A Few Thoughts: Books and Other Stuff

I have a lot of books, or as Dear Diane might tell you, “He has far too many books.” Indeed, had I not bought books, but instead taken the money I have spent on them and instead invested it in almost anything else — except maybe Sam Bankman-Fried’s FTX — I’d be far more comfortable today, but not nearly as happy. Maybe I’ll make the switch to Kindle, a rarely used app stored on all my devices. It would certainly be much less expensive. But I suspect it would take me a long time to adjust psychologically from real, bound books to digitized imitations. It just ain’t the same. And there’s something reassuring and comforting about going to the right bookcase, finding the right book, then flipping through the pages to locate the right words. I often forget the exact titles of books, but for some reason recognize the “look” of their bindings or dust jackets.

Anyway, as long as I’m writing about books, here’s a quick look at two books in my library: one recent addition and another that's been there a while.

Bibi: My Story, by Benjamin Netanyahu (2022) This book, a gift from one of my sons, is a “must-read.” Regardless of your attitude toward the once and present Prime Minister of Israel, you will find this autobiography more than interesting. Like his brother, Yoni, who was killed while commanding the remarkably successful rescue mission at Entebbe, Netanyahu also served in combat as a special forces officer. But it is his subsequent life in Israeli politics that makes up the bulk of this fascinating and well-written autobiography. If you want to come to a better understanding of Israel, still our closest ally in the Near East, and its current leader, this book is a must.

The Evolution of Civilizations, by Carroll Quigley (1961). In September 1962 I began my freshman year at Georgetown University’s School of Foreign Service. I spent only that one year at Georgetown because I was fortunate enough to receive a congressional appointment to the U. S. Naval Academy where I would spend the next four years. But like every freshman at the School of Foreign Service, I took the required course on the development of civilizations taught by Carroll Quigley. To say that I enjoyed the course would be a gross understatement. Quigley taught in a large lecture hall and before the first class had ended, we were all captivated. After all, we were 18-year-old freshmen and this legendary professor simply wowed us with his knowledge and delivery. It was a form of education we had never experienced, and he left us spellbound. We listened and scribbled in our notebooks, hoping to capture the important points. We were several classes into the course before someone dared ask a question. As I recall it was an intelligent, relevant question, asked by a young Nigerian woman, and answered quickly and satisfactorily by Quigley. I was happy to receive a C for my first semester grade, not a particularly impressive grade, but better than the majority of students who were lucky to get a D. My class notes disappeared long ago, but after 61 years I still have the text, Quigley’s book, The Evolution of Civilizations. I enjoyed reading it once again a few years ago, and recommend it to anyone who desires a better understanding of how we as a society, as a part of what’s left of Western Civilization, came to be. The above link is to a 2nd edition, published posthumously in 1979.

A brief afterthought. I recently came across an article — “Is Georgetown University Committing Suicide?” — written by Quigley in 1967 and published in the university’s newspaper, The Hoya. It’s an interesting article, written over 50 years ago by someone who would have been considered a liberal, back when liberals really were liberal.

OK, Here's What I'm Reading

In recent weeks I've had several of my Bible Study participants ask me what I'm currently reading. I'm not sure why they'd want to know; after all, my reading habits are likely no more interesting than anyone else's. Anyway, my tastes in books can also be a bit off-putting to some folks. For example, I rarely read modern novels, and by "modern" I mean anything written during the past 30 or 40 years. There are exceptions; indeed, one of the books I'm currently reading would certainly be labeled a modern novel, but I was introduced to other works by the same author and enjoyed them. The reason I avoid most modern fiction? There's far too much of it and I have so little time to sort out the bad from the not-so-bad. There's really very little good. I hate to waste precious time (and inflationary cash) on something not worth reading, so it's safer to wait several decades and ask a few simple questions:

• Is it still in print? This isn't always a good benchmark, but it does limit the field. Multiple printings tell us little about the critics, but a lot about the general public; and I trust the latter more than the former. The public isn't always right, but it's more right than most critics.
• The above leads to another set of criteria: Who likes it and who doesn't? Is it on the "must read" list of someone I know and trust? Or is it on the "hated list" of someone whose opinions I regularly dismiss as foolish? A "yes" answer to both questions is a definite plus.
• Is it a seminal work, one of those truly influential books that has changed the world? Its impact might have been horribly negative, like Mein Kampf or Das Kapital, or very positive, like Augustine's Confessions or Russell Kirk's The Conservative Mind. I read them all, since ignoring them leaves one ill-equipped to cope with their consequences.
• Finally, is it a book I will simply enjoy? For example, Flannery O'Connor's letters, published posthumously as The Habit of Being is one of those books to which I often return. O'Connor was always interesting and usually quite funny. I also enjoy the works of Jane Austen, Gene Wolfe, Alice Thomas Ellis, G. K. Chesterton, V. S. Naipaul, P. G. Wodehouse, Evelyn Waugh, Mark Helprin, Maurice Baring, and so many others.

At any given time, I'm usually reading more than one book, all stacked neatly on the table next to my comfortable, squishy easy chair in our living room. Diane thinks this is weird, but it works for me. I simply choose the book that seems to suit my current mood, something that changes often enough. If a book is interesting and well-written, I have no trouble picking up where I left off when I last put it down. And so, here are a few of the books I've recently read or am reading now. 

Winter's Tale, by Mark Helprin (1983). Helprin is a wonderful writer, and I often find myself checking to see what he's published lately. I've read many of his works, novels and short stories -- I especially liked A Soldier of the Great War -- but somehow missed this novel, one of his earlier works. A remarkable love story, touched with fantasy, but for me utterly believable. 

The Seven Storey Mountain, by Thomas Merton (1948). I first read this book when I was a freshman at Georgetown, but that was 60 years ago. As I recall I found it too personal and too spiritual. But what did I expect? After all, it's an autobiography of a man who becomes a Trappist monk. Personal and spiritual? Well, yeah! Right now, I'm smack dab in the middle of it and truly enjoying it. It takes me back to the Church and the world I experienced in my youth. And reading Merton's life, I encounter pieces of my own and my struggles to make my way past many of the same obstacles that confronted the author. Interesting that I didn't recognize any of this during my first reading when I was 18. As college freshmen we were sure we were oh so smart, when in truth we were amazingly stupid.

