February 25, 2010
a catholic literature?
In many of O’Connor’s best stories, “Parker’s Back” prominent among them, the religious theme is so subtly dramatized that it can be overlooked by casual readers unaware of the author’s larger purpose. Whatever else her fiction is, it is not Catholic propaganda.6 In the end, though, a critical approach that denies or downplays O’Connor’s faith will necessarily result in only a partial appreciation of her work. It is no more possible to understand a book like Wise Blood without taking Catholicism seriously—if only to reject it—than it is possible to understand the fiction of Isaac Bashevis Singer without taking Judaism seriously. The difference, of course, is that Singer viewed religion with reluctant skepticism, O’Connor with unswerving certitude. As I once wrote in these pages: O’Connor’s Christ-haunted characters differ profoundly from Singer’s demon-infested Jews. In O’Connor, unbelievers living in a fallen world tainted by modernity suddenly find themselves irradiated by grace, but, like Hazel Motes . . . they struggle in vain against its revelatory power. In Singer’s world, by contrast, there are no sudden revelations, only the unquenchable desire to believe, against all evidence to the contrary, that life has meaning.7more from Terry Teachout at Commentary here.
Posted by Morgan Meis at 08:54 AM | Permalink
Comments
Morgan,
Thanks. The article filled in more than a few gaps in my knowledge.
This brief homage to the Roman Catholic Flannery O'Connor's contribution to the 20th century novel reminded me of a 'letter to the editor' I wrote more than 15 years ago. I wrote it in response to one of Pat Buchanan's syndicated columns in the New York Post. It was the lead letter when published.
Buchanan's thesis was that good ideas can only be produced by good people. Bad people produce bad ideas. Don't laugh, it was really that literal. I was so incensed at the stupidity of that 'law of nature' that I wrote my letter.
Well, I was thinking about that at the end of the article in Commentary. Terry Teachout gets a bit defensive at the end, and it was completely unnecessary. Let me quote.
"Might O’Connor’s faith cause the brilliance of her art to fade in an age of increasingly militant secularism whose cultural taste makers do not share her beliefs? The fact that her reputation has continued to grow when so many of her contemporaries have become critical also-rans says something about her staying power. Yet there have always been doubters. In 1972, O’Connor was posthumously given the National Book Award for an omnibus volume of her complete stories. Robert Giroux, her longtime editor, was accosted at the ceremony by a dubious colleague who asked, “Do you really think Flannery O’Connor was a great writer? She’s such a Roman Catholic.”
"It will be interesting—and revealing—to see whether that question is asked with increasing frequency in the years to come."
First, the notion of an "...age of increasingly militant secularism whose cultural taste makers do not share her beliefs..", is ridiculous. There are secularists who are militant. But, how does one characterize our times being an "age of increasing militant secularism" in this county? We have militant fundamentalism, and it is increasing. Teachout is presuming a easier recognition of great literature if the reader is Roman Catholic. If the reader is not Roman Catholic, or not a believer, he presumes their taste for good literature will be compromised.
Getting back to my main point, great (good) literature, religious, indifferent, or secular, has been appreciated by believers (good?) and non-believers (bad?) alike. Yes, there will be comments from airheads like the one Teachout quoted above. Mediocre (bad) literature will be produced by believers and non-believers. The (good?) readers among believers and the (bad?) readers will exercise the same discrimination, and will probably agree more than not on what literature should be tossed into the dust bin.
Posted by: Norman Costa | Feb 25, 2010 7:46:23 PM
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