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3. Life in Carthage
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BOOK THREE Chapter 1 no CARTHAGE I CAME, and a hissing cauldron1 of shameful loves seethed around me on all sides. I was not in love, yet I loved to love and, in the hidden depths of unsated desire, I hated myself for my partial lack of desire. I sought some object that I might love, loving the very act of love j I hated peace of mind and a path unbeset by pitfalls.2 For, though I was hungry within me with the lack of that inner food which is Thyself, my God, I experienced no longing as a result of that hunger. Rather, I lacked the desire for incorruptible nourishment, not because I was filled with it, but, the more empty I was, the greater my loathing became. And that is why my soul was unhealthy and, in its ulcerated condition, projected itself into the open/ I The assonance of Carthago ... sartago can hardly be reproduced in English. Many ancient writers have commented on the licentiousness of life in Carthage. Salvian, writing in the fifth century, said: 'What portion of the city was not filled with indecency, what street or path within the city was not a brothel?' (The Governance of God 7.17, trans. J. F. O'Sullivan in this series, New York 1947). 2 Cf. Wisd. 14.l1. 3 Cf. De vera relig. 39.72. 49 50 SAINT AUGUSTINE wretchedly desirous of being scraped4 in friction with sensible things. Yet, if they had no soul, they would certainly not have been loved. To love and to be loved was far sweeter to me, if I also succeeded in enjoying my beloved in the flesh. Thus, I muddied the waters of friendship with the filth of concupiscence, and I beclouded its brightness with the scum of lust. Yet, though filthy and unsightly, I strove in excessive vanity to appear refined and polished. So, I plunged headlong into love and desired to be taken over by it. 0 my God, my Mercy, with how much bitterness didst Thou, in Thy goodness, sprinkle that which was sweet to me!5 For, I was loved and I both achieved in secret the bond of enjoyment and was joyfully tied down by the entwinements of calamity, to be beaten with iron rods, burning with jealousy, suspicions, and fears, with fits of anger and quarrels. Chapter 2 (2 ) Theatrical shows, filled with depictions of my miseries and with tinder for my own fire, completely carried me away. What is it that makes a man want to become sad in beholding mournful and tragic events which he himself would not willingly undergo?6 Yet, as he watches, he wishes to suffer their sorrow; this sorrow is his own pleasure. What is this but a wretched weakness of mind? For, the less sane a person is in regard to such feelings, the more he is moved by these things; although, when he himself suffers, it is usually called misery; when he suffers for others, compassion.7 But, what 4 Cf. Job 2.7·8. 5 Cf. Plato. Gorgias 509. For 'my Mercy,' d. Ps. 14!1.2. 6 Augustine seems here to be unaware of Aristotle's theory of cathar· sis (Poetics 6.1049b27). Rather, he seems to agree with Plato (Rep. 10.606) on the debilitating influence of passions. 7 misericordia: Augustine explains this word for mercy or compassion in De morib. eccl. Cath. 27.5!1: 'Who does not know that misericordia CONFESSIONS: BOOK THREE 51 kind of compassion is in the make-believe things of the theatre? A member of the audience is not incited to give help; rather, he is simply enticed to feel sorrow: the more sorrowful he becomes, the more highly does he regard the author of those presentations. Thus, if these calamitous events of the men of old, or of fiction, are so presented that the spectator is not moved to sorrow, he goes away scornful and critical; but, if he does become sorrowful, he remains, giving full attention and enjoying it. (3) Tears, then, and sorrows are loved. Every man, of course, desires to be joyful. Or is it that, though no one takes pleasure in being miserable, one still may be pleased by being compassionate, which is not possible without sorrow, and for this one reason sorrows are loved? This, too, springs from that stream of friendship. But where is it going; whither does it flow? Why does it rush down into that torrent of...