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Seven Sins, Multiple Roads

by

Lauren Roberts

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The seven deadly sins are a source of religious values for some and a boisterous life roadmap for others. They are also the focus of an unusual series by Oxford University Press ($17.95 each) in conjunction with the New York Public Library. For more than a decade, these two institutions have invited prominent figures in arts and letters to deliver a series of lectures on a topic of her or his choosing. One of those lecture-and-book series was on the nature of evil.

From 2003 through 2006, each so-called deadly sin was explored by a different writer. Simon Blackburn began the series with Lust, followed by Francine Prose with Gluttony, Phyllis A. Tickle with Greed, Wendy Wasserstein with Sloth, Robert A. F. Thurman with Anger, Joseph Epstein with Envy and Michael Eric Dyson with Pride.

What originally attracted me to these books was their design. On the smallish side (about 5” x7”) and short (50-120 pages), with stunning illustrations (color and B&W), jewel-tone cover colors, simple designs and brilliant endpapers, they drew my attention immediately. But covers only go so far. It’s what’s inside that matters. And inside these books are some of the most interesting, contemplative inquiries I’ve ever run across.  

Glancing through them, reading the editor's notes, I was struck by this unusual approach to what I had heretofore thought of as religiously-themed ideas. But they are not. Elda Rotor, series editor, noted that sources for “early lists of transgressions” emerged as early as the 4th  century. “Throughout history,” Rotor writes, “the famous list has emerged in theological and philosophical tracts, psychology, politics, social criticism, popular culture, and art and literature. Whether the seven deadly to you represent the most common human foibles or more serious spiritual shortcomings, they stir the imagination and invoke the inevitable question—what is your deadly sin?”

I could not, in this single column, write about all seven and do justice to any of them. I have read four, skimmed one more and glanced at two. But in doing so, I realized that the quality is all equally high and many of the authors used the same general roads to explore “their” particular sins. So my focus here will be on one with a notation to the reader that much of what I say can be extrapolated to the others in the series.

Francine Prose embarks on a journey through history, Judeo-Christianity, literature and art in her exploration of gluttony and its place in the role of human culture. Her writing is spirited and thorough. Even her humor peeks through occasionally, giving us a well-rounded and fascinating perspective on this sin which has, as she notes, “the most intriguing and paradoxical history.” The reason lies in the fact that gluttony arises from hunger, as lust does from sexual desire, and both are essential instincts for survival. The early philosophers and thinkers (especially of the Christian variety) apparently saw no problem with turning these instincts into sin. In a question that outlines the wide parameters of this book, Prose asks, “How did overeating become not merely a vice but one of the cardinal vices?”

Early theologians argued that the first principal objection to gluttony and the reason it was a sin was that it detracted one’s attention from faith and become a substitute for it. The second objection was that gluttony weakened humans, making it easy for moral defenses to admit lechery and debauchery (especially as, in those days, when the term included drink). Food and drink produced a state in which the rational self gave way to sinful desires. And so it was viewed—for centuries. It took the Renaissance and, later, the Industrial Revolution, with their admiration of “Rubenesque” women and substantial men, to finally cut the umbilical cord between gluttony and religious guilt.

Nevertheless, it wasn't until the 20th century that gluttony obtained a new name and a new look courtesy of the growing influence of psychology. "Overeating" was the watchword, and that new word presented “. . . an affront to the prevailing standards of beauty and health rather than an offense against God . . . ” Psychological tomes and self-help books successfully completed the transformation of this former sin into a human shortcoming, a cultural embarrassment and even an economic healthcare issue.

Modern Americans are particularly obsessed with food. The Food Network offers it 24/7. Drinks come not in small, medium or large sizes any more, but in “grande” or “big gulps.” Buffets with unlimited trips, salad bars that pack large amounts of fat into their dressings and accompaniments and handheld food all speak to our obsession with eating all the time. Counterbalancing these are the insistent admonitions of diet books and cookbooks, Weight Watchers and Overeaters Anonymous programs, and the endless river of self-help books that fund our food obsession. Who needs “God” for guilt when one has all this?   

Prose takes pains to point out that modern society’s perception of overweight or obese people stems from the belief that such people are themselves at fault, that they lack moral, emotional and physical strength to conduct themselves in a way that is respectful of others’ rights. Yet it is only those who show the effects who suffer the condemnation:  “. . .  it becomes obvious that though gluttony appears to have become the least harmful of sins, it may well be the most widespread. Precisely because of our inordinate interests, our preoccupation with sampling the trendiest dishes at the costliest new restaurants, and our apparently paradoxical, obsessive horror of obesity, we have become a culture of gluttons.”

The balance between pleasure in food and eating and the pain of gluttony (whether that pain derives from religious guilt or societal condemnation) is  the ubiquitous contradiction that fascinates Prose and that makes this book well worth reading. It is a journey not only through history, but through a writer’s mind given the freedom to explore at will.


Almost since her childhood days of Mother Goose, Lauren has been giving her opinion on books to anyone who will listen. That “talent” eventually took her out of magazine writing and into book reviewing in 2000 for an online review site where she cut her teeth (as well as a few authors). Stints as book editor for a newspaper and contributing editor to Booklist and Bookmarks magazines has reinforced her belief that she has interesting things to say about books. Lauren shares her home with several significant others including three cats, 700 bookmarks and nearly 1,000 books that, whether previously read or not, constitute her to-be-read stack. She can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it
 
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