanti soprattutto perché sono i veri protagonisti del finale, coloro che danno una sepoltura al cadavere di Criside (eddai lo sapevamo tutti che sarebbe stata lei a morire e non lui), peccato che neanche loro siano chissà che modelli sul piano morale.

Il primo personaggio è Timonte, il cui scopo è ricordarci di cogliere l'attimo, poiché noi decidiamo il nostro destino, cosa farne della nostra esistenza. "- A ognuno il suo, Criside mia. Non c’è uno scopo universale all’esistenza degli esseri. Io, per conto mio, sono il figlio di un banchiere la cui clientela comprende tutte le grandi cortigiane di Egitto, e siccome mio padre con mezzi ingegnosi ha ammucchiato una vistosa fortuna, io onestamente la restituisco alle vittime dei suoi benefici, giacendo con loro tanto sovente quanto le forze concessemi dagli dèi me lo permettono."
Egli è anche il grande saggio che si chiede che, dato che una donna è stupida e scopare è bello, perché l'unico scopo della vita femminile non è prostituirsi?
"Non è libera di regolare da sola una questione che riguarda lei sola? E’ donna e in quanto è donna è generalmente poco sensibile ai piaceri intellettuali: e non contenta di restare estranea alla metà delle gioie umane, s’interdice col matrimonio l’altra faccia della voluttà! Può così una fanciulla, nell’età in cui è tutta ardore, dirsi: “Conoscerò mio marito, più dieci amanti, forse dodici” e credere di morire senza nulla rimpiangere?"
Grazie Timonte! E io che pensavo che potessero avere la libertà di scelta!

Gli altri due personaggi sono una coppia omosessuale di suonatrici, Rodide e Mirto. Questo elemento non è però aggiunto perché Pierre voleva rappresentare le sofferenze della comunità lesbica nell'antica Grecia: il loro unico scopo è mostrare il loro amore, soprattutto nelle scene più spinte. Prive di caratteristiche comportamentali che le possano distinguere, sono inserite nella storia per mostrare l'innocenza di queste vergini. Non essendo state penetrate sono ancora pure, candide, delle perfette vergini che non hanno ancora incontrato l'uomo giusto: il loro amore non è rappresentato come una condizione duratura, ma come un vezzo passeggero, una situazione possibile solo perché non sono ancora pronte alla brutalità maschile, non sono ancora mature.

Al confronto con le cortigiane, le due ragazze sono innocenti, non ancora pronte al mondo reale. Sapete invece chi è pronto? Tutte le bambine che nascono nel tempio di Afrodite, naturalmente!
"e il Gerofante la deflorava lui stesso con un coltellino d’oro, poiché la verginità spiace ad Afrodite." ...uhm.
Ammetto che erano tempi diversi, ambienti diversi, morali diversi, ma era davvero necessario che uno dei protagonisti scopasse una prostituta di DIECI anni? Fino a quando si possono giustificare certe scelte stilistiche come attinenza storica? Come posso non provare disgusto all'idea di trovare una bambina sensuale? Perché devo accettare che certi elementi vengano inseriti in un libro, quando non aggiungo NULLA alla trama? La giustificazione dei tempi diversi la accetto per "Arancia meccanica", dove la crudeltà come natura era anche lì un tema fondante, ma la pedopornografia è un po' troppo.

Nella zona oscura dell'autore classico e del romanzo storico c'è anche depersonalizzazione degli schiavi ("nel corso di dieci anni aveva saputo contentarsi d’una sola negra, e facendola fecondare ogni anno, s’era gratuitamente creata una numerosa servitù che più tardi divenne una ricchezza." ; "E poi valeva la pena di preoccuparsi per la vita di un essere servile?") , descrizione della crocifissione di uno degli unici personaggi neri molto dettagliata, misoginia pura ("L’uomo che ha rifiutato di baciare il vostro piede nudo, se vi violenta, colma i vostri desideri."), e concetti omofobi e razzisti (le cortigiane nere nelle sono l'eccezione).

