"Love follows knowledge."
"Beauty above all beauty!"
– St. Catherine of Siena

Monday, March 11, 2013

Matthew Monday: The Bandages

Friday Matthew got into his head that I was still sick.  I had been sick with sinus allergies the week before, and so he took out his plastic stethoscope and listened. 

"Daddy, you're sick," he determined after listening carefully. 

"I'm feeling better," I replied. 

"No, you're sick."  He was adamant.  "I'll make you better." 

I shrugged.  I was typing on the computer while he was examining me, and didn't notice where he went.  When he came back he had a roll of masking tape.  He pulled off a strip and bandaged me.  He bandaged my face, reaching up.  Then he pulled off another strip and bandaged another part of my face.  When he couldn't find an end of the tape to pull, he had me find the lead and break him another piece.  He kept bandaging me. 

"This will make you feel better,"  he said.  "Bring your head down."  I lowered my head and he taped up toward the top.  "You're missing another one right here," he said pointing to the other side of my face.  After putting that on, he patted all the bandages down.  "You feeling better?" he asked.

"I'm feeling a lot better, thank you." 

I took a picture of myself after he finished.  Here's his handiwork.

Sunday, March 10, 2013

Notable Quote: Catherine of Siena

In reading Sigrid Undset's Catherine of Siena, I have really grown to love this saintly woman.  I've always considered Francis of Assisi as my personal patron saint, but I think Catherine is going to be a co-patron from the female side, a patroness.  I will have more excerpts from that biography in the near future, but I doubt I will be able to convey her true holiness and greatness with short excerpts.  Both contemplative and active in the world (she convinced Pope Gregory XI to move the papacy from Avignon back to Rome), humble but strong, tough as nails, a true feminist in that she didn't let men and social pressure dictate her life, peace maker (she was the ambassador that brought peace between the papacy and Florence), courageous in expressing the truth, a tireless writer (she typically dictated three letters simultaneously to individual secretaries), mystic, pure as fire, ascetic to the point of not having any flesh on her bones, devout, matriarch to her disciples, mentor, teacher, and theologian, possibly the greatest theologian of her age, she was a truly unique person.  One cannot imagine any woman of her day to have lived such a life or have such a personality.  She was truly an instrument of God.  I found this website, "Drawn By Love," devoted to her, and I hope you explore it.  There is a page there listing some of her quotes.  This one I'll pick as notable:


"It is only through shadows that one comes to know the light."
-St. Catherine of Siena, from Prayer 24.

I don't know the context of her prayer 24, but I pick it for this literary blog because a writer must write of and through shadows to arrive at true meaning.

I also love this image of her dictating to a secretary.  All her secretaries were male, since only men were taught to write, and she had three priests who traveled with her on most of her trips abroad.


Friday, March 8, 2013

Faith Filled Friday: Getting Nearer

Lent is a long process.  I'm not doing great on abstaining from snacks but I am surprising myself on extra praying.  Three plus weeks in and it feels like I'm getting closer to God.  And isn't that the real point of Lent?  Here's something to sing for our journey.







For some reason I really like the way Ann Murray sings this classic.  It's not a fancy version, either in the musical accompaniment or the vocals.  There's not much embellishment.  But Murray modulates her voice so the song builds momentum.  It feels like a journey, a journey getting nearer to God.

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Poetry: "Delight In Disorder" by Robert Herrick

I haven't done enough poetry.  I need to step up on that.  I used to keep a spiral notebook filled with copied handwritten poems I wanted to keep on my fingertips.  Certainly they were among my favorites.  I believe I started that notebook back in college days, which now is some thirty years ago.  I have it right here in front of me.  It has a red cover and it's kind of beaten around the edges.  As I flip through I see it's about two thirds full.  I haven't added too many recently. 

Let me pick one to share, "Delight In Disorder" by the seventeenth century English poet, Robert Herrick.  Herrick was a strange man.  He never married, took holy orders in I assume the Anglican Church, and yet wrote extensively about women and love.  You would think he was a sort of playboy, but there's no evidence that any of the women he mentions ever existed.  Nonetheless he wrote beautiful little poems, thousands of them, with a very retrained use of metaphor.  He mostly delineates and speaks directly.  He lets the language speak for itself, and at his best he maneuvers the words so that they reflect the meaning.  And he keeps a very nice rhythm.  Here's this wonderful poem:


DELIGHT IN DISORDER.
by Robert Herrick


A SWEET disorder in the dress
Kindles in clothes a wantonness :
A lawn about the shoulders thrown
Into a fine distraction :
An erring lace which here and there
Enthrals the crimson stomacher :
A cuff neglectful, and thereby
Ribbons to flow confusedly :
A winning wave (deserving note)
In the tempestuous petticoat :
A careless shoe-string, in whose tie
I see a wild civility :
Do more bewitch me than when art
Is too precise in every part.

The poem is about what it says: beauty is best with a bit of disorder.  There is a metaphor in this poem; the woman stands for art, and the delineation of the woman's careless dress dramatises that art is best when not perfect.  Notice how with each detail his emotions rev up ("tempestuous petticoat") until finally his imagination leaps into seeing "a wild civility."  The narrator is most certainly "bewitched."  He thinks the woman is wild because her shoelace is untied!  LOL.

