The beauty of a moral act depends upon the beauty of its expression. To say that it is beautiful is to decide that it will be so. It remains to be proven so. This is the task of images, that is, of the correspondences with the splendors of the physical world. The act is beautiful if it provokes, and in our throat reveals, song. Sometimes the consciousness with which we have pondered a reputedly vile act, the power of expression which must signify it, impel us to song. This means that it is beautiful if treachery makes us sing. To betray thieves would be not only to find myself again in the moral world, I thought, but also to find myself once more in homosexuality. As I grow strong, I am my own god. I dictate. Applied to men, the word beauty indicates to me the harmonious quality of a face and body to which I sometimes add manly grace. Beauty is then accompanied by magnificent, masterly, sovereign gestures. We imagine that they are determinded by very special moral attitudes, and by the cultivation of such virtues within ourselves we hope to endow our poor faces and sick bodies with the vigor that our lovers possess naturally. Alas, these virtues, which they themselves never possess, are our weakness.
A young pimp in a bar, squatting on his haunches and playing with a puppy: this playfulness seemed to me so unusual that I smiled with pleasure at pimp and puppy; I had understood them. And also that the bus, which was full of serious and hurried people, would courteously stop at the diminutive sign of a child's fingers. Seeing a stiff hair threateningly emerge from Stilitatno's nostril, without trembling I took a pair of scissors to cut it off.
Later on, when, without refusing to get excited about a handsome boy, I applied the same detachment; when I allowed myself to be aroused and when, refusing the emotion the right to rule me, I examined it with the same lucidity; I was aware of what my love was; on the basis of my love I established relationships with the world; this was the birth of intelligence.
Creating is not a somewhat frivolous game. The creator has committed himself to the fearful adventure of taking upon himself, to the very end, the perils risked by his creatures. We can not suppose a creation whose origin is not love. How can a man place before himself something as strong as himself which he will have to scorn or hate? But the creator will then charge himself with the weight of his characters' sins. Jesus became man. he expiated. Later, like God, after creating men, He delivered them from their sins: He was whipped, spat upon, mocked, nailed. That is the meaning of the expression: 'He suffers in his flesh.' Let us ignore the theologians. 'Taking upon Himself the sins of the world' means quite exactly: experiencing potentially and in their effects all sins; it means having subscribed to evil. Every creator must thus take upon his back -- the expression seems feeble -- must make his own, to the point of knowing it to be his substance, circulating in his arteries, the evil given by him, which his heroes choose freely. We wish to regard this as one of the many uses of the generous myths of Creation and Redemption. Theough the creator grants free will to his characters, the free disposition of himself, he hopes in the depths of his heart that they will choose Good. Every lover doeslikewise, hoping to be loved for his own sake.