More Irish than the Irish

In last week's post I mentioned the O'Connor conference in Ireland next year.  While the conference is taking place in the author's ancestral homeland, it may surprise readers of this blog to learn that Flannery's opinions of  Ireland and its people were rather mixed.  Her friend Ashley Brown said Flannery "had a  rather low opinion of Ireland.  She called Blarney Castle 'Baloney Castle.'" (At Home With Flannery O'Connor: An Oral History, p.113).  In a letter to Janet McKane, Flannery confessed, "I have never been greatly tied emotionally or sentimentally to my own Irish background.  The Irish in America are sometimes more Irish than the Irish and I suppose some of my indifference is a reaction against that." (The Habit of Being, p. 531).  No doubt Flannery was thinking of all the cliched St. Patrick's Day celebrations she had witnessed in Savannah growing up. "I was brought up in Savannah where there was a colony of the Over-Irish.  They have the biggest St. Patrick's Day parade anywhere and generally go nutty on the subject."   In this same letter, however, she goes on to add that she finds the people of Ireland lovely.  "On the other hand, all the Irish from Ireland that I have ever seen have been charming."  That is how I found them to be when I visited the country 33 years ago, and I bet foreign visitors to next year's conference will too. 
- Mark

The Mystery of Place

Here's something that's sure to stir interest amongst the readers of this blog: the details for the next international Flannery O'Connor conference have been announced. Flannery O'Connor and the Mystery of Place will take place next July 24-26, 2014 at All Hallows College in Dublin, Ireland.  Presenters already lined up  include Gina Ochsner, John F. Deane, and Brenda Bynum.  Among the highlights of the conference are an opening night reception, optional dinner at Johnnie Fox's Irish Pub on Friday, a dramatic and entertaining reading by Brenda Bynum on the final night of the conference, and much, much more.  Ireland is certainly one of the most beautiful countries in the world and what a wonderful opportunity this would be for Flannery's fans to participate in what promises to be a most stimulating conference in the author's ancestral homeland.  For more information click here.
- Mark

Fly Peacock, Fly

On my way into work on Tuesday I was listening to NPR's morning show, Performance Today.  One of the pieces that day was a work I had never heard before, "The Peacock," by the twentieth century Hungarian composer, Zoltan Kodaly.  It is a  theme and variations for orchestra based on an old Hungarian folksong called "Fly Peacock, Fly."  If I remember correctly, the song tells the story of a peacock who visits a prisoner who is longing to be released so that he can be reunited with his love.  Each day the peacock flies to the prisoner's cell and serenades him.  The peacock's song sustains the prisoner in  his ordeal and gives him hope.  When I heard the Kodaly piece I immediately thought of Flannery and how her peafowl must have sustained her during her 13-year bout with lupus.  While the birds themselves might have afforded her some solace, I doubt their shrill cacophony did  - keep in mind that at one time she had as many as 50 of these critters out here.  Still, I think Flannery would have been delighted to know that a composer had written a piece based on the peacock's song (a piece that at the time was as controversial as some of Flannery's own stories). For those interested in hearing how Kodaly set this to music click on the Performance Today website for July 9th.  Fred Child's introduction of the piece is entertaining and worthwhile, too. 
- Mark

Coming this Fall

When I got hooked on Flannery O'Connor four years ago, I tried to read everything about her that I could get my hands on.  One of the more helpful books, was Flannery O'Connor's Georgia by Barbara McKenzie.  What drew me to this book was the way it seemed to capture in word and photograph the fictional world of Flannery O'Connor - which wasn't so fictional after all!  The photographs of preachers seized by the Holy Spirit, full immersion baptisms in muddy creeks, and fire and brimstone highway signs, evoke so well the cultural milieu of Hazel Motes, Francis Marion Tarwater, and Mrs. Greenleaf.  Psychiatrist Robert Coles wrote a splendid introduction that provides the context for this collection of vintage photographs that has sadly been out of print for years.  Recently, however,  the University of Georgia Press announced that they will be bringing it back in the fall.  We look forward to carrying the new edition in our gift shop as soon as it rolls off the press. 
- Mark

