Showing posts with label Conflict. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Conflict. Show all posts

5/1/24

. . . 
And one of them, who seemed to take offense,

perhaps at being named so squalidly,
struck with his fist at Adam’s rigid belly.

It sounded as if it had been a drum;
and Master Adam struck him in the face,
using his arm, which did not seem less hard,

saying to him: “Although I cannot move
my limbs because they are too heavy, I
still have an arm that’s free to serve that need.”

And he replied: “But when you went to burning,
your arm was not as quick as it was now;
though when you coined, it was as quick and more.”

To which the dropsied one: “Here you speak true;
but you were not so true a witness there,
when you were asked to tell the truth at Troy.”

“If I spoke false, you falsified the coin,”
said Sinon; “I am here for just one crime—
but you’ve committed more than any demon.”

“Do not forget the horse, you perjurer,”
replied the one who had the bloated belly,
“may you be plagued because the whole world knows it.”

The Greek: “And you be plagued by thirst that cracks
your tongue, and putrid water that has made
your belly such a hedge before your eyes.”

And then the coiner: “So, as usual,
your mouth, because of racking fever, gapes;
for if I thirst and if my humor bloats me,

you have both dryness and a head that aches;
few words would be sufficient invitation
to have you lick the mirror of Narcissus.”

I was intent on listening to them
when this was what my master said: “If you
insist on looking more, I’ll quarrel with you!”

And when I heard him speak so angrily,
I turned around to him with shame so great
that it still stirs within my memory.

Even as one who dreams that he is harmed
and, dreaming, wishes he were dreaming, thus
desiring that which is, as if it were not,

so I became within my speechlessness:
I wanted to excuse myself and did
excuse myself, although I knew it not.

Dante's Inferno, Canto XXX (Mendelbaum's translation)

12/8/13

Nobody really remembers easy stories [where characters do not face much conflict. But in good stories,] characters have to face their greatest fears with courage. That's what makes a story good. If you think about the stories you like most, they probably have lots of conflict. There is probably death at stake, inner death or actual death. . . . These polar charges, these happy and sad things in life, are like colors God uses to draw the world. 
I was watching the news the other night, and they were still covering that story in Mumbai about the terrorists who went on a shooting rampage. . . . I kept imagining [the victims], just living their daily lives, and then having them suddenly ended in unjust tragedy. When we watch the news, we grieve all of this, but when we go to the movies, we want more of it. Somehow we realize that great stories are told in conflict, but we are unwilling to embrace the potential greatness of the story we are actually in. We think God is unjust, rather than a master storyteller.

Don Miller, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, pp. 31-32