Silence

I never realized how meaningful silence is until I read this post.  So true!  I love it.

The Stranger

A MILL, standing in from the road, made him pause.  The gray of his suit was whitened with dust, but it was a well-tailored suit, and you knew at a glance that it's owner could wear it.  When you looked at him, you noticed the face most of all: a face of character, a face that showed reserves of strength, a cultured face, penciled by some secret sorrow in lines that were firm but not hard.  They softened now, as he looked at the mill, and a certain wistfulness came into his face, like that with which a person looks at a sleeping child, or a man thinks of the time when the dew was on his dreams. Then, for a moment, a little smile played about his lips and the firm lines softened.

Thus begins The Stranger by Malachy G. Carroll

I should say first that I knew nothing about this novel before reading it.  When I saw the title and its 1952 copyright I automatically thought a mystery, complete with a murder, and a couple of genius detectives.  Was I ever wrong!  It was mysterious, and it also, in a way, remotely involved detectives, but I was still so very wrong!

Then I began to read.  I very quickly realized my mistake.  It opened lightly, with Irish joy and humor, and I read avidly, delighted to have found something so rare as this promised to be.  However, it proved to be ever so much rarer than I thought, even then. 

I don't know how to tell anything about this without giving it away.    The story is such a wonderful surprise that I wouldn't want it to be less so for anyone than it was for me.  At the same time I want everyone to read it, and how do you make someone want to read anything without telling them about it?  I can't tell you how many book recommendations I have seen on blogs, and thought, Well, that looks interesting and all, but I already have a book list ten miles long.  I don't think I'll get around to buying it any time soon, and promptly proceeded to forget it.  I don't want you to do the same with my recommendation of this book (which you can buy here, so do it now!).  I'll tell you a little, but I'll stop before it gets interesting ;)

A man with the light of Christ in his sad, compassionate eyes, wanders into an Irish town.  Nobody knows who he is, where he's from, or where he's going.  He's a daily communicant, a hard worker, and the children love him, so why does he avoid the good parish priest?  For a while the townspeople make many and various speculations as to his true identity.  Why do they talk to him and come away with no more information than they started with?  What is his secret?  They soon run out of inventive answers to their own questions, and leave him in peace, accepting him for his kindness and obvious love of the children.

It is beautifully Catholic, and has a depth and beauty I hadn't expected.  I laughed and cried with it.  I won't tell you any more except to share a couple of quotations with you.  Quotations that, while beautiful, won't spoil the story for you!  They aren't necessarily from the point of view of the protagonist.  Here you are!

*          *          *

     "The Mother of God," he muttered, "never looked down her nose at the Magdalen." ...What a lovely phrase! he thought.  It had a strange beauty, as if, in the gloom about him, he had suddenly met the odor of a rose.  She was called a rose in the Litany.  It was a long time since he had remembered that.  Yes, that was it--Mystical Rose.  The idea became a prayer: the first prayer that had softened the hard places in his soul for many years.  And it had been put upon his lips by a street woman.  Such a grace was like a boomerang; it would probably return to the dejected, sodden girl who had been its pathetic instrument.  Some morning, the Communion dress would be white again.

*          *          *

     Night had come on him, flowing like a river of darkness through the rent in his soul: lonely stretches of desolation lay before the eyes of his soul, and he sat before his desolation, holding the cold body of his dreams in his arms, as Mary had held her Son.  But his comparison was a whip of light cutting across his sorrow.  The thought of Mary can be as a drop of rich wine dropped into the brine of our sorrows to suffuse it as with the blood that filled the veins of God.

Book Tag

I'm sorry it takes me so long to post!  But I have good news!




I'm working on it... like... tomorrow...



In the meantime...
Here's a book tag!
I tag anyone who wants to do it.
(Just leave a comment and let me know!  I'd like to see your answers!)

Do you snack while you read? If so, favourite reading snack: 

An apple.  I know...  It's original...

What is your favourite drink while reading?

Tea!  I love tea.

Do you tend to mark your books as you read, or does the idea of writing in books horrify you?

Frankly, it horrifies me.  (Although... I did a lot of underlining in The Confessions of St. Augustine.  I know.  I could hardly bring myself to do it.  I won't do it again!) 