The Stripping of the Altars 1400-1580, by Eamon Duffy (1992). This absolutely fascinating (and very long) book is another through which I'm now making my way. It's one of those books that has changed how many people, both Catholics and Protestants, understand the role the Catholic Church played in the lives of the English people before and during the early years of Reformation. Duffy focuses on a particular period (1400-1580) and demonstrates that late medieval Catholicism remained the religion of the people throughout. He also writes convincingly of the means by which this truth has been grossly distorted. 

Lost in the Cosmos: The Last Self-Help Book, by Walker Percy (1983). With this book, Percy, a medical doctor and successful novelist, offered us a work of non-fiction designed to help you and me discover, as he phrased it, "who you are not and even (an outside chance) who you are." Percy looks intently, and with his own brand of humor, at man and the universe in which God has placed him and tries to make sense of it all by providing us with a cosmic survival guide. I just finished reading the book, enjoyed it immensely, but in truth preferred Percy's novels, especially The Moviegoer and The Second Coming.

The Madness of Crowds: Gender, Race and Identity by Douglas Murray (2019). If you're sick and tired of all the wokeness that is continuously streamed into your life and that of your family, then this is the book for you. Douglas Murray, a British political commentator and an editor at The Spectator, takes a hard look at the plague of identity politics, its Marxist roots, and its manifestations regarding race, sexuality, and gender. He also examines how technology and the online culture it has spawned has negatively altered human relationships. It's a wonderfully researched and well-written book. You might consider giving copies to grown children and grandchildren, assuming they can still read and have the attention span necessary to make their way through almost 300 pages.

Here are two others on the subject of Sacred Scripture, books that tell us much about modern Scriptural scholarship.

The Case for Jesus (2016), by Brant Petre. This little book should be read by all Christians who have become confused thanks to the work and commentary of so many of today's New Testament scholars. Brant Petre, a Catholic Scriptural scholar, lays bare the false assumptions and conclusions of the form critics who unfortunately have led so many Christians astray and been the cause much lost faith. Focusing on the Gospels, Petre digs deeply into the original manuscripts, as well as the works of Early Church Fathers, proving, as the Church has always taught, that the Gospels were actually written by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John and relate the truth about the life and public ministry of our Lord, Jesus Christ. Although written for the layperson, Petre provides detailed references and documentation for anyone who desires to pursue the subject in greater depth.

The Decline and Fall of Sacred Scripture (2021), by Scott Hahn & Benjamin Wiker. Here we have another wonderful book focusing on the truth of Sacred Scripture and the attempts by many scholars to turn the Bible into just another book of tall tales. The authors provide an overview of the degradation of Scriptural scholarship over the centuries, and its negative effects on the faith of millions of Christians. From Marsilius and Ockham in the late medieval period, through the Reformation, and into our modern times, we are shown how Sacred Scripture has been radically attacked by generations of scholars who, in the words of one reviewer, left "an incoherent mess" in their wake. 

Doors in the Walls of the World, by Peter Kreeft (2018). I've been reading Peter Kreeft for decades and he never disappoints. This little book is no exception. Its subtitle, Signs of Transcendence in the Human Story, is a perfect description of its content. Although barely 125 pages, it took me several evenings to make my way through it. Almost every page left me with something to think about more deeply and I found myself questioning my own habits of thought. Here's just one example, from p. 43: 

"Divine design is either nothing or everything; and if it is everything, then it extends even to randomness and apparent meaninglessness, to the puzzling presence of evil and the absence of scientific proofs. The hypothesis of faith may not be provable, but it is believable. The doors in the walls of the world may be only loose threads, but they are there."

Because I've long accepted God's omniscience and omnipotence, I had never believed in mere coincidence. Here Kreeft extends this to include a rational disbelief in both randomness and meaninglessness. It's a wonderful book.

And that's enough. Blessings and God's peace...

Springtime Reading

Every so often, someone asks me: "What are you reading lately?" Most often the question comes from a friend or acquaintance who's visited our home and has taken a peek into my so-called den. Often enough this messy room shocks visitors who for some reason expect me to be more organized. I could include a photo but would prefer to avoid the embarrassment. I'd rather just drop a few hints and leave the rest to your imagination. 

Most of the walls of this room are hidden behind six tall overflowing bookcases. More books rise up from the floor in semi-neat stacks. The storage of books is a process of continual evolution and even a cursory look suggests no real system of organization. The result? Searching for a particular book usually turns into an adventure. I'm not proud of this, but organization takes time. Perhaps every couple of years, the chaos reaches a critical level and I devote most of a day to rearranging books by subject matter, separating others I intend to give away, and moving some to the many bookcases in other rooms of our home. This task, driven by necessity, is far from enjoyable. But it must be done because I lack the discipline to return books to their proper place and tend to stash new books wherever they fit. Yes, indeed, my lack of discipline and organization leads only to chaos.

But even chaos can bring its rewards. Yesterday, while looking for a particular book, I found another I had not yet read and had forgotten. Buried at the bottom of one of those stacks on the floor, it called to me, demanding to be read. Since I tend to have three or four books going at the same time -- something that Dear Diane finds strange -- I simply added it to my current reading.

When do I read? Whenever I have the time. Multiple ministries have no respect for personal schedules and make it difficult to set particular times for other activities, including reading. Fortunately, I read rather quickly, thanks to a speed-reading workshop I attended in graduate school back in the early 70s. Unless the book is a particularly dense theological or philosophical text, I can usually finish it rather quickly.

Anyway, if you are interested, here's a sampling of what I'm reading now, or intend to read, in the springtime of 2022.

Dare We Hope That All Men Be Saved? by Hans Urs von Balthasar (1986). 

Hans Urs von Balthasar (1905-1988), one of the great theologians of the 20th century, wrote this book not long before his death. Although I first read this book in the mid-90s, its publication had already generated so much controversy, I wanted to read it myself and see what all the furor was about. And now, as I am much closer to the end of my life, I thought perhaps it was time to read it again.

Although I was (and still am) no theologian, I found the book to be thoughtful, measured, and scripturally sound. I could never understand why von Balthasar and his book became the target of so many attacks. God's plan for the salvation of humanity, particularly for the salvation of each individual, remains a mystery. Can we not hope for the salvation of all?

