Sylvain Reynard - Gabriel's Rapture

The lecture was being delivered in the Botticelli room, which was

devoted to the finest of his works. In fact, the lectern was situated in between the Birth of Venus and the Madonna of the Pomegranate , while Primavera hung to the audience’s right. The artwork on the 20

Gabriel’s Rapture

wall to the audience’s left had been removed, and a large screen had been hung, on which Gabriel’s PowerPoint slides would be projected.

She knew how unusual it was to have a lecture in such a special

space and silently said a prayer of thanks for this incredible blessing.

When she’d spent her junior year in Florence she’d visited the Botticelli room at least once a week and sometimes more often. She found his

art both soothing and inspiring. As a shy American undergraduate,

she never would have imagined that, two years later, she would be accompanying a world-renowned Dante specialist as he lectured in that very room. She felt as if she’d won the lottery a thousand times over.

More than one hundred people crowded into the room, some

even spilling into the standing area at the back. Julia watched Gabriel as he was introduced to various important looking guests. He was

a very attractive man, tall and ruggedly handsome. She especially

admired his glasses and the way his sleek, dark suit fit perfectly.

When he was blocked from her view by other people, she focused

her attention on picking out his voice. He chatted amiably, switching seamlessly from Italian to French to German and back to Italian again.

(Even his German was sexy.)

She grew warm as she remembered what Gabriel looked like

under his suit, his form naked and strained above her. She wondered if he was having similar thoughts whenever he looked at her, and in the midst of her private musings, he made eye contact and winked.

His momentary display of playfulness put her in mind of their in-

terlude on the terrace that morning, and a pleasant tremor traveled up and down her spine.

Gabriel sat politely through Dottore Vitali’s introduction, which took no less than fifteen minutes as he painstakingly rehearsed the professor’s accomplishments. To the casual observer, Gabriel appeared relaxed, almost bored. His nervousness was telegraphed by the way

he unconsciously shuffled his lecture notes, notes that were merely an outline to the remarks that would come from his heart. He’d

made a few last minute changes to his lecture. He couldn’t speak

of muses, love, and beauty without acknowledging the brown-eyed

angel who’d bravely given herself to him the evening before. She was his inspiration, and she’d been so since she was seventeen. Her quiet beauty and generous goodness had touched his heart. He’d carried

her image with him as a talisman against the dark demons of addic-

tion. She was everything to him, and by God, he’d say so publicly.

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Sylvain Reynard

After much flattery and applause, he took his place behind the

podium and addressed the crowd in fluid Italian. “My lecture this

evening will be somewhat unusual. I am not an art historian, yet

I will be speaking to you about Sandro Botticelli’s muse, La Bella Simonetta.” At this, his eyes sought Julia’s.

She smiled, trying to suppress the blush that threatened her

cheeks. She knew the story of Botticelli and Simonetta Vespucci.

Simonetta was referred to as the Queen of Beauty in the court of Florence, prior to her death at the tender age of twenty-two. To be compared to Simonetta by Gabriel was very high praise, indeed.

“I am tackling this controversial topic as a professor of literature, choosing Botticelli’s artwork as a representation of various female archetypes. Historically speaking, there have been many debates as to how close Simonetta was to Botticelli and to what degree she was the actual inspiration for his paintings. I hope to skirt some of those disagreements in order to focus your attention on a straightforward visual comparison of a few figures.

“I shall begin with the first three slides. In them, you will recognize pen and ink illustrations of Dante and Beatrice in Paradise.”

Gabriel couldn’t help but admire the images himself, transported

as he was to the first time he’d welcomed Julianne into his home.

That was the night he’d realized how much he wanted to please her, how beautiful she looked when she was happy.

As he gazed at the quiescence of Beatrice’s expression, he com-

pared her countenance with Julia’s. She sat with rapt attention, her lovely head turned in profile as she admired Botticelli’s handiwork.

Gabriel wanted to make her look at him.

“Notice Beatrice’s face.” His voice grew soft as his eyes met those of his sweetheart. “The most beautiful face…

“We begin with Dante’s muse and the figure of Beatrice. Al-

though I’m sure she needs no introduction, allow me to point out

that Beatrice represents courtly love, poetic inspiration, faith, hope, and charity. She is the ideal of feminine perfection, at once intelligent and compassionate, and vibrant with the kind of selfless love that can only come from God. She inspires Dante to be a better man.”

Gabriel paused a moment to touch his tie. It did not need

straightening, but his fingers lingered against the blue silk. Julia blinked at the gesture, and Gabriel knew that he’d been understood.

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Gabriel’s Rapture

“Now consider the face of the goddess Venus.”

All eyes in the room except Gabriel’s focused on the Birth of

Venus . He looked over his notes eagerly as the audience admired one of Botticelli’s greatest and largest works.

“It appears that Venus has Beatrice’s face. Once again, I’m not

interested in a historical analysis of the models for the painting. I’m simply asking you to note the visible similarities between the figures.

They represent two muses, two ideal types, one theological and one secular. Beatrice is the lover of the soul; Venus is the lover of the body. Botticelli’s La Bella has both faces — one of sacrificial love or agape , and one of sexual love or eros.”

His voice deepened, and Julia found her skin warming at the

sound.

“In the portrait of Venus, the emphasis is on her physical beauty.

Even though she represents sexual love, she maintains a venerable

modesty, clutching part of her hair in order to cover herself. Notice the demure expression and the placement of her hand across her

breast. Her shyness increases the eroticism of her portrayal — it doesn’t diminish it.” He removed his glasses for dramatic effect and fixed Julia with an unblinking eye. “Many people fail to see how modesty and sweetness of temper compound erotic appeal.”

Julia fidgeted with the zipper on her purse, resisting the urge to squirm in her seat. Gabriel replaced his glasses.

“Eros is not lust. According to Dante, lust is one of the seven deadly sins. Erotic love can include sex but is not limited to it. Eros is the all-consuming fire of infatuation and affection that is expressed in the emotion of being in love . And believe me when I say that it far outstrips the rivals for its affections, in every respect.”

Julia couldn’t help but notice the dismissive way with which he’d

pronounced the word rivals , punctuating his expression with a wave of his hand. It was as if he were casting aside all previous lovers with a mere gesture, while his blazing blue eyes fixed on her.

“Anyone who has ever been in love knows the difference between

eros and lust. There’s no comparison. One is an empty, unfulfilling shadow of the other.