How do you keep your place while reading a book? Bookmark? Dog-ears? Laying the book flat open? 

I just grab the nearest object and stick it in my book.  I've been doing better lately, though, and using bookmarks.

Fiction, non-fiction, or both?

Fiction!  Though I like other stuff, too.

Are you a person who tends to read to the end of a chapter, or can you stop anywhere?

I had to learn at a very young age to stop anywhere.  On pain of death.  JK! 

Are you the type of person to throw a book across the room or on the floor if the author irritates you?

No... Although I have burned a few with unacceptable content... I owned them... Just so you know...

If you come across an unfamiliar word, do you stop and look it up right away?

Only if it is most imperative.  Therefore, practically never.  I can usually figure it out by its context.

What are you currently reading?

The Count of Monte Christo by Alexandre Dumas

The King's Achievement by Fr. Robert Hugh Benson

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky

What is the last book you bought?

Bleak House by Charles Dickens

Do you have a favourite time/place to read?

Any time at all... though I prefer times when I can do so undisturbed.  (Which leaves mostly at night in bed.)

 

Do you prefer series books or stand alones?

How am I to answer this question?  I guess it all depends.  I'm always very excited to hear one of my favorite books has a sequel, but I also dearly love the many stand alones I have. 

Is there a specific book or author you find yourself recommending over and over?

Yes!  Chesterton!  Always!  And Fr. Benson, Baroness Orczy, P. G. Wodehouse, Fr. Owen Francis Dudley... Oh, there are so many!

As for individual books... The Stranger by Malachy G. Carroll and The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope

How do you organize your books? (by genre, title, author’s last name, etc.)

None of the above, really.  I guess kind of by genre.  I keep my authors together, and as for the rest... I stick them where they'll fit, or with other books of similar size, or from the same publisher, etc.

Defending Our Spiritual Interests



Bl. Anacleto Gonzolez Flores



"We are not worried about defending our material interests because these come and go; but our spiritual interests, these we will defend because they are necessary to obtain our salvation."

~ Bl. Anacleto Gonzalez Flores



Bl. Jose Luis Sanchez del Rio



Bl. Anacleto was one of the many real characters in the awe inspiring movie For Greater Glory, which movie I recommend with the highest possible recommendation!  If you have not seen this go rent it/buy it/whatever you have to do to watch it.  Yes!  It's that amazing!  (Don't ignore me!)  You can find out more about this amazing young man here.  And, while you're over there, take a look at Bl. Jose Luis Sanchez del Rio, another incredible character in For Greater Glory.  However, I put a SPOILER ALERT on those two links about Bl. Jose and Bl. Anacleto.  Just warning you!

Viva Christo Rey!

"The Science of Love"

The science of love!  Sweet is the echo of that word to the ear of my soul.  I desire no other science.

    - St. Therese, Story of a Soul Chapter VIII

Perfect in Weakness

Here is a link to a beautiful post on weakness and femininity at Clare's lovely blog The Catholic Young Woman.

Sound familiar?

"We dig deeper and we blow you higher.  We wish to deny all those arbitrary distinctions of vice and virtue, honor and treachery, upon which mere rebels base themselves.  The silly sentamentalists of the French Revolution talked of the Rights of Man!  We hate Rights as we hate Wrongs.  We have abolished Right and Wrong."

- Gregory to Syme, Chesterton's The Man Who was Thursday



Sounds a bit like the current state of affairs, does it not?

Inexpressibly Irritating Fellow



"Suffice it to say that you were an inexpressibly irritating fellow, and, to do you justice, you are still.  I would break twenty oaths of secrecy for the pleasure of taking you down a peg.  That way you have of lighting a cigar would make a priest break the seal of confession."

-Gregory to Syme, Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday

Madness

Now, why does a man like to be made sad by viewing doleful and tragic scenes, which he himself could not by any means endure?  Yet, as a spectator, he wishes to experience from them a sense of grief, and in this very sense of grief his pleasure consists.  What is this but wretched madness?

- St. Augustine, Confessions [3.2.2]

Put that way, I can't help but agree... but, in the words of Eunice from Quo Vadis, "Do not ask me, my lord, for I am one of the mad!"