Here's a very nice reading of the poem.  Hope you enjoyed it.





 

Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Music Tuesday: "En Aranjuez Con Tu Amor" by Andrea Bocelli

I love Andrea Bocelli.  He's definitely my favorite living tenor.  My parents love him too, and I treated them to a concert at Madison Square Garden a few years before my father fell seriously ill, which at this point must be nine or ten years ago.  Taking them to that concert was one of the best things I ever did for them.  Luxuries like that were not something they could afford.  There was also a special connection with Bocelli.  If you don't know, he's blind, and my father was blind for most of his adult life.  So my father had a natural kinship.  But when they guided Bocelli on stage, and my mother and I watched him move in the limited, wary way that blind people do, we realized how similar his mannerism were to those of my father.  It has stuck with me ever since.


I know Bocelli sings mostly in Italian, but this one in Spanish has enthralled me ever since I first heard it.  This song was composed by the great Spanish composer Joaquin Roderigo, and coincidentally he was also blind.  Lorin Maazel, the lead conductor at the New York Philharmonic for some years, is the conductor here and arranged the piece.  The original Roderigo composition I believe was for orchestra, guitar, and voice.  Maazel substitutes the violin for the guitar, and softens the orchestra somewhat, bringing out the vocals and violin.  It does change the true Spanish feel, but still it's quite a nice effect.  You can find this song on Bocelli and Maazel's album titled Sentimento.  Hope you like it.



The lyrics are really beautiful and worth including in its entirety in Spanish.


En Aranjuez Con Tu Amor

Aranjuez,
Un lugar de ensuenos y de amor
Donde un rumor de fuentes de cristal
En el jardín parece hablar
En voz baja a las rosas.

Aranjuez,
Hoy las hojas secas sin color
Que barre el viento
Son recuerdos del romance
Que una vez
Juntos empezamos tu y yo
Y sin razón olvidamos.

Quizá ese amor escondido esta
En un atardecer
En la brisa o en la flor
Esperando tu regreso.

Aranjuez,
Hoy las hojas seces sin color
Que barre el viento
Son recuerdos del romance
Que una vez
Juntos empezamos tu y yo
Y sin razón olvidamos.

En Aranjuez, amor
Tu y yo!

Aranjuez is a medium sized town in Spain dating back into the middle ages and at one time a spring home for the royalty. Here are the first two stanzas in English:

Aranjuez,
A place of dreams and love.
Where a rumor of crystal
Fountains in the garden
Seems to whisper to the roses.
Aranjuez,
Today the dry leaves without color
Which are swept by the wind
Are just reminders of the romance
We once started
And that we've forsaken
Without reason.
Read the entire translation here.

Monday, March 4, 2013

Matthew Monday: "O-N-E"


Wednesday I got another of those emails from my wife about Matthew.  I saw the subject line: “Big Day Today” and I wondered, “now what?” 

From: Mrs. Manny
Sent: Wednesday, February 27, 2013 1:14 PM
To: Manny
Subject: Big Day Today

Matthew hit a milestone at school today. They were practicing drawing the number one and he wrote the word "one". I was a little skeptical but his teacher said he did it all by himself. I have the proof too!!

 


From: Manny
Sent: Wednesday, February 27, 2013 1:47 PM
To: Mrs. Manny
Subject: RE: Big Day Today

He wrote out the three letters "o-n-e"? I'm definitely skeptical.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’ve tried helping Matthew write, but it has all turned out to be scribble.  When I got home, there it was on the page.  He wrote it.  I took a picture of him holding up the page.
 
 

 

There's a bunch of 1's and then on the bottom, "o-n-e."  I still don’t believe he did it all by himself.  But who knows.  Maybe my son is a genius. 

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Book Excerpt: Catherine of Siena by Sigrid Undset

I’ve been reading Catherine of Siena by the Nobel Prize Winning author Sigrid Undset.  I scheduled this reading as my Lenten read, in that the biography is that of Saint Catherine of Siena, the fourteenth century saint who is also a Doctor of the Church. 

 

 

 

So far I’m about a third of the way in.  Her early life has been covered, and I can’t wait to read more.  These two excerpts are from chapter 2, which covers her adolescence and I think provides a good insight into her nature.  The names mentioned in these passages are the following: Lapa is Catherine’s mother, Bonaventura is Catherine’s favorite older sister, Raimondo is her confessor and first biographer, and Jacopo is her father.


It was the custom in Italian towns that once a girl was twelve years old she could not go out unless accompanied by an older woman.  She was considered more or less of an age to be married, and her parents must now begin to look around for a suitable husband.  When Catherine had reached her twelfth year, therefore, there came an end to running errands for her mother or slipping out to visit her married sisters.  Her parents and brothers hoped that they would be able to find a husband for her who would bring honor and advantages to the whole family.  Lapa was especially happy, sure that she would find a remarkable man for her darling, the charming and sensible youngest daughter.

But when Lapa told the young girl that now the time was come to try to make the very best of her beautiful appearance, arrange her lovely hair in the way that suited her best, wash her face more often, and avoid anything which could spoil her delicate complexion and white throat, she was bitterly disappointed.  Catherine was not the least keen to make herself beautiful for the sake of young men: on the contrary, it seemed as though she shunned their company and did everything she could not to be seen by them.  She fled even from the apprentices and assistants who lived in their house, “as though they were snakes.”  She never stood at the front door or leaned out of the window to look at the passers-by and be seen by them.

Lapa sought the help of Bonaventura to make Catherine more amenable.  Lapa knew how extremely fond Catherine was of her elder sister, and for a while it really seemed that Bonaventura succeeded in making the child slightly more obedient to her mother, so that she began to take more care of her appearance.  According to what Raimondo says, Catherine was never a startling beauty, but young and vivacious as she was, slim, with fair skin, beautiful dark eyes and an abundance of that shining golden-brown hair which Italians have always admired so much, she must have been an extraordinarily attractive young woman.

[Excerpts from Catherine of Siena by Sigrid Undset, Translation by Kate Austin-Lund, Ignatius Press, San Francisco, 2009.  p. 19-20]

And after Catherine rejects marriage we see her family tightens the screws.  Catherine then rebels:

It was perhaps Jacopo who had the idea of sending for a Dominican monk who was an old friend of the family in order to see if he could persuade Catherine to comply with the family’s plans.  It was Fra Tommaso della Fonte, who had once been brought up with Catherine.  She confessed to him that she had already promised Christ that she would be His alone as long as she lived.  Fra Tommaso could only advise her to meet the hardness which her family showed her so resolutely that they would have at last to understand that she would never give in.  And Fra Tommaso thought that if she were to cut off her hair, which was her greatest beauty, perhaps they would leave her in peace.

Catherine accepted this advice as though it came from heaven.  She immediately fetched a pair of scissors and cut off her lovely golden-brown plaits close to the head.  Then she tied a little veil over her shorn head.  It was against the custom of that time for an unmarried woman to cover her hair, so when Lapa saw her daughter with this extraordinary headdress she immediately rushed up to her and asked what it meant.  The girl dared not tell her the truth and would not tell a lie, so she did not answer.  Lapa tore off the veil, and when she saw her beautiful daughter standing there so disfigured she sobbed with sorrow and fury: “Child, child, how could you do such a thing to me?”  Silently the girl put on her veil again.  But when Jacopo and the boys came hurrying in, startled by Lapa’s shrieks and tears, and heard what had happened, they threw themselves upon Catherine in fury.

To make matters worse for Catherine she had now a suitor, a young man whom the Benincasas were very intent on bringing into the family.  So they abused her roundly.  “You wicked girl, do you imagine that you can escape our authority by cutting off your hair?  It will grow again, and you shall be married, even if it breaks your heart.  You shall never have any peace or quiet until you give in and do as we say.” 

[p23-4]

That was pretty dramatic, reminiscent of St. Francis of Assisi stripping himself in front of his father.  Her family would go on to make her life at home very difficult.  But Catherine persevered.

The Holy Spirit had taught her how to build herself an inner cell, a place of refuge where she could pray and think of her Beloved, and from this no one could recall her; here no one could come and disturb her.  “The Kingdom of God is within you”: now she understood the meaning of those words, spoken by Him who is truth itself.  Within us—it is there that the gifts of the Holy Spirit are poured out upon us to perfect our natural talents, to break down internal and external obstacles.  If we passionately desire the true good, the heavenly Guest comes and lives within us—He who has said “Be of good courage, I have conquered the world.”

Catherine trusted in Him, and felt that a cell, not built by human hands, was formed within her, so that she had no need to regret what they had taken from her the little cell of wood and stone.  Later she used to advise her disciples when they complained of being so overburdened with the problems of the world that they never found quiet to meet God or to drink of the spring by which they lived: “Build an inner cell in your soul and never leave it.”  Raimondo admits that he did not understand these words of his “mother” at once, but “it is extraordinary to see how I and all who have lived near her understand all her actions and words much better now than in those days when we had her beside us.”

[p. 25]

Sigrid Undset is an interesting woman in her own right as you can read in the Wikipedia entry.  She was Norwegian, though actually born in Denmark, and she grew up in a secular, atheist home but mid way through her life, after a failed marriage, had a crises of faith, and ultimately converted to Catholicism.  She certainly must have had her share of suffering.  Two of her three children died while she was alive, her son killed fighting the Nazis.  While in exile during the war she lived in Brooklyn, NY, where I grew up, though not the same neighborhood.  She was independent, outspoken, and deplored the growing moral relativism.  I can see in this biography she thoroughly understood Catholic theology; she was a ThirdOrder Dominican herself.    Undset is known for her great work, a trilogy of novels, which go by the name of Kristin Lavransdatter   I’ve never read any of her works before, but I certainly intend to read that one eventually.  The work centers on the life of the title character, set in the middle ages in Scandinavia.  Undset is supposed to have done a lot of historical research to accurately portray the lives.  Unfortunately the trilogy amounts to over a thousand pages, and so is a commitment of time.  I will certainly get to it though.