Von Balthasar examines sacred Scripture and brings to light many of the passages that encourage Christians to hope that God will bring all to salvation. He neither ignores nor denies the more "threatening" passages that obviously argue against this. In his follow-up "Discourse on Hell" (included in the book and written as a response to his critics), he simply says:

"I claim nothing more than this: that these statements give us a right to have hope for all men, which simultaneously implies that I see no need to take the step from the threats to the positing of a hell occupied by our brothers and sisters, through which our hopes would come to naught."

He goes on to write: 

"I do not wish to contradict anyone who, as a Christian, cannot be happy without denying the universality of hope to us so that he can be certain of his full hell: that was, after all, the view of a large number of important theologians, especially among the followers of Augustine. But, in return, I would like to request that one be permitted to hope that God's redemptive work for his creation might succeed. Certainty cannot be attained, but hope can be justified."

Von Balthasar then adds the following, suggesting the Church, in its wisdom, has long understood this:

"That is probably the reason why the Church, which has sanctified so many men, has never said anything about the damnation of any individual. Not even about that of Judas, who became in a way the representative example for something of which all sinners are also guilty."

I've just completed (I think) my third reading of this book and strongly recommend it, especially if you find the idea of God bringing all to salvation highly improbable or even impossible. As for me, I've always been a sucker for hope, the theological virtue that promises me so much more than I deserve.

Eliot and His Age, by Russell Kirk (1971). 

Russell Kirk (1918-1994) was perhaps the most eloquent, influential, and solidly conservative man of letters of the 20th century. I attribute the genesis of my own political beliefs to his book The Conservative Mind which i first read only months after its publication in 1960. At the time I was a high school junior who was searching for some solid foundational ground to support the beliefs I instinctively held. 

Kirk (photo left) was a prolific writer, and many of his books have pride of place in my personal library. I had known of his fondness for T. S. Eliot, with whom he shared a personal friendship, but I had never read this remarkable work. I'm now about halfway into it an already consider it essential reading for anyone truly interested in understanding the great poet's life and works, as well as the ideas that stimulated his timeless writings.

If you're a fan of Eliot (photo left), you'll know that his essays and other prose works are almost as important as his poetry. Indeed, his ideas are perhaps even more meaningful to our society today than when they were first written. Kirk, writing of Eliot's influence in the early 1920s, stated:

"Of missions to the masses, the twentieth century knew too many; Eliot's mission was to the educated classes. The drift toward Marxism, or toward some other totalist ideology, was apparent already among literary people: Eliot would offer them an alternative -- in philosophy and religion, in humane letters, in politics." [P. 81]

And while you're at it, pick up a copy of Eliot's The Idea of a Christian Society, a wonderful essay containing such profound gems as this:

"...in a society which has ceased to be Christian...I would remark that there are two points of view...The first is that a society has ceased to be Christian when religious practices have been abandoned, when behavior ceases to be regulated by reference to Christian principle, and when in effect prosperity in this world for the individual or for the group has become the sole conscious aim. The other point of view, which is less readily apprehended, is that a society has not ceased to be Christian until it has become positively something else...I believe that the choice before us is between the formation of a new Christian culture and the acceptance of a pagan one." [P. 10]

By the way, my copy is a first US edition (1940) for which I paid all of $2.00 in a used bookshop some years ago. 

Of yes, and don't neglect the great poet's poetry...perhaps more on this in some future post.

I'm running out of time (and steam) and still have two homilies to write for Mass and a Baptism on Saturday. Here's one more suggestion, a bit of a change of pace since it's a work of fiction.

There Are Doors, by Gene Wolfe (1988). 

Gene Wolfe (1931-2019) might well have been one of the best modern American writers of fiction. Sadly, his work tends to be overlooked because it is usually classed as science fiction. I suppose it is, but it's really so much more. Just the fact that I rarely read the genre -- except for books written by Wolfe -- might convince you to give him a try.

Every so often I find one of his books in a used bookstore or turn to Amazon and search for one I haven't read. This book is one of those Amazon purchases. A used copy, it arrived on our doorstep a couple of days ago and I just started to read it yesterday evening. It took only about 30 seconds to grab my attention, although after about 50 pages I realized it was too late to continue reading since I had to get up at 5:30 this morning. I'll probably finish it tonight.

Wolfe once wrote that "A great story...is one that can be read with pleasure by a cultivated reader and reread with increasing pleasure." Believe me, this describes Wolfe's stories perfectly.

If you've never read Wolfe, I would suggest turning first to his novel, A Soldier of the Mist (1987). (The link takes you to a double novel that includes this book and its sequel.) The novel tells a remarkable story set in 479 B.C., a time when "the gods walked the earth with men." The hero, a Greek mercenary soldier named Latro, suffered a head would in battle and became separated from his fellow soldiers. As a result of his wound, he experienced severe memory loss that included his ability to remember from one day to the next. He is forced, therefore, to live in a constant present. His only aid is a daily written record which he reads each morning to give his life some continuity. But his wound has also given Latro a gift of sorts: his sense can penetrate into the supernatural world that surrounds him. He can see and communicate with a wide variety of beings, from gods and goddesses to ghosts and demons.

Another of Wolfe's books that received a lot of critical attention is among my favorites: Pirate Freedom (2007). I just love the plot. It's a time-travel story of a Catholic priest, Father Christopher, who finds himself transported back in time to the age of piracy in the Caribbean. There he becomes Captain Chris, a rather successful pirate. An absolutely fascinating story -- I won't reveal the ending -- that examines the relationship among love, faith, and morality.

Wolfe was a Catholic whose deep faith permeated his works, often in the most subtle ways that no doubt had a significant influence on many of his readers.

___________________

In addition to the books mentioned here I'm currently reading a few others. Perhaps I'll take the time to mention them in the near future.

God's peace and happy reading.

Summer Reading

Thanks to the malleable, easily manipulated science of the “experts,” we’ve all spent more than a year imprisoned in our homes by COVID. Okay, I exaggerate. If we donned an approved mask and kept our distance from friends and strangers, we were free to make brief trips to the supermarket in search of toilet paper. But for months churches were off limits, as were local eateries, since such places were seen as COVID petri dishes. Participating in such activities was not only perceived as dangerous, it was also illegal. The result? All of us, especially those of us who are retired, had far too much empty time on our hands.

How did you use all that free time? Like many folks, did you spend countless hours playing mind-numbing online games? Maybe instead you decided to subscribe to Netflix so you could watch all their politically correct series and movies. Or like some people I know, did you search YouTube for nutty animal videos and send them to your friends? Of course, you might actually have done some reading. You don’t have to answer, and I won’t confess my sins of excess leisure. But whether or not your reading list has changed, I thought it might be fun to recommend a few books to keep you busy during these long summer days.

I’ll preface my list by saying that I never pay a lot of attention to reading lists generated by others, even by those I respect. But that’s just because I have so many unread books piled up in my den that adding others would just add to my guilt. So…if, like me, you already have a long list of unread books, stop reading this post right now and jump over to YouTube. That said, here’s my list…

The Possessed (or Devils) by Fyodor Dostoevsky (1821-1881). I first read this book almost 60 years ago when I was a freshman at Georgetown’s School of Foreign Service. I spent only one year at Georgetown — for which I thank God daily — before receiving an appointment to the U.S. Naval Academy. Like my change in educational institutions, reading this book had a major influence on how I viewed the world, particularly the world of politics and government. Dostoevsky was, of course, one of Russia’s great novelists and most literate folks have read either Crime and Punishment or The Brothers Karamazov, his two most famous and widely read books. The Possessed, although not as well known, might actually be the most relevant to our times. Like Russia in the 1870s, radical, revolutionary ideas are gaining traction today, particularly among our poorly educated youth and young adults. I decided to reread this book some weeks ago and, based on recent events in our own country, found it even more relevant.

Let me offer a rather long quote from the book — a scene in which one radical speaks with another, describing those whom they recruit, the folks Lenin named the “useful idiots” who could be called on to do the busy and nasty work of the revolution:

“It will amuse you: the first thing which has a tremendous effect is giving them titles. Nothing has more influence than a title. I invent ranks and duties on purpose; I have secretaries, secret spies, treasurers, presidents, registrars, their assistants — they like it awfully, it's taken capitally. Then, the next force is sentimentalism, of course. You know, amongst us socialism spreads principally through sentimentalism. But the trouble is these lieutenants who bite; sometimes you put your foot in it. Then come the out-and-out rogues; well, they are a good sort, if you like, and sometimes very useful; but they waste a lot of one's time, they want incessant looking after. And the most important force of all — the cement that holds everything together — is their being ashamed of having an opinion of their own. That is a force! And whose work is it, whose precious achievement is it, that not one idea of their own is left in their heads! They think originality a disgrace…All that business of titles and sentimentalism is a very good cement, but there is something better; persuade four members of the circle to do for a fifth on the pretense that he is a traitor [that is, to kill him], and you'll tie them all together with the blood they've shed as though it were a knot. They'll be your slaves, they won't dare to rebel or call you to account…And another thing….the essence of our creed is the negation of honor, and that by the open advocacy of a right to be dishonorable a Russian can be won over more easily than by anything…The right to dishonor — why, they'd all flock to us for that, not one would stay behind!”

These words, written 150 years ago, 50 years before the Russian Revolution of 1917, still apply. Socialism, although it always fails when put into practice, sounds so good to those who ignore its history. The only way, then, to recruit the hard-core believer is through pure sentimentalism. Later, once the socialist state is created, every aspect of life must be controlled or a counter-revolution will follow. The “leaders” of Antifa and Black Lives Matter, not to mention the dozens of overt terrorist organizations throughout the world, apply these same rules of recruitment as they fill their ranks with the mindless who do their evil bidding. Yes, indeed, give them a title to make them feel better about themselves, while at the same time crushing independent thought by demanding complete acceptance of the “party line.” Those who resist by thinking and expressing unacceptable ideas are shamed or even cancelled, sometimes in the most permanent way. Demanding the application of violence against those who stray “ties them all together with the blood they’ve shed.” Honor, morality, the distinction between good and evil all disappear.

The Possessed is well worth reading.

The Wise Man from the West, by Vincent Cronin (1924-2011). In the late 17th century, a second-generation Jesuit, Fr. Matteo Ricci, inspired by Francis Xavier, left the West and went to China as a missionary, where he spent the final 28 years of his life. Ricci loved the Chinese and their ancient civilization and developed the means to introduce Christianity in ways to which the Chinese would respond. He became a great scholar who could communicate with both Chinese scholars and the common people. Convinced that Christianity could coexist with Chinese culture and customs, his attempts to merge the two failed in the short term. As the late, great Fr. James V. Schall, S. J. wrote in the book’s Forward:

“…it was not the Chinese who rejected this possibility but the West in the judgment at the time of the Pope (Clement XI, 1704) himself. Though later popes, as Cronin indicated, have come to regret this choice, the damage was done.”

This is a wonderful book, a fitting companion to another book about this remarkable Jesuit, which I read many years ago. If you read Cronin’s book and want to know more about Ricci and his genius, pick up a copy of The Memory Palace of Matteo Ricci, by Jonathan D. Spence (b. 1936).

The Unbroken Thread, by Sohrab Amhari (b. 1985). What a wonderful book! It can best be described by its subtitle: “Discovering the Wisdom of Tradition in an Age of Chaos.” Amhari is an immigrant, born and brought up in Iran, who came to this country, immersed himself in Western materialism, but then experienced a dramatic change in his life and became a Roman Catholic. His book is a book of questions that need to be answered by any American who desires to live the kind of life that God desires of us. To provide meaningful answers, the author calls on many of the great minds of Western Civilization. The book is a true page-turner and one you might want to share with children and grandchildren.

The Soul of the World, by Roger Scruton (1944-2020). Although Roger Scruton, to me one of the greatest of modern philosophers, died last year, he left us with many wonderful books. This is perhaps my favorite. It’s not easy reading for those not used to making their way through the language of the philosophers, but for those who keep their dictionary handy, it reaps great rewards. Scruton takes on the atheism of the elites and the blind scientism that attacks the sacred. In his defense of the sacred he turns to art, literature, music, and all forms of human achievement. Scruton wrote over forty books but this book sums up much of his thought and does it beautifully. Although it’s not a long book, it kept that aging mind of mine occupied for more than a few days. This is a book well worth reading. 

Selected Poems, by Elizabeth Jennings (1926-2001). Okay, for a change of pace, I thought you might enjoy some of this woman’s poetry, steeped as it is in religious values and full of the wisdom of one who suffered much in her personal life. English-born, Jennings spent almost her entire life in Oxford. Her poems, marked by a unique simplicity and lyric mastery, move readers to contemplate their own views of the central themes of human life. Love, death, faith, relationships…Jennings touched on them all, colored by her own deep Catholic faith. I first read her only a few years ago, not long after her death, but became an instant fan, believing her to be among the greatest of modern poets. As the late Peter Levi, Jesuit priest and Professor of Poetry at Oxford, wrote of Jennings before her death, “She is one of the few living poets we could not do without.”