"The Strategems of Thy Love..."

"O my Redeemer, most worthy of love, I will no longer resist the strategems of Thy love; I give Thee from henceforth my whole love."

~St. Alphonsus Liguori, The Passion and Death of Jesus Christ

More Jeeves!



"What-ho, Jeeves!"  I said, entering the room where he waded knee deep in suitcases and shirts and winter suitings, like a sea-beast among rocks.  "Packing?" 

"Yes, sir," answered the honest fellow, for there are no secrets between us.

Life is Beautiful

I really like that song!  After seeing October Baby when it first came out in theatres, I had only one comment...



Larry totally captures it all ;-)!!!!  (It's true, though.  I came out of the theater crying like a baby...  Shhhh... Don't tell...)



"I Will Carry You..."

"Unhappy the audacious soul which hoped that by abandoning you it would find some better thing!  It tossed and turned upon back and side and belly — but the bed is hard, and you alone are rest.  And here you are, to deliver us from our wretched wanderings and set us in your way, and you comfort us and say, 'Run, I will carry you and I will lead you home, and there I will carry you.' [Isaiah 46:4]"

- Confessions, St. Augustine, [6.16.26]

Opportunities



"You are the heir of all the centuries in literature, in art, in science, in commerce, and in every avenue of achievement.  True, the world is full of temptations and opportunities for evil, as it always was, but it is full of far greater opportunities, far more multiplied chances for good.  If you choose to invest your life as you should, you have a field of sublime excellence for that investment." 

-Fr. Edward F. Garesche,  The Catholic Book of Character and Success

Till We Have Faces - C. S. Lewis



     "The Gods have been accused by you. Now's their turn."
     "I cannot hope for mercy."
     "Infinite hopes - and fears - may both be yours.  Be sure that whatever else you get, you will not get justice."
     "Are the gods not just?"
     "Oh no, child.  What would happen to us if they were?" 

Lack of Post

We're having technical difficulties on this end, so please don't mind us if we don't post very regularly for a little while!

Martyrs Are Willing



"You are the new recruit? All right, you are engaged."
"I really have no experience..."
"No one has any experience of the battle of Armageddon."
"But I'm really unfit..."
"You are willing, that is enough."
"Now, really, I know of no occupation for which mere willingness is the final test."
"I do. Martyrs. I am sending you to your death. Good day."

-Syme and the police chief in Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday

Life with Jeeves

I have, up to now, neglected a very important pair of individuals, but no longer!  In this post I shall give you a little shower of quotations from a beloved duo... Jeeves and Wooster!



"If there was a defect in his lordships mode of life, it was that he was a little unduly attached to the pleasures of the table-"

"Ate like a pig, you mean?"

"I would not have ventured to put it quite that way, sir, but the expression does meet the facts of the case...."

- Very Good, Jeeves

"And which of us is going to tell Aunt Agatha that?"

"If I might make a suggestion, sir, I would advise that we omitted to communicate with Mrs. Spenser Gregson in any way. I have your suitcase practically packed. It would be a matter of but a few minutes to bring the car around from the garage--"

"And off over the horizon to where men are men?"

"Precisely, sir."

"Jeeves," I said. "I'm not sure that even now I can altogether see eye to eye with regard to your recent activities. You think you have scattered light and sweetness on every side. I am not so sure. However, with this latest suggestion you have rung the bell. I examine it narrowly and I find no flaw in it. It is the goods. I'll get the car at once."

"Very good, sir."

"Remember what the poet Shakespeare said, Jeeves."

"What was that, sir?"

"'Exit hurriedly, pursued by a bear'. You'll find it in one of his plays. I remember drawing a picture of it on the side of the page, when I was at school."

- Very Good, Jeeves

 



I don't know if you know that sort of feeling you get on those days round about the end of April and the beginning of May, when the sky's a light blue, with cotton-wool clouds, and there's a bit of a breeze blowing from the west? Kind of uplifted feeling. Romantic, if you know what I mean. I'm not much of a ladies' man, but on this particular morning it seemed to me that what I really wanted was for some charming girl to buzz up and ask me to save her from assassins or something. So it was a bit of an anti-climax when I merely ran into young Bingo Little, looking perfectly foul in a crimson satin tie decorated with horseshoes.