La scrittura ha i suoi momenti belli, lo stile è scorrevole, le tematiche intriganti, ma ne vale la pena?
"Orrore! Era dunque questo ch’ella stava per diventare! Con spaventosa lucidità ebbe la visione del suo cadavere, e fece scorrere le mani sul corpo per andare fino in fondo a quest’idea così semplice, che fino a questo momento non le era mai venuta: che portava in sé uno scheletro, che questo non era un risultato della morte, una metamorfosi, un termine, ma una cosa che portiamo con noi, uno spettro inseparabile dalla forma umana, e che l’armatura della vita è già il simbolo della tomba."

Perché l'ho scelto per Aprile? Durante il mese dedicato ad Afrodite? Chissà

Lo consiglierei ? No. Non è un libro sulla liberazione del sex work, se tratta le donne come stupide che hanno solo il sesso da offrire, o se tra il sex work che difende c'è anche quello svolto da bambini, iniziato tramite la mutilazione dei genitali. Leggere romanzi osé antichi (sia questo che L'amante di Lady Chatterley) continua a deludermi, Kamasutra salvami tu!

[Michael Steger · Rating 3 out of 5]

I was led to this book by some intriguing, amusing references to it at the beginning of Roberto Bolano's 'The Savage Detectives.' It is a thoroughly enjoyable work of quasi-literary, semi-pedantic, decadent, somewhat Symbolist, inevitably kitschy soft-core eroticism (with a good bit of Orientalism thrown in for good measure). It is the story of a much-admired (though fictional) Alexandrian courtesan, in the reign of Berenice II of Egypt (i.e. 3rd century BCE). Shortly after the novella begins, the heroine chants a song-poem in praise of her body, ending with some words of praise for her sex: 'She is a purple flower, overflowing with honey and scent' -- and that, more or less, sets the tone. It may remind you of Flaubert's 'Salaambo,' though of course Flaubert evidently was much more into violence and sadism than sex per se.

'Aphrodite' was written in 1895, when Louys was 25 (and published the following year), and it was one of the best selling books of its time. Louys was a friend of Valery, Mallarme, and Wilde (who dedicated 'Salome' to Louys) and an admirer of the new work of the young Gide. Luis Bunuel's still-unsettling 1977 film Cet Obscur Objet du Desir is based on a Louys novella. Louys ended his life as a sad and sickly figure, preyed upon by his friends and acquaintances, and trying to alleviate his migraine with cocaine

Louys was praised for his literary French form, and criticized for his decadent provocations (a scene in which an Alexandrian courtesan is accused of theft and crucified in the midst of a chatty philosophical dinner-party/ orgy was not exactly well received by the critical establishment).

He was also a great celebrant of Lesbian love--indeed, like Kristeva in her 'Soleil Noir,' Louys seems to question how on earth women ever come to be attracted to men at all--and to this day Louys is something of a minor icon in Lesbian cultural history.

This is not a great book, but it is nonetheless a fascinating one.

In his Introduction, Louys suggests that his novel is meant to serve the cause of reminding readers of how sensual and pleasurable life could be, if we think of the Mediterranean cultures before the Christian era of sin and shame. Against the frigid, efficient North, Louys pits the languorous, hedonistic South:

...sensuality is the mysterious but necessary and creative condition of intellectual development. Those who have not felt the exigencies of the flesh to the uttermost, whether for love or hatred,are incapable of understanding the full range of the exigencies of the mind. Just as the beauty of the soul illumines the whole face, in like manner virility of the body is an indispensable condition of a fruitful brain. The worst insult that Delacroix could address to men, the insult that he hurled without distinction against the decriers of Rubens and the detractors of Ingres, was the terrible word: eunuchs.

But furthermore, it would seem that the genius of peoples, like that of individuals, is above all sensual. All the cities that have reigned over the world, Babylon, Alexandria, Athens, Rome, Venice, Paris, have by a general law been as licentious as they were powerful, as if their dissoluteness was necessary to their splendour. The cities where the legislator has attempted to implant a narrow, unproductive, and artificial virtue have seen themselves condemned to utter death from the very first day. It was so with Lacedæmon, which, in the centre of the most prodigious intellectual development that the human spirit has ever witnessed, between Corinth and Alexandria, between Syracuse and Miletus, has bequeathed us neither a poet, nor a painter, nor a philosopher, nor an historian, nor a savant, barely the popular renown of a sort of Bobillot who got killed in a mountain defile with three hundred men without even succeeding in gaining the victory. And it is for this reason that after two thousand years we are able to gauge the nothingness of Spartan virtue, and declare, following Renan's exhortation, that we "curse the soil that bred this mistress of sombre errors, and insult it because it exists no longer."

