I got my copy of the collected works of Flannery O'Connor. I open the book and the first title that my eyes fall on is a story called, "The Artificial [N-word]" - and I thought, oh... kay... it was the 1940's or whatever. But I decided to read what I thought was the most famous of her stories first (the one I had heard of), called, "A Good Man is Hard to Find." I read it, and when I was done, I said to myself, "What the hell...?"
So then I read "The Artificial [N-word]." And to her credit, other than in the title, she as the narrator does not use the N-word, only certain characters do. But I read the story, and when I was done, I said to myself, "What the hell...?"
Now, I recognize that she is a great writer. But so far (after only 2 short stories) reading her stuff feels to me like picking off a scab - strangely both painful and satisfying at the same time. I also recognize that the problem may be that short stories are just not my "jam." I've got a copy of James Joyce's The Dubliners on my shelf. I've read some of the stories, but not all, but I have a bookmark in the book where I left off last, and every once in a while I go back and read one just to absorb some of the way he creates characters. And I do think that Joyce and O'Connor have a very similar vibe. Maybe it's the Irish thing.
And I've said this before in other contexts, American story-telling does usually require a happy ending. There's some requirement of hope in a story that you don't see in, for example, foreign films, where (and I'm only speculating) they come from a culture that has seen more hardship and tragedy, and so they want more "realism," and a happy ending doesn't feel realistic. I literally avoid Australian films because I just know I'm gonna be bummed out.
Now, of course I have not read enough O'Connor to critique, and I will keep reading (though I'm going for one of the longer stories next). And I also know that my personal desire for a happy ending can blind me to the point of the story until I really look for it, and so far O'Connor's point seems to be something about how we as humans can limit the scope of our lives to something too small, so that we end up forgetting that there is something bigger than this life. But she says that so subtly, I feel like I want her to say it more explicitly.
And for what it's worth, in my own writing of fiction, I find myself thinking, "that's too subtle, the reader won't get it" - and I find myself writing in a way that some might find too obvious. And I wonder if I don't give the reader enough credit, but then I remember that I have very concrete proof of how 21st century people don't read carefully - it's my students, who say they've read the textbook, but their work proves that, if they have read it, they read it like they were reading some clickbait "article" on the internet - in other words, they skimmed it for entertainment value and then moved on.
I'd love to hear your thoughts: Have people lost the ability to see subtlety and subtext (and I'm including myself in that, in my desire for a happy ending)? Have people lost the ability to read deeply at all? If someone like Flannery O'Connor were writing today, would anyone read her stuff - would she even get published? It may be that the short story will see a renaissance, since no one has the patience to read anything longer any more, but would they read this kind of story? On the other hand, a lot of people DO like tragedy, and even horror, but does that come from a morbid fascination, and can they see a message like O'Connor's in it? And finally, for those of you who have read and appreciated O'Connor, please feel free to give me some of your insights.
Here's a short (about a minute) video I took going around the Holy Column in the church of Santa Prassede. This is the column that Jesus was tied to when he was scourged by Pontius Pilate. They don't always have the barrier down, so you usually don't get to see it from all the way around. I wanted to get video of the whole thing all the way around because I ran across a note in an ancient document that said that those who made a pilgrimage (at that time to the Holy Land, since it was still in Jerusalem) could visit the Holy Column, and could see marks left from the hands of Jesus where he gripped it as he was being whipped. I assume that this is pious legend, but I figured since the column has that dark & light marble, maybe there's a place where the dark parts look like hands. I did not see it, but if you do, let me know!
I mentioned in The Journey that I wrote a song based on Isaiah 2, which is one of my favorite OT passages:
In days to come, the mountain of the Lord’s house
shall be established as the highest mountain, and raised above the hills.
All nations shall stream toward it. Many peoples shall come and say:
“Come, let us go up to the Lord’s mountain, to the house of the God of Jacob, That he may instruct us in his ways, and we may walk in his paths.” For from Zion shall go forth instruction, and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.
He shall judge between the nations, and set terms for many peoples.
They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; One nation shall not raise the sword against another, nor shall they train for war again. House of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!
I hope you like the song!
Here is our next set of texts - as we get into John chapter 6, we first encounter Jesus feeding the multitudes - in this case 5,000 families!
Now, as you know, there is also an account o Jesus feeding 4,000, and so you may also know that some scholars might speculate that these are just different versions of the same story that circulated and were handed down orally, until they were written down. Even the fact that both stories occur in the same gospel would not stop that kind of speculation. So I thought the first question I would have to ask was whether the Church fathers thought this was one event or two - BUT (and you see where this is going) I forgot that Jesus himself makes reference to two separate events (in Matthew 16 and in Mark 8) so there is no question for the Church fathers - these are two separate events. So it seems that Jesus performed this sign (miracle) of the feeding of the multitudes on two occasions. It's not just one event told two different ways, and it's also ...
My voice was still recovering from a bad cold, so not sounding my best, but this was a great conversation about pilgrimage, for the Jubilee year - more of this coming in other interviews! (FYI, I think I was the third of three guests that day, so you will have to fast forward to find me)
It seems that one way or another we need to talk about different kinds, or different levels of heresy. What I have been calling heresy vs. heterodoxy, others call heresy on fundamental doctrines vs. heresy on less fundamental doctrines. In other words, Heresy with a capital H (over fundamental doctrines like the Trinity and christology) are the kinds of heresies that move one outside the boundaries of what Christianity is, and that's because the very definition of Christianity is defined according to these fundamental doctrines. To refuse to sign the Creed at the Council of Nicaea in 325, or the Council of Constantinople in 381 - and indeed to reject any of the contents of the Creed today - means that a person is NOT a Christian.
So are the non-chalcedonians, such as the miaphysites (including St. Gregory of Narek, and today's Coptic Christians) - are they heretics? Well, like it is with a lot of things, that depends on your definition of heresy. If you include in your definition of ...