- The Inimitable Jeeves

"Jeeves," I said. "A rummy communication has arrived from Mr. Glossop."

"Indeed, sir?"

"I will read it to you. Handed in at Upper Bleaching. Message runs as follows:

"'When you come tomorrow, bring my football boots. Also, if humanly possible, Irish water-spaniel. Urgent. Regards. Tuppy.'

"What do you make of that, Jeeves?"

"As I interpret the document, sir, Mr. Glossop wishes you, when you come tomorrow, to bring his football boots. Also, if humanly possible, an Irish water-spaniel. He hints that the matter is urgent, and sends his regards."

"Yes, that's how I read it, too."

- Very Good, Jeeves

One Soul



"To each man one soul only is given; to each soul only is given a little power - the power at some moments to outgrow and swallow up the stars."

~Napoleon of Notting Hill, G. K. Chesterton

Swan Lake

Does music reach a higher perfection?  This is definitely one of the most beautiful musical compositions ever!

The Trial of Temptation



"Virtue is nothing without the trial of temptation, for there is no conflict without an enemy, no victory without a strife"

~St. Leo the Great

"You want to know what I am..."

"You want to know what I am, do you? Bull, you are a man of science. Grub in the roots of those trees and find out the truth about them. Syme, you are a poet. Stare at those morning clouds. But I tell you this, that you will have found out the truth of the last tree and the top-most cloud before the truth about me. You will understand the sea, and I shall be still a riddle; you shall know what the stars are, and not know what I am."

-spoken by Sunday, from The Man Who was Thursday, by G. K. Chesterton

  

Yes, once again I am quoting The Man Who Was Thursday. I really can't help myself, so please don't hold it against me! This book is completely packed with wisdom and a depth of understanding that has a tendency to give me a tiny peek at the magnificence of God and fills me with wonder and awe. (I can't articulate very well on this point, as I usually express most of these sensations with sounds, or motions of the hand, etc. ;)) I'm sure you know what I mean. I can read something that I may recognize as beautiful without it actually gripping me, then I'll come across something that for some reason awakens me. Someone may express an old truth that I took for granted, but they'll put it in such a way that it hits home for the first time.  In the words of Saint Augustine:  "Thou hast enlightened, Thou hast shone forth, and my blindness is dispelled."

"You will understand the sea, and I shall be still a riddle; you shall know what the stars are, and not know what I am."

The purpose of this post was to give my take on this statement of Sunday's; to comment on it, and elaborate on the points of its awe inspiring meaning. But now that I come to it, I cannot. I will leave it to speak for itself. I can add nothing.

Pimpernel Smith (1941)

A bit of witty dialogue from Leslie Howard's Pimpernel Smith.

General von Graum: But we have one problem. "To be or not to Be?" as our great German poet said.
Professor Horatio Smith: German? But that's Shakespeare.
General Von Graum: But you don't know?
Professor Horatio Smith: Why, I know it's Shakespeare. I thought Shakespeare was English.
General von Graum: No, no, no. Shakespeare is a German. Professor Schuessbacher has proved it once and for all. Professor Horatio Smith: Yes, how very upsetting. Still, you must admit that the English translations are most remarkable.
General von Graum: Good night.
Professor Horatio Smith: Good night. Good night. "Parting is such sweet sorrow."
General von Graum: What is that?
Professor Horatio Smith: That's one of the most famous lines in German literature.

Professor Horatio Smith: I'm so glad to find you're not busy, because I've been doing a little research for you...
General von Graum: That's just what I wanted to do.
Professor Horatio Smith: ...On the identity of Shakespeare.
General von Graum: I'd like to know how you spent this afternoon.
Professor Horatio Smith: What's the matter with you? You seem upset. I spent the afternoon at the library at the embassy. Now this, this proves conclusively that Shakespeare wasn't really Shakespeare at all.
General von Graum: No?
Professor Horatio Smith: No. He was the Earl of Oxford. Now you can't pretend that the Earl of Oxford was a German, can you?
Professor Horatio Smith: [Speaking to the German Officer] Can you?
German Officer: No!
Professor Horatio Smith: Well there you are.
German Officer: I didn't come here to discuss Shakespeare. If you want me, you know where I am.
Professor Horatio Smith: The Earl of Oxford was a very bright Elizabethan light.

