(At this, a few members of the audience, including Paul, laughed.)
“Guido cloaks himself in Franciscan robes and preemptive absolution, but he’s a fraud. Francis would have known this. If anything, Guido shamed the Franciscans by behaving the way he did.
“Although Francis could have condemned Guido’s sin, he remains silent. He can’t save Guido. He has to watch as the demon takes Guido by the hair and drags him down.
“The ugliness of the demon’s shouting and Guido’s false Franciscanism appear even worse when contrasted with Francis’s quiet, pious presence. His silence and lack of action give the lie to the demon’s explanation that Francis is there to steal. And his silence forces us to reexamine Guido’s tale.
“Would Francis have been so passive in trying to rescue a soul that was condemned unjustly? Of course not. But since Guido hasn’t repented of his sin, all Francis can offer him is his silent compassion and, possibly, his prayers.”
Julia paused and intentionally looked in Christa’s direction.
“Francis could have argued with the demon. He could have called him a liar for presenting a false account of his appearance. He could have protested that the demon is simply gossiping about him. But instead of fighting to preserve his good name, Francis is quiet so that the evil can be heard for exactly what it is.”
Julia shifted her gaze to the other conferencegoers, noting numerous nods of agreement and Paul’s wide, expressive grin.
“Guido would have us believe that St. Francis was either gullible enough to believe that Guido belonged in Heaven or arrogant enough to believe that he could second-guess God. Guido would have us believe that Francis confronted a demon but lost, because he wasn’t smart enough to best the demon in a match of logic.
“Francis’s life and his actions give the lie to those possibilities. In my view, he comes to the grave of Guido da Montefeltro to mourn him and his life of fraud, not to rescue him. In so doing, Francis manifests compassion and mercy, although it is a severe mercy.” At this, Julia’s eyes met her husband’s.
“Francis was not a thief. He was not deceptive or fraudulent, and he made no attempt to use vain words to further his cause. If anything, Guido captured the essence of Francis’s nature by describing him as being present but silent.
“It’s surprising, perhaps, that someone so skilled in fraud would be so adept at painting a picture of virtue. But when we reflect on the stories Francis’s followers told about his life and works, we see that that’s exactly what Guido does, even though he attempts to overshadow the picture with his skillful use of rhetoric.
“In conclusion, I think that the two historical interpretations of this passage are mistaken. Francis appeared at the death of Guido, but not to steal his soul.
“Francis’s appearance contrasts true Franciscanism with the false Franciscanism of Guido da Montefeltro. If anything, Dante uses Guido as a foil to praise the piety of St. Francis by providing a stark contrast between the two men. Thank you.”
Julia nodded at the audience as they offered her a respectable level of applause. She noticed several of the academics whispering to one another before her eyes found the faces of Professors Picton, Marinelli, and Emerson.
Gabriel winked, and her face broke into a relieved smile.
“Are there any questions?” Julia asked, turning to the audience.
There was a moment that in Julia’s mind seemed to last forever, in which no one spoke. She found Christa’s face and watched her conflicted expression, and believed that she had escaped unscathed.
Then, as if in slow motion, Christa’s expression changed and hardened. She scrambled to her feet.
Out of the corner of her eye, Julia saw Professor Pacciani take hold of Christa’s elbow somewhat roughly, trying to pull her back into her seat. But Christa wrenched her arm free.
“I have a question.”
Julia bit her lip unconsciously, her heart leaping into her throat.
As if it had been choreographed, every member of the audience turned to look at Christa. Several conferencegoers whispered to their neighbors, their eyes alive with anticipation. Christa’s conflict with the Emersons was well known now by almost every attendee. Indeed, the room began to buzz with a kind of nervous energy as everyone wondered what she was going to say.
“There are so many holes in your paper, I don’t know where to begin. But let’s start with your research, such as it is.” Christa’s tone was contemptuous. “The majority of papers on this passage accept the fact that Francis came for Guido. A few recent papers deny that Francis appeared. But no one”—she paused for emphasis—“no one thinks that Francis appeared but not for Guido’s soul. Either Guido is lying or he isn’t. It can’t be half and half, like cream.”
She smirked as a few members of the audience laughed.
Julia swallowed hard, her eyes darting around the room, reading everyone’s reaction before returning to Christa’s.
“Furthermore, you don’t even mention the beginning of canto twenty-seven, when Guido explains to Dante that he’s telling the truth because he thinks that Dante will spend the rest of eternity in Hell and therefore won’t be able to tell anyone what really happened. That passage demonstrates that Guido is telling the truth about Francis’s appearance.
“Finally, if you’d bothered to read Professor Hutton’s seminal work on the organization of the Inferno, you’d know that he thought the demon’s speech was reliable because his words were historically accurate. So Hutton thought that Francis appeared for Guido’s soul, too.”
With a proud smile, Christa sat down, waiting for Julia’s response. She was so proud of herself, so self-satisfied, she missed the look that Professor Picton gave to Professor Pacciani. The look indicated very clearly that Katherine was holding Pacciani responsible for the flamboyant behavior of his guest, and that she was not pleased with that behavior. In response, Professor Pacciani whispered in Christa’s ear, gesticulating wildly.
Julia simply stood there, blinking rapidly, while every single person in the room waited for her answer.
Gabriel moved forward in his chair, as if he were going to stand. He thought better of it, however, when Professor Picton narrowed her eyes at him. The expression on his face was thunderous as he glared in Christa’s direction.
Paul muttered an expletive and folded his arms across his chest.
Professor Picton simply nodded at Julia, her face a picture of confidence.