The Monkalong, Part Three: "Pusillanimity" and Other Words I Should Probably Know...

Apparently we're still monking (auto-correct just changed that to mocking, to which I say... Well, ok then) along and I wouldn't say I'm losing the will to live because of this book, but it didn't help my desire for living when combined with the raging tonsillitis I'm dealing with this week (woo, autumn! Damn everything.) HOWEVER, it would be churlish to be too mean about this week's section since no one went on about things that were wholly irrelevant to the plot for 10,000 pages so technically things are looking up!

I mean, apart from the fact that a deal has been made with the devil (literally, the devil) so that a Monk can rape a teenager who may or may not be his sister. That's possibly not such a good aspect of this book. And may be one of the worst things I've heard. Like ever. In life.

UGH, what even happened in this section? Ok, so Ambrosio like really likes sex. Like really really really he has found his favourite thing in the whole world, and that favourite thing is sex.

Obviously, he's already getting bored of Matilda because men are inconstant whilst women are clingy, but that doesn't stop more of the sexing, "The luxurious and unbounded excesses of the former night were renewed, and they separated not until the bell rang for matins." because obviously he's going to do it all night now that he understands the difference between men and women's bodies. Obviously.

Especially creepy (and creepiness is kind of the hallmark of their relationship) between Matilda and Ambrosio is the way in which she so easily offers to get him Antonia, as if getting him the woman he desires is the way to keep him. HAVE SOME SELF-RESPECT, MATILDA (but also, like, don't arrange another lady's rape, mmmmkay?) Obviously Matilda is a devil-worshipper (or, more accurately, someone who is IN CHARGE of the devil) because as a strong and intelligent woman, she obviously has the power of hell behind her because why wouldn't she? Of course, Ambrosio doesn't find her intelligence sexually attractive, cause YAWN: "Every moment convinced him of the astonishing powers of her mind; but what she gained in the opinion of the man, she lost with interest in the affection of the lover" and even makes a sweeping generalisation about all women that doesn't make me want to stab things at all: "Pity is a sentiment so natural, so appropriate to the female character, that it is scarcely a merit for a woman to possess it, but to be without it is a previous crime."

I meaaaan... Generalise much, Lewis? Goddamn 18th Century with its 18th Century ideas about women and class and goddamn everything.

Let's see, what else... Well, Leonella! She got married! To which all I can say is, you go girl! I guess. I mean, it's not exactly the MOST romantic union since she kind of bought the guy and all, but since this book has taught us nothing if not that sex is the most important thing, then at least Leonella isn't an old lady virgin anymore. And Agnes probably isn't dead! You know, yet. I can't tell if this book is about to have a fairytale ending where the REALLY bad guys (the monk and the devil-monk-lady) go to hell and Agnes and whatshisname and Antonia and thatguy get to go off and get married, or if, essentially, like a Shakespearean tragedy, everyone's going to die in the end. I honestly don't know, isn't it exciting?! (no).

Of course, the bloody nun ghost could just as easily come back and kill them all through lack of sleep, WHO CAN SAY?! No one. Except us in a couple of weeks, I guess.