"It's wonderful what one can teach when one tries."

Having been unjustly "sent down" for "indecent behavior" and having been temporarily - and conveniently - cast off by his Uncle, Paul Pennyfeather is looking for a job.  This is a rather humorous excerpt from his conversation with Mr. Levy of the employment agency, taken from Decline and Fall by Evelyn Waugh.  (I am in the middle of this book right now, and have little doubt that I shall have more to say about it when I have finished it ;-))



     "Private and Confidential Notice of Vacancy.

     "Augustus Fagan, Esquire, Ph. D., Llanabba Castle, N. Wales, requires immediately junior assistant master to teach Classics and English to University Standard with Subsidiary Mathematics, German, and French.  Experience essential; first-class games essential.

     "Status of School: School.

     "Salary offered: £120 resident post.

     "Reply promptly but carefully to Dr. Fagan ('Esq., Ph. D., on envelope), enclosing copies of testimonials and photographs, if considered advisable, mentioning that you have heard of the vacancy through us."

     "Might have been made for you," said Mr. Levy.

     "But I don't know a word of German, I've had no experience, I've got no testimonials, and I can't play cricket."

     "It doesn't do to be too modest," said Mr. Levy.  "It's wonderful what one can teach when one tries.  Why, only last term we sent a man who had never been in a laboratory in his life as a senior Science Master to one of our leading public schools.  He came wanting to do private coaching in music.  He's doing very well, I believe.  Besides, Dr. Fagan can't expect all that for the salary he's offering.  Between ourselves, Llanabba hasn't a good name in the profession.  We class schools, you see, into four grades: Leading School, First-rate School, Good School, and School.  Frankly," said Mr. Levy, "School is pretty bad.  I think you'll find it a very suitable post.  So far as I know, there are only two other candidates, and one of them is totally deaf, poor fellow."

Thoughts from Thursday

I would like to share with you one of my favorite Chesterton quotations.  An exerpt from The Man Who Was Thursday.  Spoiler Alert!



"I see everything," he cried, "everything that there is. Why does each thing on the earth war against each other thing? Why does each small thing in the world have to fight against the world itself? Why does a fly have to fight the whole universe? Why does a dandelion have to fight the whole universe? For the same reason that I had to be alone in the dreadful Council of the Days. So that each thing that obeys law may have the glory and isolation of the anarchist. So that each man fighting for order may be as brave and good a man as the dynamiter. So that the real lie of Satan may be flung back in the face of this blasphemer, so that by tears and torture we may earn the right to say to this man, 'You lie!' No agonies can be too great to buy the right to say to this accuser, "We also have suffered."

"It is not true that we have never been broken. We have been broken upon the wheel. It is not true that we have never descended from these thrones. We have descended into hell. We were complaining of unforgettable miseries even at the very moment when this man entered insolently to accuse us of happiness. I repel the slander; we have not been happy. I can answer for every one of the great guards of Law whom he has accused. At least —"

He had turned his eyes so as to see suddenly the great face of Sunday, which wore a strange smile.

"Have you," he cried in a dreadful voice, "have you ever suffered?"

As he gazed, the great face grew to an awful size, grew larger than the colossal mask of memnon, which had made him scream as a child. It grew larger and larger, filling the whole sky; then everything went black. Only in the blackness before it entirely destroyed his brain he seemed to hear a distant voice saying a commonplace text that he had heard somewhere, "Can ye drink of the cup that I drink of?"

The Virginian

Ever since the first time I read it, I have loved Owen Wister's The Virginian. The nameless hero, some eight years later, is still one of my favorites of all time. Why do I love the Virginian? Here are a few of my reasons, in no particular order, with quotations to back me up!



　

　1. Something that always captures my attention is another man's opinion of the protagonist. This book is full of them!

"But no dinginess of travel or shabbiness of attire could tarnish the splendor that radiated from his youth and strength. The old man upon whose temper his remarks were doing such deadly work was combed and curried to a finish, a bridegroom swept and garnished; but alas for age! Had I been the bride, I should have taken the giant, dust and all."