Jennings, who had suffered from mental illness, wrote the poem I've included below, apparently while recovering. It's certainly not the most cheerful of her many poems, but it moved me deeply as I considered my own ministry as a hospital chaplain. It begins with the recognition of a painting hanging on the wall, one by the French artist, Maurice Utrillo. I’ve included a photo of the painting below:

A Mental Hospital Sitting Room

Utrillo on the wall. A nun is climbing

Steps in Montmartre. We patients sit below.

It does not seem a time for lucid rhyming;

Too much disturbs. It does not seem a time

When anything could fertilize or grow.

It is as if a scream were opened wide,

A mouth demanding everyone listen.

Too many people cry, too many hide

And stare into themselves. I am afraid

There are no life-belts here on which to fasten.

The nun is climbing up those steps. The room

Shifts till the dust flies in between our eyes.

The only hope is visitors will come

And talk of other things than our disease…

So much is stagnant and yet nothing dies.

_________________

Well, those are a few recommendations for your summer reading. A bit heavy, perhaps, except for Jennings' poetry, but we live in rather heavy times.

God's peace...

My Unsightly Pile of Books

During a phone conversation about a week ago, one of my friends, who knows me all too well, asked, “What’s in that stack of books on the table next to your easy chair?” He likes to know the books I’m reading so he can argue with me about them and their authors. He also knows that, at any given time, I’m usually reading about a half-dozen books. This is nothing to brag about; indeed, it’s a failing, a sign of a lack of focus. 

Sometimes, especially with good fiction, I’m enjoying a book so much, I hate the thought of finishing it. And so, I put it aside for a few days and return to it when I can resist no longer. Other books demand more than my aging brain can handle and must be read and digested in small bites. These call for more and deeper thought than I can usually conjure up as I read. So I set them aside, occasionally think about what they’re trying to tell me, and then return to them when my mind seems ready to dive into them once again. And then there are the books that simply conflict with whatever my current mood might be. These include poetry, short stories, or books of a certain genre, for example, science fiction, fantasy, mysteries, and what are often called, “ghost stories.” Yes, indeed, I enjoy all them all, but only if they’re well written and I’m in the mood. These, then, are the reasons for the “unsightly pile” (Dear Diane’s words) of books on my end table. 

What books now reside in this pile, and who are their authors? I’ll start from the top and work my way down. Here goes...

The Daughter of Time, by Josephine Tey (1896-1952).

Okay, in truth, I finished this book yesterday, so it shouldn’t still be in the stack with the others. After closing its cover, I just plopped it down on top of the pile, thinking I’d find a spot for it in a bookcase today. But I enjoyed it so much I just had to tell you a little about it. Anyway, my friend asked his question a week ago, so the book should still qualify as a true member of the current pile. 

Josephine Tey (a pen name of Elizabeth MacKintosh) was one of those classic British crime writers of the first half of the twentieth century, authors like Dorothy Sayers, G.K. Chesterton, Agatha Christie, Margery Allingham, E.C. Bentley, and so many others. The Daughter of Time (1951) is among the more unusual of her Inspector Grant of Scotland Yard mystery novels, in that Grant investigates a centuries-old crime from a hospital bed in which he is recovering from severe injuries. The crime? The fifteenth-century murder of the “Princes in the Tower” that historians and many others (including William Shakespeare) long attributed to King Richard III despite a lack of any real evidence. (Spoiler Alert!) Naturally, as a lifelong fan of Richard III, I agree with the good inspector’s ultimate conclusions. The real killer probably acted on orders from King Henry VII, the first of the Tudor monarchs, but really just another murderous member of that family. 

Richard, who lost his life and his crown 535 years ago (yesterday) at the Battle of Bosworth on August 22, 1485, has had his reputation restored by a number of current historians who actually examined the evidence. Among my favorite biographies of this misunderstood and mistreated king is Richard the Third, by Paul Kendall, first published in 1955, and still in print. 

The most recent news about Richard III involves the remarkable 2012 discovery of the king's body beneath a parking lot in Leicester, the site of what was once the Franciscan Grey Friars Church. It's a remarkable story and you can read the short version here: Finding Richard III. If you want the whole story by the woman who led the team of archaeologists who found Richard, read Philippa Langley's book, The King's Grave (another book in my current pile).

As you might suspect, I'm a bit obsessed with Richard, and have been for decades. This last great Catholic king of England was systematically defamed by his Tudor successors. The Franciscans had buried Richard in their friary church shortly after his death in battle. The friary church and Richard's tomb were demolished by Henry VIII in 1536 as part of his sacrilegious dissolution of the monasteries. To me, the final insult was Richard's re-burial in 2015 in the Anglican Leicester Cathedral. The Anglicans despised and defamed this good king for centuries, but now that he's fashionable, they lay claim to him. Thankfully, Vincent Cardinal Nichols, the Catholic Archbishop of Westminster, celebrated a funeral Mass for King Richard at Holy Cross Priory in Leicester. 

Four Quartets, by T. S. Eliot (1888-1965). 

This poetry, by one of my favorites, was Eliot’s final major poetic work. Originally written in 1943, the year before I was born, Four Quartets applies equally to today’s confused world. Here for example...ponder these words from the third part, The Dry Salvages:

There is no end, but addition: the trailing

consequence of further days and hours,

While emotion takes to itself the emotionless

Years of living among the breakage

Of what was believed in as the most reliable — 

And therefore the fittest for renunciation.

I’ve read Four Quartets several times, as well as much of Eliot’s other poetry and prose. While he's sometimes unsettling and confounding, he never disappoints me.

On Islam: a Chronological Record, 2002-2018, by James V. Schall, S.J. (1928-2019). 

Father Schall, who died last year, was one of the few good things to come out of Georgetown University in recent decades. A prolific author -- all of his many books are worth reading -- and political philosopher, Schall takes a hard look at Islam during the years immediately following the 9-11 Islamist attack on New York City and the Pentagon. I found the book especially interesting because it covers those years through which we all lived, but does so by looking deeply into the very heart of Islam and its worldview. Few others, including many of the West's political, religious, and social leaders, understand Islam and its deep-rooted aims, leading to predictably ineffective responses. The book also includes a commentary on Hilaire Belloc's prescient writings on the nature of Islam, writings that, 50 years ago, had a major impact on the evolution of my own thinking on Islam.

Lord Peter, by Dorothy L. Sayers (1893-1957).

Back again to those British mystery and crime writers. Although Dorothy Sayers was also a Christian apologist and translator of Dante, she was best known for her Lord Peter Wimsey mystery stories. I've always believed if you truly like something, you might as well get it all. This book, then, is the "complete" collection of Lord Peter Wimsey stories, most written in the 1920s and 1930s. (It does not, however, include the many Lord Peter novels.) If you haven't read any of these stories, you might have watched a few of the TV adaptations produced by the BBC some years ago and aired on PBS here in the U.S. Short stories are far more easily adapted to the television medium, and the BBC actually did a fairly good job with Lord Peter. But no TV show will ever be as good as the original.

Lord Peter, though, isn't everyone's cup of tea. The English aristocrat and amateur sleuth is a bit odd, at least for American tastes, with his strange mannerisms, his monocle,  and his upper-class manners. But one grows to like him and his valet, Bunter, along with many other of the stories' recurring characters. Wimsey and Bunter served together in World War One and the latter's care for his "lordship," who suffered from what today we would call PTSD, adds more than a little touching poignancy to many of the stories. 

Unbelievable, by Michael Newton Keas (2019). This book's subtitle says it all: 7 Myths About the History and Future of Science and Religion. Published by the Intercollegiate Studies Institute (ISI), an organization that offers a wide selection of books, all worth reading. Keas, a historian of science and a senior fellow at the Center for Science and Culture has written a readable and well documented book addressing many of the most pernicious myths that have infected and distorted much of modern thought. Most of these myths (can we simply call them lies?) seem to have one goal: the undermine Christianity in general, and specifically Catholicism. This is one of those books that you should send to every high school and college student you know.

How to Read Buildings, by Carol Davidson Cragoe (2012). Now, this is a book that falls well outside my usual interests, and represents a field of study about which I know far too little: architecture. Although I've traveled extensively during these almost 76 years, and seen a lot of buildings from many historical periods, I haven't always been able to identify one architectural style from another. Yes, I can tell the difference between Gothic and neo-classical, but when does Romanesque end and Gothic begin? What unique features really separate the two? How did one evolve from the other? And did you know that there are many different kinds of buttresses in those Gothic cathedrals? Can you identify the various kinds of columns or arches or vaults? Assuming you, too, are plagued by an inability to answer these questions, and would like to be able to answer them, this is the book for you. Given its subtitle -- A Crash Course in Architectural Styles -- this was one of those bookstore impulse purchases I couldn't resist because it offered a quick, down and dirty overview of building architecture as it has developed over the centuries. It's enabled me to sound much more broadly educated than I really am. It's also well illustrated and published in a very handy size that I can take with me on my travels -- a wonderful little book.
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That's the extent of the current "unsightly pile" of books. It will no doubt undergo major changes in the days to come.

Re-reading Good Books

Lately I've been re-reading books I first read years ago. I often decide to read a book again because I enjoyed it so much the first time and simply want to experience it afresh. This is more often the case with fiction. And, yes, in a few instances, because of my aging memory, I'm unable to describe specifically why a book once pleased me. In other words, I've forgotten the details, but I know I enjoyed it and hope to do so once again. I am rarely disappointed. But in truth, every good book deserves a re-reading. I really believe this. In fact, there are books on my shelves that I've read three or four times, and some even more. We read good poetry again and again, so why not good prose? 

Of course as Christians we spend many hours re-reading Sacred Scripture; or at least we should. How did St. Paul put it?

"All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for refutation, for correction, and for training in righteousness" [2 Tim 3:15].

Now, it seems to me, to reap such a harvest from the Bible demands a lifetime of reading and re-reading. Of course, some might disagree. For example, not long ago, in a casual conversation with a parishioner, I happened to mention our parish Bible Study and suggested he might enjoy taking part. He laughed, shook his head, and replied, "No need. I read the entire Bible, from beginning to end, many years ago. No reason to do that again." This comment began a brief, interesting, and very civil argument, an argument which I apparently lost since he has yet to attend our Bible Study.

Anyway, this all came to mind just minutes ago when I glanced at the stack of books piled high on the end table beside my easy chair. I'm always reading several books and those in this stack are the current crop. Surprisingly -- and it surprised even me -- of the seven books I'm now reading, four are re-reads. And so, today I thought I'd share these titles with you and offer my reasons for giving these books more than a single reading.

The first is The Building of Christendom, Volume 2 of a sweeping, six-volume History of Christendom written by Warren H. Carroll (1932-2011). Dr. Carroll, who founded Christendom College (Front Royal, Virginia) in 1977, wrote what I believe is the most extensive and the best modern history of the Church. It rivals the earlier, equally monumental, multi-volume History of the Church of Christ written by the French historian, Henri Daniel-Rops, between 1948 and 1965. 

Dr. Warren Carroll

I purchased and read each volume of Dr. Carroll's history as it was published (1985 to 2013). The final volume was completed by Anne Carroll after her husband's death in 2011 and published several years later. Each volume is not only thorough in its coverage, but also beautifully written -- real page-turners, which is remarkable for a six-volume history of over 3,000 pages. 

I especially recommend the volume I'm currently re-reading, Volume 2, which spans the years 324 to 1100. It reminds the modern reader that the Church has suffered far greater problems than those it currently faces. And through it all the Church survived these problems not because of men and their feeble attempts to solve them, but because of Jesus' promise to be with "you always, until the end of the age" [Mt 28:20]. 

The second book in my end-table stack is The Sacred and the Profane: The Nature of Religion, written by Dr. Mircea Eliade (1907-1986), former University of Chicago professor and chair of the university's Department of the History of Religions. If you happen to have read Rudolf Otto's classic examination of the basis of humanity's religious beliefs, The Idea of the Holy, you will also enjoy Eliade's book. 

Dr. Mircea Eliade

I decided to reread the book because we have been studying the Torah (or Pentateuch) in our parish Bible Study. The Mosaic descriptions of early Jewish and pagan religious belief and practice found in these first five books of Sacred Scripture led me back to The Sacred and Profane, where Eliade delves deeply into humanity's ancient memory of the sacred and its impact on today's largely profane world. It's really a marvelous book.