Shall we see the return of the days of Ephesus and Cyrene? Alas! the modern world is succumbing to an invasion of ugliness. Civilization is marching to the north, is entering into mist, cold, mud. What night! A people clothed in black fills the mean streets. What is it thinking of? We know not, but our twenty-five years shiver at being banished to a land of old men.

But let those who will ever regret not to have known that rapturous youth of the earth which we call ancient life, be allowed to live again, by a fecund illusion, in the days when human nudity the most perfect form that we can know and even conceive of, since we believe it to be in God's image, could unveil itself under the features of a sacred courtesan, before the twenty thousand pilgrims who covered the strands of Eleusis; when the most sensual love, the divine love of which we are born, was without sin: let them be allowed to forget eighteen barbarous, hypocritical, and hideous centuries.

[Eadweard · Rating 3 out of 5]

A decadent (and erotic?) historical novel, the prose and the descriptions of Ptolemaic Alexandria are just luscious, the plot itself isn't much but that is not why you read this sort of work. If I'm not mistaken, this became a best seller when it came out. For an older work downloaded off Project Gutenberg, the translation was quite explicit.
--




"It was a delight to her to look at herself through the water. She saw herself like a great pearl-shell lying open on a rock. Her skin became smooth and perfect; the lines of her legs tapered away into blue light; her whole form was more supple; her hands were transfigured. The lightness of her body was such that she raised herself on two fingers and allowed herself to float for a little and fall gently back on the marble, causing the water to ripple softly against her chin. The water entered her ears with the provocation of a kiss.

It was when taking her bath that Chrysis began to adore herself. Every part of her body became separately the object of tender admiration and the motive of a caress. She played a thousand charming pranks with her hair and her breasts. Sometimes, even, she accorded a direct satisfaction to her perpetual desires, and no place of repose seemed to her more propitious for the minute slowness of this delicate solace."
----




"The orient was bathed in a sea of colour. A long band, livid as a water leaf, enveloped the horizon with an olive-coloured girdle. Higher up, several tints sprang out of one another, liquid sheets of blue-green sky, irisated, or lilac-coloured, melting insensibly into the leaden azure of the upper heavens. Then, these tiers of colour rose slowly, a line of gold appeared, mounted, expanded: a thin thread of purple illumined this melancholic dawn, and, in a flood of blood, the sun was born."

[Mel · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read an English translation of this, it was listed as a "modern" translation which I'm guessing meant they left the naughty bits in. I did enjoy the book a lot. It was great to have interesting and independent women characters. The lesbian couple were adorable. When put in perspective with English literature at this time it was miles ahead. I must admit though I was quite disappointed by the ending. After stating so explicitly in the introduction that this was NOT a tale of morality I thought it terribly disappointing to not only condemn the main character but to do so with scripture. It was depressing that she had to pay for her crimes and not the man who committed them. There were a couple things that just didn't make sense to me, why she wanted him to commit these crimes in the first place and what she hoped to gain by them. Also in the translation I read there was no mention of him completing the first task, I don't know if this was because the translator missed a bit or the original author just didn't include it. But a bit disappointing. I did enjoy this and could appreciate what the author was trying to do but I just wish he'd tried a little harder.

[Nordaviento · Rating 4 out of 5]

3'7

Difícil de puntuar. Por un lado, me ha gustado el desarrollo del hilo principal y la evolución psicológica de los personajes, además de lo curioso de ciertas escenas y conceptos y la sensualidad sutil de otras. Alguna escena me dejó bastante impactado, como el final abrupto de una fiesta.

Por otro lado, a ratos es difícil ignorar el uso del relato de personajes infantiles, con varias escenas incómodas y turbias, aunque seguramente lo más normal en aquella época histórica. Se nota también el peso de los años (1890s, casi nada) respecto a ciertas ideas y las relaciones lésbicas, pero aún así sigue siendo bastante revolucionario en la manera de plasmar este tipo de relaciones.

Al final, el disfrute es lo que cuenta, y resulta una lectura amena y sencilla (a pesar de algunos que otros monólogos filosóficos enrevesados) que me tenía con ganas de seguir leyendo para saber qué iba a pasar.

[Mike · Rating 2 out of 5]

Well, parts of this fantasist romantic idea of the ancient world were pretty good, and it was certainly lushly written. Still, I found myself asking why every character was making bad decisions (mostly because they seemed to have no inner life, and were driven entirely by whimsy and momentary emotional outbursts). In some ways this book seemed ahead of its time (1890s, though I read the 1920s English translation), particularly for the frankly tender portrayal of lesbian characters, but for racism it's pretty firmly of its time -- the kind where you get the sense that the author thinks he's being progressive but every description of a beautiful woman with brown skin makes it clear that she's beautiful in spite of her skin color instead of because of it (or even just treating it neutrally). Also the author makes almost every incidental unnamed slave black while giving named slaves more of a variety. Other than that, I could have done without the murder and torture as well as the weird and totally unnecessary scene with Cleopatra.

[Caroline · Rating 5 out of 5]

Classed as erotica, but one of the loveliest written books I’ve ever read. The protagonist is a respectable and successful prostitute, who peels herself sensually off the page by way of generous, sumptuous, and tactile descriptions. The tongue in cheek humor had me giggling to myself and memorizing jokes for use in later conversations.

[Harrison · Rating 4 out of 5]

Real love stories do not have happy endings.

[Feliks · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was the scandal and sensation of its era; banned for many years in many lands. Very much worth your while to seek out, I assure you. It's got everything! Rich, sumptuous prose, remote historical setting, exotic landscape, gorgeous uninhibited heroine. Passionate romance. Cruelty, blood, torture, and death. Wild parties; casual nudity; Greek poetry; dancing; bacchanalias. Raunchy, frank, ribald, unexpurgated erotic passages. Religious schisms; political statements, morality play. Everything all bound up into one fairly mesmerizing experience. This sordid tale lives up to every inch of its tawdry reputation. Its a must-read for anyone with red blood coursing through their veins. It's also probably a big slap-in-the-face for today's modern-day PC-centurions who probably have a whole fresh set of complaints to make about it... just as their prudish forebears did decades ago.

[Czarny Pies · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ce roman érotique de la belle époque n'a vraiment pas de place sur les tablettes du lecteur du 21e siècle. L'érotisme n'est pas suffisament pimenté les gouts de nos jours. Le discours est profondément phallocrate.

Possiblement, quelqu'un qui aime le mouvement orientaliste du 19 siècle y trouvera quelque plaisir. C'est surtout un joli artefact pour les archéologues de notre litterature.

[Kenneth · Rating 4 out of 5]

An erotic French novel first published in 1896 and set in ancient Alexandria, Egypt, I read it in my high school years - my dad had the paperback copy. Pretty tame by today's standards but was cutting edge when first published. The story tells the tale of a courtesan named Chrysis and how Demetrios was her downfall, but I don't remember too much detail.

[Lucía Isidro Pérez · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was my first time reading an "erotic" book and I really liked it. The descriptions and the use of adjectives here is very well done. Even though it is a book from the XVIII century I understood almost all the terminology it used. It tells a story of greek gods mixed with the people that lived in Ancient Greece and the relation between these two.

[Maria Alejandra · Rating 5 out of 5]

Una narrativa fluida que nos sumerge en el mundo de las cortesanas de Alejandría: la sensualidad y los placeres de lo que pasa por el cuerpo. La cortesana más bella de todas, la más amada se sacrifica por vivir su ideal de Afrodita.

[Joseph · Rating 5 out of 5]

Vivid and well-researched portrayal of ancient Alexandria with great insights into desire, obsession and love, all portrayed in a beautiful and beautifully written story - a masterpiece.