　

　


2. I love that southern accent of his. The book is peppered with mentions of his accent.

"The voice was Southern and gentle and drawling..."

　

"Internal mirth seemed to highten the local flavor of his speech."

　

"The Virginian spoke with a reassuring drawl."

　

　


3. He frequently makes me laugh aloud. He's as mischeivous as a school boy!

"'Oh, don't go to get married again, Uncle Hughey! What's the use o' being married?'

"'What's the use?' echoed the bridegroom, with scorn. 'Hm! When you grow up you'll think different.'

"'Course I expect to think different when my age is different. I'm havin' the thoughts proper to twenty-four, and you're havin' the thoughts proper to sixty.'

"'Fifty!' shrieked Uncle Hughey, jumping in the air.

"The Southerner took a tone of self reproach. 'Now, how could I forget you was fifty,' he murmured, 'when you been telling it to the boys so careful for the last ten years.'"

---

"'Oh, you musn't mind him,' drawled the Virginian. 'He's one of those box headed jokers that goes around openin' and shuttin' doors that-a-way. We call him harmless.'"

　

　
4. He's determined.

"Molly Wood was regarding him saucily. 'I don't think I like you,' said she.

"'That's all square enough. You're going to love me before we get through.'"

　

　



5. He's not to be trifled with.

"...Trampas spoke. 'Your bet, you -----------------.'

"The Virginian's pistol came out, and his hand lay on the table, holding it unaimed. And with a voice as gentle as ever, the voice that sounded almost like a caress, but drawling a very little more than usual, so that there was almost a space between each word, he issued his orders to the man Trampas: --

"'When you call me that, smile!' And he looked at Trampas across the table.

"Yes, the voice was gentle. But in my ears it seemed as if the bell of death was ringing; and silence, like a stroke, fell on the whole room."

---

"'Hell!' he said, at the sight of the distant town. Then truculently, to the Virginian, 'I told you I was going to get a bottle here.'

"'Have your bottle, then, said the deputy foreman, and kicked him off into Dakota.... The Virginian had aimed his pistol at about the same time with his boot. Therefore the man sat in Dakota quietly, watching us go away into Montana, and offering no objections. Just before he became too small to make out, we saw him rise and remove himself back toward the saloons."

　

　


6. He has the admiration of nearly all of those who know him, and some who don't - both men and women.

"The player looked at the Virginian, doubtfully. 'Well,' he said, 'I don't know what you folks call a dangerous man.'

"'Not him!' excaimed the dealer, with admiration. 'He's a brave man. That's different.'"

---

"Molly was flustered. She did not at all want him to go. No one of her admirers had ever been like this creature. The fringed leathern chapperoes, the cartridge belt, the flannel shirt, the knotted scarf at the neck, these things were now an old story to her. Since her arrival she had seen young men and old in plenty dressed thus. But worn by this man now standing at her door, they seemed to radiate romance. She did not want him to go - and she wished to win her battle."

---

"Indeed, the male crowd now was a goodly sight to see, how the men edged close, drawn by a common tie.... All eyes watched the Virginian and gave him their entire sympathy....Even the Indian chiefs had come to see... They naturally understood nothing of it, yet magnetically knew that the Virginian was the great man. And they watched with approval."

　

　

　

I could go on and on and on... but I'll spare y'all! This post is already pretty long! Maybe someday I'll post on this topic again? We'll see...



Wonder

When I visited Christendom College a couple of summers ago, one of the professors gave the most beautiful description of wonder. He said that wonder is what one experiences when he sees part of the truth, knows that it is only a small part, and is filled with awe at the realization that there is so much more to learn. He described it as a young man seeing a beautiful young woman and realizing that there is so much more to know about her.

The desire to learn more that ensues from wonder is one of the greatest joys I have ever known. Wonder is, in a way, the delight of anticipation. Wonder is such a beautiful, exiting thing! The knowledge that there is always more to know! Just think about it! Each thing you read and learn opens the door to a new sphere. Perhaps this accounts for my love of winding roads. Where is my destination? Where will my life take me next? I have only experienced such a small part of it. There is so much before me that is hidden by the countless bends. What lies ahead? What joys lie in wait? What sorrows?

The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.

-J. R. R. Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring