“Does that mean that fiction is truer than … truth?” Aenea shook her head. “No, I think he meant … well, in the same poem he has a hymn to Pan— “Dread opener of the mysterious doors Leading to universal knowledge.” Aenea blew on her cup of hot tea to cool it. “To Father, Pan became a sort of symbol of imagination … especially romantic imagination.” She sipped her tea. “Did you know, Raul, that Pan was the allegorical precursor to Christ?”