The third book in my stack, Richard the Third, written by Paul Murray Kendall (1911-1973), was first published in 1955. For centuries, Richard, the last of the Plantagenet kings, has been portrayed as a miserable, murderous fiend. Even William Shakespeare allowed himself to be tutored by the Tudors and depict Richard in a most unfavorable light. 

Dr. Paul Murray Kendall

Dr. Kendall, however, invites you to forget all the distorted history written about the defeated by the victors and just examine the facts. Extremely well-written, this is among my favorite biographies and certainly deserves a re-read, especially since it's been a good 25 years since I last turned its pages.

Another good reason to read the book once again is the recent (2012) discovery of Richard's remains near what was once the Greyfriars friary in Leicester, England. Richard, who was killed in the Battle of Bosworth, was apparently taken to the friary and quickly buried. Thanks to that truly miserable Tudor king, Henry VIII, the friary was demolished, along with all the other monasteries in the 1530s. After archaeologists located the site of King Richard III's grave (under a Leicester car park), scientists confirmed the identity of his remains via DNA and other evidence. 

The discovery led to a series of predictable controversies. Richard was very much a Catholic king, and the current monarchy is very Anglican, or at least purports to be. Where, then, should King Richard be interred? Suddenly everyone seemed to want the dead king's bones. What about a royal burial? He was, after all, a King of England. Queen Elizabeth II, perhaps thinking of her predecessor, that other Elizabeth, quickly quashed the idea. 

In my opinion -- although I wasn't consulted -- Richard should have been interred in a Catholic church after a suitable Catholic funeral Mass. A Mass was actually celebrated by Cardinal Nichols, Archbishop of Westminster, at Holy Cross Priory in Leicester. But ultimately, in typically English fashion, it was decided to have an ecumenical service in Leicester Cathedral (Anglican) where Richard was entombed on March 26, 2015. Of course, all of this occurred long after the author of this biography had gone to his eternal reward. I wonder what Kendall, a professor of English at Ohio University, would have thought of all the hubbub surrounding the discovery of Richard more than 500 years after his untimely and tragic death.

The fourth book in the stack is The Battleground by Hilaire Belloc, the great English Catholic writer of the last century. My book shelves hold more than 30 of Belloc's books, but this just might be my favorite. It tells the story of the Holy Land and the religions that have battled for supremacy in this rather tiny but obviously precious chunk of earth. As an archaeologist friend once remarked to me, "They don't call it the Holy Land for nothing." Yes indeed.

Hilaire Belloc

Again, it was our examination of the Pentateuch in our parish Bible Study that reminded me of this work by Belloc and led me to turn to it once again. Although published in 1936, the book's message is perhaps more applicable today than it was when Belloc first wrote these words:

"That same force which destroyed the Crusades is present in Syria today, and it is as active as ever. It is disarmed, or partly disarmed, on the material side; but spiritually it is sufficiently armed. Whether Islam throughout the eastern world, from the Atlantic to the Ganges, will recover material equality with us of the West we cannot tell; but there is no rational basis for denying the possibility of that resurrection."

And because of the West's unwillingness to recognize that the current conflict is, at its very roots, a religious conflict, I expect that resurrection to continue. Perhaps I'll actually address my understanding of the unstable relationship that has always existed between Islam and the two faiths that arose out of the Holy Land: Christianity and Judaism. Let me just say, my beliefs are certainly not politically correct.

God's peace...

Saving Your College Kid

I wouldn't even try to guess how many books have been written since the first Sumerian or Egyptian wordsmith decided to apply a little charcoal-based ink to a handy sheet of papyrus. How many would you think? A hundred million, a billion, even more? I think we can agree that it's a big number. The vast majority of these tomes probably aren't worth reading, and since we've been blessed with a limited lifespan, it would be a shame to spend much, if any, of that precious time reading unworthy books.

This got me thinking about today's college students, young people at the mercy of their professors when it comes to the books they're assigned to read. And sadly, too much of that assigned reading likely falls into the unworthy category. The young, with a few rare exceptions, lack experience, a key ingredient in the process of discernment. Absent the valuable experience of life, they too often fall prey to the seemingly attractive excesses of the ideologue. And believe me, the ideologues took control of most American colleges and universities decades ago. 

Ideology, a child of the Enlightenment, came into its own a few hundred years ago. As anyone who knows me might expect, I agree with Russell Kirk who considered ideology the antithesis of conservative thought. For Kirk the conservative "thinks of political policies as intended to preserve order, justice and freedom. The ideologue, on the contrary, thinks of politics as a revolutionary instrument for transforming society and even transforming human nature. In his march toward Utopia, the ideologue is merciless." Kirk goes on to describe ideology as "a political formula that promises mankind an earthly paradise; but in cruel fact what ideology has created is a series of terrestrial hells." [See Kirk's The Errors of Ideology.]

These hells were brought to life (and death) in the 20th century in Stalin's Soviet Union, Hitler's Germany, Pol Pot's Cambodia, and the Kim dynasty's North Korea, not to mention China, Vietnam, Cuba and Venezuela, among others. Ideology, then, intends to replace religion by providing "salvation" here on earth and hopes to accomplish this by any means necessary, including violent revolution. One can, I believe, make a good case for claiming that Islam in its purest, most fundamental form of the sort that motivates ISIS, al-Qaeda, Boko Haram, al-Shabaab, and their terrorist allies is really more ideology than religion. But that's a topic for another time.

Because the ideologues of the left have taken near complete control of most American institutions of higher education, their students receive an indoctrination rather than an education. Colleges and universities, especially the elite liberal arts colleges and the state universities, more closely resemble the re-education camps of Communist China and Vietnam than the schools their founders intended them to be. Indeed, today's student activists are reminiscent of the vicious Red Guard of Mao's so-called cultural revolution of the late 1960s. So consumed by their leftist ideology, today's student and faculty activists cannot abide the presence of anyone who might disagree, and they are willing to use violence to keep their little world ideologically pure.

(An aside in the form of a word of advice to today's confused and disheveled campus radical: The campus has little resemblance to the rest of America, so you might want to reconsider any plans to lead violent revolution in the United States. After all, very few of those tens of millions of firearms owned by Americans are owned by folks on the political left. Just a thought...)

