All that remains: Part I
In the land just past the Decapolis, by the tombs of the city's most ancient forebears, there lived a man called Legion. Some days, he howled like a beast, laughing as he savaged his own flesh with the jagged edges of stones. Other days he wept like a child, teeth chattering even as the sun blazed overhead. But more days still, he lingered in the quiet spaces, haunted but lucid: A stranger to the land and a stranger to himself.
He called himself Legion because he was made of many parts. Memories without attachments, stories without endings. Fragments. Worse, he felt like he could only hold a few of the pieces at a time. Trying to assemble himself felt like an endless effort of cupping his hands together tight, filling them with details, reaching up to his mouth, and realizing they had already slipped through his fingers. An endless thirst for which he had no cure.
The town called him Legion, because they remembered what he often forgot: That he was a Roman, as well as a former soldier. If he’d been anything less, they’d have driven him away. Instead, they fussed over him endlessly, all too aware that to harm a single hair upon his head was to invoke the wrath of the largest army the world had ever seen.
(Which was a problem, because he was all too willing to harm himself.)
On Legion’s good days they simply gave him space. He’d tried describing once, all the things that could bring his demons out: The clash of metal, the twang of a bowstring. A scream of pain. Those were easy enough to remember and avoid, but others were not. Certain phrases in Latin, ones related to marching, used for giving directions. Certain smells - the roasting of pork, the burning of sulfur. The way some men from distant lands braided their hair.
So many little things.
They were a lot to keep track of, and the cost of failure was high. It seemed easier for the people of the town to simply avoid him altogether. That it let them ignore his suffering was simply a pleasant side effect.
On his bad days, they had to intervene more directly. He was strong when he was well, but his sickness could make him almost invincible. Whole teams of men would be sent into the tombs while he screamed and roared, and it could take them hours to tie him down and pry the rocks from his trembling fingers. To put a rolled up rag into his mouth and silence the phrase he shouted over and over, summoning more demons into himself with each incantation: TORNA MIRA, TALIS EST COMODUM MILES BARBATI.
Sometimes, it took more than a day of being restrained that way for him to find himself again. They’d send children out to the edge of the town to listen, and when he finally went silent they’d travel back to free him from his chains. It was a beastly, shameful task every time, and Legion made it worse by never being angry. Without fail, the first thing he said every time the rag was removed was:
Συγγνώμη, δεν ήθελα να σε τρομάξω.
Forgive me, I did not mean to scare you.
Everyone knew that the way things were being handled wasn’t enough. Everyone, even Legion, knew how things would end. They just weren’t sure when.
It turned out that it was longer than six years.
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Botticelli’s Map of Hell
Our modern vision of hell is deeply rooted in the literary and artistic works of the past, with one of the most significant contributions being Sandro Botticelli’s Map of Hell. This masterpiece, created approximately 700 years ago, offers a visual representation of the infernal realms as imagined by Dante Alighieri in his epic poem, "The Divine Comedy." The symbiotic relationship between Dante's literary creation and Botticelli's artistic interpretation has profoundly influenced how we perceive hell even today.
Dante Alighieri, an Italian poet, writer, and philosopher, penned "The Divine Comedy" in the early 14th century. The poem is divided into three parts: Inferno (Hell), Purgatorio (Purgatory), and Paradiso (Paradise). In Inferno, Dante embarks on a harrowing journey through the nine circles of hell, guided by the Roman poet Virgil. Each circle represents a different sin and its corresponding punishment, meticulously detailed by Dante’s vivid imagination and profound theological insights.
Dante’s vision of hell was revolutionary. It combined classical mythology, Christian theology, and medieval philosophy, creating a complex and terrifying afterlife landscape. His work not only reflected the religious beliefs of his time but also influenced future generations' understanding of sin, punishment, and the moral consequences of earthly actions.
About 150 years after Dante’s death, Sandro Botticelli, a renowned Renaissance painter, undertook the ambitious project of illustrating "The Divine Comedy." Among his works, the Map of Hell stands out as a detailed and haunting depiction of Dante’s infernal realms. Botticelli’s illustration, created around 1480, serves as a visual guide to the intricate and layered structure of hell described by Dante.
Botticelli’s Map of Hell is a parchment drawing that meticulously outlines the descending circles of hell, each with its unique torments and sinners. The precision and detail in Botticelli’s work capture the essence of Dante’s narrative, making the abstract horrors of hell more tangible and accessible to the viewers. His ability to convey the emotional and physical anguish of the damned souls adds a visceral quality to Dante’s literary vision.
The collaboration between Dante’s literary genius and Botticelli’s artistic mastery has had a lasting impact on our cultural and religious conception of hell. Even today, many of the common images and ideas associated with hell—such as fire and brimstone, eternal torment, and the hierarchical structure of punishments—can be traced back to Dante’s Inferno and Botticelli’s Map of Hell.
Modern depictions of hell in literature, art, and popular culture often draw inspiration from these medieval works. Whether in horror films, graphic novels, or theological discussions, the influence of Dante and Botticelli is unmistakable. Their portrayal of hell as a place of moral reckoning and divine justice continues to resonate with contemporary audiences, reflecting enduring questions about sin, punishment, and redemption.
Sandro Botticelli’s Map of Hell, based on Dante Alighieri’s "The Divine Comedy," remains a cornerstone of our understanding of the infernal realms. The interplay between Dante’s poetic vision and Botticelli’s artistic interpretation has shaped our collective imagination, defining hell for over seven centuries. As we continue to explore and reinterpret these works, their profound impact on our perception of the afterlife endures, reminding us of the power of art and literature to shape our deepest beliefs and fears.
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“You should only be trusting the synoptic gospels that are ~actual eyewitness historical accounts~ instead of heretical gnostic gospels of people who do not know what they’re talking about—” just say you hate fun and sexiness
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And Cadfael returned along the path with the uncomfortable feeling that God, nevertheless, required a little help from men, and what he mostly got was hindrance.
— A Morbid Taste for Bones (Ellis Peters)
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i think the personal biggest, most pleasant surprise to come out of all of the tragedy going on right now is that my mom cares about it -- which doesnt seem like a huge deal, its the normal human reaction to care about murder, but for her entire life she has been in a doomsday cult that tells you again and again "dont mind politics, dont vote, you belong to no nation, dont think about wars they dont concern you, youre only concerned with god and living by his good word." the past year or so she's Really woken up and is actively seeking out the ways in which being in the cult has hurt her so that she knows what parts of herself she needs to look at and heal, so for her to be backing me in wanting to go volunteer to help organize medical shipments and keeping up with boycotting is just a really good sign that she has pretty much broken away from the things she was taught and that even if she can't physically leave, she knows the "spiritual food" theyre "feeding the flock" is bullshit
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