[Isée · Rating 3 out of 5]

great book if you take the time to read it with hindsight knowing that it was written a long time ago. I was sometimes uncomfortable with some passages.

[mers · Rating 5 out of 5]

antiguo pero chapo

[Fernando Endara · Rating 5 out of 5]

“La sensualidad resulta la condición misteriosa, pero necesaria y creadora, del desenvolvimiento intelectual. Los que no han sentido hasta el último límite los apetitos de la carne, sea para amarlos o para maldecirlos, son incapaces por lo mismo de comprender toda la extensión de las necesidades del espíritu”. Pierre Louÿs.

Pierre Louÿs es un reconocido pornógrafo del fin del Siglo XIX, uno de los más grandes escritores eróticos de todos los tiempos, un autor iluminado que pregonó las delicias, las insuperables delicias del amor, la voluptuosidad y la pasión. Nacido en Gante (Bélgica) el 10 de diciembre de 1870, su estética se asoció al simbolismo y parnasianismo francés, aunque en la actualidad se lo conozca por su estilo erótico refinado y elegante que potencia las posibilidades sexuales femeninas. “Afrodita, novela de costumbres antiguas”, su primera novela, se publicó en 1896, alcanzando el éxito inmediato; las reediciones y ventas propiciaron la fama del joven que, ya había sorprendido al público con “Las canciones de Bilitis” (1984), una colección de versos lésbicos supuestamente traducidos del griego clásico, cuya autoría se atribuyó a una contemporánea de Safo pero que, al poco tiempo se descubrieron un divertimento literario del propio Louÿs. A diferencia de obras más explicitas del autor como “Las 3 hijas de su madre” o “Manual de urbanidad para jovencitas”, esta novela resalta por su intrigante manera de contar la historia y por su delicada forma de describir los encuentros pasionales. Veamos su trama y algunos de sus elementos más interesantes:

“Afrodita” reconstruye las costumbres de las cortesanas de la antigua Alejandría. Relata, con maestría, el enamoramiento feroz y calculador de Khrysís, artistas del amor, conocedora de los secretos de Duzi y de Isthar, de Ashthoreth y Adoni, de Atalanta y Palibothra; y Demetrios, semidios escultor que tallo a(la) Dios(a), a la única Diosa, la del amor, la belleza y el erotismo: la Afrodita que inspiró esta novela, esta reseña y estos deseos inusitados de erotismo, literatura y candor. La obra nos presenta a sus protagonismos envueltos en orgullo, perfidia, sueños y ambición. Khrysís fingiendo indiferencia, pidió a Demetrios tres acciones, tres robos, tres pecados, para ganarse su favor, su amor=esclavitud. Demetrios, temeroso pero decidido, se ensució las manos, cayó en las tentaciones del cuerpo esbelto y seductor de la cortesana, esperando el mejor momento del amor: aquel en que la desnudez se revela. Pero “Afrodita” no es una historia de romance, es un río de deseos desbocados. No, Khrysís y Demetrios no se aman, buscan la posesión, la esclavitud del objeto – no sujeto – amado; pero no es amor, es más bien una obsesión egoísta que se parece al amor, una batalla de egos y orgullo que se parece a la pasión, una intrincada idea de superioridad que se parece al deseo, una interacción de fuerzas lúbricas que se desatan para victimar al que muestra debilidad, un juego en donde ambos perderán, un enamoramiento narcisista en donde importa más hacerse amar que amar, en donde uno saldrá esclavo momentáneo y ambos terminarán destrozados -más o menos como el amor adolescente de la actualidad-.

Y es que, en efecto, Pierre Louÿs consideraba a Grecia y a la etapa de expansión del helenismo -después del apogeo de Alejandro Magno – como la juventud embriagada de la humanidad. Como aquel momento espaciotemporal en que la raza humana configuró los placeres más elevados y las ideas políticas y sociales más idóneas. El cuerpo, indica, antes de la moral judeocristiana no era un territorio prohibido, ni vedado, ni pecaminoso, todo lo contrario, era la celebración de la existencia, el tacto requerido y necesario, el beso, la caricia, el ardor, la humedad, la penetración vital y elevada. Por eso los personajes de Louÿs se entregan a la sexualidad más desatada con delirio y regocijo: las cortesanas disfrutan del oficio más viejo del mundo con locura, aceptando fingir todo cariño y sin rechazar ninguna abyección, en brazos de los hombres que pagan por el placer, y en brazos de las mujeres, que provocan el verdadero placer. Louÿs considera a las mujeres como los seres sexuales por excelencia, con mayor destreza, creatividad, capacidad, fortaleza, resistencia y potencia que los varones, por eso son el único vehículo “capaz de dar y recibir amor”, por eso entregarse a un solo hombre sería un desperdicio, por eso una pareja de mujeres es perfecta mientras una pareja heterosexual aspira a la mitad de la perfección.

Por supuesto “Afrodita” sacudió la moral parisina de finales del Siglo XIX porque mostró de manera abierta una nueva e idealizada - en realidad una vieja (y no por eso menos idealizada) - forma del amor: salvaje, irreductible, carnal, lúbrica, radiante, epicúrea. Su universo literario llevó la sexualidad al plano utópico, al referir una carnalidad libre de sus violencias asociadas, escribió sobre una prostitución inteligente, amena, fabulosa, en donde las cortesanas llevaron las riendas; no los chulos, no las agencias, no la trata, no el terror, no la coerción. La obra fue monumentalmente leída, incluso, malinterpretada: por décadas se consideró a Louÿs pionero de la novela histórica inspirada en la Grecia antigua, sobre todo porque después del éxito de “Afrodita” se sucedieron varios betsellers con esta temática. Sin embargo, las intenciones de Louÿs estaban lejanas de la reconstrucción histórica; su trabajo, más bien, trató de recuperar la moral antigua, alejada de la idea del bien y del mal, alejada de toda norma convencional. Si acaso existiera una dicotomía sería la del vicio y la virtud, y son ambas el camino: de prosperidad el primero, de infortunios la otra. “Afrodita” es una puerta de acceso al universo sexo-poético de Louÿs, un marco por donde el lector atraviesa para salir transformado, un pasaje para atisbar nuestra inhóspita sexualidad. Otra novela indispensable en cualquier biblioteca de erotismo o de la “literatura del mal”, aquella que ilumina los rincones más oscuros de la existencia humana, o eso decimos – como pretexto quizá-; cuando pudiera ser, más bien, aquella que oscurece nuestra luz, o, en otras palabras, la que nos recuerda que no somos seres de luz, que nos aterriza y nos recuerda nuestra animalidad, nuestro barro, nuestro polvo: aquella literatura leída y gozada por nuestros demonios, aquella que derriba los barrotes de nuestros prejuicios morales y nos permite dar rienda suelta a esta humanidad cruel, voluptuosa, absoluta. Que Pierre Louÿs sea una guía para la libertad=literatura, que nuestro culto sea para “Afrodita”, única Diosa a la cuál adorar.

[Lillzebub · Rating 4 out of 5]

Delicious licentiousness, villains and divinities, generalized extravagance, love, sex and violent death— Loüys’s Aphrodite revolves around the erotic, exalting the body and carnal pleasure (above all, lesbianism) unabashedly. The story’s revelry is tempered by encounters of the flesh that result in devastation, physical or mental. Although the novel is certainly dated in terms of its representation of women and non-white people in Alexandria, I hope to read more from Mr. Loüys, a self-professed pagan (lesbian) sex enthusiast.

[tevooks · Rating 4 out of 5]

No thoughts involved.

Le genre de livre qu'on lit discrètement dans le RER, et qu'on ferme brusquement parfois. On a pas vraiment envie d'arrêter, l'érotisme est omniprésent sans explicite pour autant, et la plume lyrique et appréciable.

Pris par hasard dans l'étagère des vieux livres de papa, m'aura occupé quelques semaines.

[La Pasión Inútil · Rating 4 out of 5]

Una novela de inclinación histórica que recupera la tensión entre la virtud y la pasión en la antigüedad, aunque está dotada del estilo simbolista y de muchos de los tópicos que dieron forma a este movimiento literario: el tedio, el sueño, la voluptuosidad y la huida artística. Un libro que vale la pena recuperar.