As we might expect, most college administrators tend to share at least some of the radical beliefs of their students and, predictably, will cave in the face of violent protest and agree to even the most outlandish demands. For the "normal" student -- i.e., the student who hopes to receive an education -- the situation has become almost intolerable. In many of our colleges academic freedom, the sharing of ideas, and open debate on controversial topics have become things of the past. Too many professors punish students who do not worship the accepted wisdom of the moment. The more courageous students fight back in what is usually a losing battle, while the majority simply keep quiet or parrot the party line.

Way back in 1962 I spent a year at Georgetown University's School of Foreign Service prior to receiving a congressional appointment to the U. S. Naval Academy at Annapolis from which I graduated in 1967. Sadly Georgetown is now plagued by extreme political correctness and actively discourages any straying from the ruling ideology. And even at the Naval Academy there are signs of a growing PC culture. This truly saddens me.

Fortunately some institutions still consider open debate and sensible argument to be key elements of the educational process, but their numbers are few. Even once strongly Catholic institutions like Notre Dame, Providence College, Boston College and many others are now ruled by political correctness to the extent that faculty and students who actively defend the Faith often find themselves under fire by the school's influential, and more vocal, radical elements.

Providence College's recent scandalous treatment of Professor Anthony Esolen is a sad example of this. (You can read about this here.) I don't know Tony well -- we first met when I worked at Providence College for a few years back in the 1990s during the time of my diaconal formation -- but I have followed his career, read his books, and know him to be a brilliant scholar and strong apologist for the Catholic Faith. Tony recently resolved his personal situation by accepting a teaching position at Thomas More College of Liberal Arts in Merrimack, NH. How fortunate for Thomas More College and how very unfortunate for the students at Dominican-run Providence College.

As you might expect Thomas More College  is among those institutions that continue to believe in true academic freedom in the pursuit of truth. There are others: Thomas Aquinas College in Santa Paula, CA (our elder daughter is a 1993 graduate, and the college will open a second campus in Massachusetts in 2018); Christendom College in Front Royal, VA; Ave Maria University in Ave Maria, FL; Franciscan University in Steubenville, OH...and quite a few more. (See my post of May 15, 2010.)

And so, for parents, especially Catholic parents, I strongly recommend you consider sending all that hard-earned cash to a college that actually offers a good, solid education. Send your almost adult to a school that values the pursuit of truth, one in which his or her faith will be preserved rather than destroyed. This is the preferred option.

An alternative is to encourage the exploration of online educational opportunities. I'm serious about this. Many excellent colleges and universities now offer complete degree programs online. The degree earned is no different from that earned by those who attend classes on campus and your young scholar can escape much of the idiocy that plagues both classroom and dormitory. It is also much less expensive. An additional and not insignificant benefit of an online educational experience is the opportunity it offers to hold down a real job in the real workplace while the student studies from home. Talk about a learning experience! It might require an extra year or two to earn that BA or BS degree, but there is no on-campus substitute for the discipline, maturity, and real-world experience gained from working for a living. And an education paid for, at least in part, by the student becomes far more valuable. I would also encourage the online student to take a trade-related job. Learn the basics of plumbing, or electrical work, or welding, or carpentry; that is, learn a trade for which there will always be a demand. Given the political and economic instabilities of our rapidly changing world, many of our so-called knowledge workers might find themselves without jobs and wishing they knew how to repair a furnace or a Ford.

Anyway, as a result of all this not very clear thinking, I decided to compile a short list of books that I believe all college students should read before or during their years of undergraduate study. I offer these as a kind of antidote to the ideological poison forced on students by too many of their professors.

I have not included the classics -- or "great books" as they are often called -- on my list because every pursuer of truth should make them a part of his journey through life. The late Mortimer Adler -- founder of the Great Books Foundation -- offered a comprehensive list that you can find here: Adler's Great Books. Another list with a Catholic focus can be found on the four-year undergraduate Syllabus of Thomas Aquinas College. I've also placed Adler's famous book, How to Read a Book, among the selections on my list.

Now for the list: books written in recent decades that helped me maintain my sanity in this increasingly fractured world. My aim in offering this list is not to be "fair and balanced" but to help overcome the grotesque ideology of the left that permeates much of modern society. Some of these books I read while in high school and college, others during my working years, and a few since my retirement. Of course, I don't agree with all the ideas expressed by the authors, but every one of these books forced me to think, and to examine and often modify my worldview.

A few comments about my list:

I've resisted listing more than one title for any author but, believe me, each has much more to say and most have done so in other books. I would hope a reading of the books I've included on my list will encourage the reader to dig more deeply into each author's work.

I've provided links (Amazon) to each book. I prefer actual printed editions with covers and paper pages, but most are available in Kindle editions for younger folks who seem not only to tolerate but to prefer digital editions.

Sadly, several of the listed books are no longer in print, so you will have to search for used editions.

To save space I haven't offered descriptions of the books. You can follow the links to Amazon and read the descriptions and reviews included on each book's page.

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How to Read a Book, by Mortimer Adler and Charles Van Doren (1940)

The Servile State, by Hilaire Belloc (1913)

Up from Liberalism, by William F. Buckley (1959)

Orthodoxy, by G. K. Chesterton (1908)

The God that Failed, Ed. by Richard Crossman (1950)

Dynamics of World History, by Christopher Dawson (1978)

Christianity and Culture, by T. S. Eliot (1940)

Out of the Ashes, by Anthony Esolen (2017)

The End of the Modern World, By Romano Guardini (1950)

The Road to Serfdom, by F. A. Hayak (1944)

The Conservative Mind, by Russell Kirk (1953)

Lovely Like Jerusalem, by Aiden Nichols (2007)

Collected Works, Flannery O'Connor (1988)

Leisure, the Basis of Culture, by Josef Pieper (1948)

Personal Knowledge, by Michael Polanyi (1958)

Truth and Tolerance, by Joseph Ratzinger (2002)

The Life of the Mind, by James V. Schall (2006)

Small is Beautiful, by E. F. Schumacher (1973)

Order and History (5 volumes), Eric Voegelin (1956-1987)

Faith and Freedom, by Barbara Ward (1954)

Ideas Have Consequences, by Richard M. Weaver (1948)

I could add a few dozen more to the list, but it's long enough as it is.

Time to work on my homily for tomorrow...