Seth Shoneman
To lose complete control of oneself for an instant, to forget the mortality of the human condition and let animalistic impulse take over, then to return to composure with intense relief: this is what, in part, Donna Tartt’s The Secret History explores. This exploration begins with the novel’s professor, Julian, lecturing his pupils about the benefits of such a temporary loss of control referred to as Dionysiac ritual, or a bacchanal. The above excerpt, taken from the end of his lecture, is an expression of Julian’s agreement with Dionysiac practice, and his deliberate attempt to convince his students of its merit. He not only finds the subject intellectually stimulating, but valuable in practice, and his discussion of it directly leads to his students’ later attempt at replication.
“Dionysus was the Greek god of fertility. Later, he came to be known chiefly as the god of wine and pleasure. The Romans called him Bacchus. …
Excessive drinking and debauchery generally accompanied the cult of
Dionysus, giving rise to the word ‘bacchanalia’ for a party featuring drunken revelry”(Rijks Museum).
Fig. 1. Bust of Dionysus. 1770. Greek Art Shop. https://tinyurl.com/2zh528rd.
Julian thinks of Dionysiac ritual as a unique, immensely beautiful experience. He believes it to provide a religious euphoria, one that comes from allowing God to “consume,” “devour,” and “unstring” the practitioner. With this brutal image, he claims the ritual to be a way of “rip[ing] away the veil” to experience a feeling of “terrible beauty.” Julian has earlier claimed that “beauty is terror,” and so, by his own logic, the “terrible seduction” of the ritual is a beautiful draw (Tartt 39). The “terrible beauty” to be found is one above all others, and is thus, for Julian, a convincing argument to practice Dionysiac ritual.
Julian’s motivation in lecturing about the bacchanal, and expressing his personal thoughts thereof, is to convince his students to agree. The group he teaches is chosen for having what he sees as “classical” as opposed to “modern” minds, a distinction made by the narrator in their earlier conversation (Tartt 29). He believes them and himself to be especially intelligent and composed, and for the loss of that composure to be particularly “hard for [them]” to imagine. He believes, for the “classical” rather than the “modern,” that the ritual has incredible positive effects. Thus, his strategy of persuasion is to appeal to their sense of personal strength “in [their] souls” and communicate the idea that such a ritual can only be performed by those who are worthy. This entices his students to consider the ritual as a method of proving themselves worthy, a desire which is strengthened by a presentation of the rewarding aspects within, namely the ability to experience “that fire of pure being” and be “reborn.” Julian believes his students are the most susceptible audience to agreeing with him and yearns to convince them of his views on Dionysiac ritual because he believes that they will benefit from it profusely.
This fresco from Pompeii, Italy is a depiction of a young girl practicing a bacchanal as a rite of passage into Womanhood (Odorisio).
Julian’s persuasion is ultimately successful in making a deep and lasting connection with his students. After listening to his ideas, they are in complete awe, “leaning forward, motionless.” They take his message to heart and even, drawn by the “very great” appeal to “stop being [themselves],” “decide to try to have a bacchanal” (Tartt 163-4). The ancient ritual is brought into the present and attempted as a direct result of his teachings.
The proper inspection of Julian’s lesson on terrible beauty and the bacchanal is integral to understanding his students’ later motivation to attempt it. This lesson sets up a major plot point of the novel and directly leads to a turning point in the lives of Julian’s students when they do see the consequences of Dionysiac practice. By understanding their motivation, the reader is also less likely to simply dismiss the students’ actions as nonsensical. This deeper reading can elevate what I find to be the most impressive quality of Tartt’s novel: the line of logic created from innocence to guilt, and how, with a close eye, even the most heinous of acts, like murder, become understandable.