[Valper Ben · Rating 3 out of 5]

Es una historia ambientada en Alejandría en la época anterior a Cleopatra y se centra en una cortesana y sus conspiraciones El caso es que no es ni mucho menos una novela erótica, salvo por el hecho de que hay cortesanas y relaciones sexuales.

[Ariadna :) · Rating 5 out of 5]

He llorado con el último suspiro de la muerte. He deseado una daga para hundirla en el corazón de los hombres. He implorado el perdón de los crímenes más atroces del ser humano a una mano invisible. No me quedan palabras, pero aún me sobran lágrimas para derramar.

[MZ · Rating 4 out of 5]

idk how much i fw this but the prose was pretty and the ending was interesting

[Samantha · Rating 5 out of 5]

I adored this novel. I started reading it in French, but the language is very intricate and I really wanted to savour every sentence, so I opted to read it in English. I will reread it in French soon, though!

[Spoilers below]

The story begins with Chrysis, the main character, and Djala, her servant, who "sings" to Chrysis, with her tongue, while Chrysis is naked. Chrysis two best friends are Lesbians, too.
With the beautiful language Louys uses to describe the setting in Alexandria and in particular Chrysis beauty - blonde hair, like Aphrodite -, Demetrios was for me a little bit of an afterthought. He meets Chrysis and falls in love with her because she is the only one who does not desire him. Chrysis gives him three tasks, to steal a mirror, kill a priestess for her comb, and to take the necklace from the Aphrodite temple. After Demetrios commits the crimes for her, she falls in love with him but he rejects her, asking her to wear the three items in public instead, which leads to Chrysis being condemned to suicide with hemlock.

Ancient Manners are for sure demonstrated through this plot - desire, passion, wanting too much, wanting the wrong thing and being punished for it. Wanting the opposite of what you should want and being punished for it.
But there are also Ancient Manners hidden in the scenes in between the plot, in the evening party Chrysis attends with her friends where Bacchis is supposed to free her slave, but instead crucifies her after thinking the slave stole her mirror (the one Demetrios stole for Chrysis). At the party, the courtisans and their male philosopher friends also force a small girl to entertain them like she is a monkey... The display of shameless abundance and debauchery was striking in a book about the wants of people.

Chrysis wants more, she wants even more than Bacchis took with force (her slaves life in a quest for "justice" and entertainment). But interestingly, her and Demetrios only want each other when the other DOES NOT. Chrysis, at first, who has never loved a man (I do wonder about women...), only falls in love when he forgoes the Ancient Manners and kills and steals for her. Demetrios, who fell in love on first sight, but then turns so indifferent he not only watches Chrysis die but even uses her dead body as a references for a sculpture - he turns indifferent to Chrysis after dreaming about a night with her, which suffices him.

Chrysis already had so much, her beauty, her friends, the luxuries. Demetrios already had so much: his girlfriend is Queen Berenice, he is a famous sculptor, every woman wants him. And yet, there is a detailed description of a cult-like organisation the courtisans are in, sharing houses, sharing feasts, sharing duties. Does Chrysis the courtesan break free from the "cult"? Does she gain agency by falling in love with Demetrios or does she lose it? Does she seem more mortal when she falls in love with Demetrios or does she seem more godlike?
I argue she loses agency and she becomes more mortal. I argue that at the beginning of the novel - with Djala - she represents the ideal Aphrodite, beautiful and sensual, and that throughout the book she becomes corrupted. By attending the party, by falling in love with Demetrios, by dying.

But the lesbian friends - and Chrysis was very close to them, they all stayed together for one night - they are true worshippers of Chrysis both in her godlike state and in her mortal state, as they collect her body and bury it with honour. Demetrios however, he only appreciated Chrysis as Aphrodite, not as herself, because he turns indifferent to her when she becomes "real" and stops being a fantasy. Interestingly, Demetrios is also in love with the statue of Aphrodite, and also indifferent to Queen Berenice.

I'm just writing down my thoughts here, but it sounds to me like... there's a moral in there, somewhere. Maybe it's that we need to appreciate the real things around us instead of chasing after ideals?