Mystical Mentor

A quick overview of the books in Flannery O'Connor's library reveals that she did not have much of a taste for mysticism or contemplative writing.  Sure, she owned and read some of the basic texts, but it just wasn't her cup of tea (see, for example, her letter to Ted Spivey - The Habit of Being, p. 297).  She was drawn more to the theological giants of the church and read everyone from Thomas Aquinas to Romano Guardini.  Not surprisingly, a more structured prayer life also was more suited to her spiritual temperament.  She prayed the rosary, the daily office, and, of course, attended mass almost every day.  Beyond these practices, she recited formal prayers such as the Prayer to St. Raphael (see the post for May 31). When it came to silent contemplation, she felt it was better to leave that to the monks at Conyers.  There was one writer on Christian mysticism, however, she endorsed enthusiastically and whose magnum opus, The Mystical Element of Religion as Studied in Saint Catherine of Genoa and Her Friends, she encouraged others to read: Friedrich von Hugel (1852-1925).   As important and indispensable as von Hugel's book may be, it is also very, very difficult.  Take it from me, I gave this two volume doorstop a try, and finally had to throw in the towel.  More my speed is Mysticism: A Study in the Nature and Development of Man's Spiritual Consciousness.  First published in 1911, this volume by Evelyn Underhill remains the most read introduction to mysticism in the English language.  Even Flannery, who had a general distrust of Anglicans, praised this "mine of information." (The Habit of Being, p. 116).
- Mark

Better Late than Never

Did you know that Flannery O'Connor's novel, The Violent Bear It Away, has been named by America magazine's Catholic Book Club as their selection for the month of June?  This is the first time that a work by O'Connor has ever been chosen. Acknowledging this grave omission in the book club's 85-year history, editor Kevin Spinale writes "the Catholic Book Club seeks to right a wrong with this month’s selection.   Since its inception in 1928, CBC has never chosen a work by Flannery O’Connor.  This month, we will read and discuss O'Connor’s novel, The Violent Bear It Away."  My question is why this book and why now?  Wouldn't her collected short stories be more apropos to start with for readers who may have no knowledge of Flannery?  To introduce the novel, Spinale has written an engaging piece for America.  Especially interesting are some of the questions he raises based on his reading of the novel.  Take a look, too, at the full list of Catholic Book Club selections through the years.  Flannery shouldn't feel too bad not making the cut 'til 2013.  It took poor St. Augustine until 1960 to get on their list. 
- Mark

A Place Called Sickness

Most readers of this blog know that Flannery O'Connor suffered from the chronic autoimmune disease, lupus erythematosus, that eventually took her life in 1964 at the young age of 39.  O'Connor rarely talked about her illness.  One of these infrequent occasions was in a  letter she wrote to her friend Betty Hester in 1956.  Speaking of her suffering Flannery writes: "I have never been anywhere but sick.  In a sense, sickness is a place, more instructive than a long trip to Europe, and it's always a place where there's no company, where nobody can follow.  Sickness before death is a very appropriate thing and I think those who don't have it miss one of God's mercies." (The Habit of Being, p. 163).  Unless one has lived with a chronic, life-threatening disease, the reader is unlikely to empathize with the feelings Flannery discloses in this letter.  He or she has probably never experienced that kind of loneliness nor could possibly imagine how an illness can be one of God's mercies.  One man who does understand is the former editor of Poetry Magazine, Christian Wiman, who for the last few years has suffered with a nasty, aggressive form of cancer.  He writes bravely of his struggles in his new book, My Bright Abyss.  In a review of it in the New York Times Kathleen Norris characterizes the book as "urgent and daring."  Indeed! What's especially daring is Wiman's level of honesty.  Writing in a style reminiscent of Pascal, Wiman struggles to find faith as he stares into an abyss of impending loss and annihilation.  I agree with everything Kathleen Norris says in her review of this important book and strongly implore you to read My Bright Abyss.
- Mark

The Sacred Heart of Jesus

Visitors to Andalusia frequently notice the image of the Sacred Heart hanging on the stairway wall and occasionally ask if Flannery had a particular devotion to it.  Since today is the Solemnity of the Sacred Heart of Jesus on the Catholic calendar, I thought I would address that question and share what little we know about the provenance of the picture.  I haven't read anything in Flannery's letters or other writings that would suggest she was devoted in a special way to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  At the same time, since the family worshiped at Sacred Heart Catholic Church, one would suspect that the image conveyed special meaning to the O'Connors.  The etching done by the obscure artist F. Giusto, however, is no mere decorative piece.  It is a 300 day indulgence granted by Pope Benedict XV on July 17, 1921.  There is an inscription in both Latin and English at the bottom of the print that reads: "We grant three hundred days indulgence to the Faithful who shall recite three "Gloria Patri" before one of these pictures of the Sacred Heart."  It is signed by the Pope and dated 17 July 1921.   Though the picture is original to the house, it is doubtful it was displayed in its current location.  In fact, when the FOCA Foundation was deeded the property, this image of the Sacred Heart was in what is now the gift shop where the Library of America photograph of Flannery now hangs.  If anyone knows more about the circumstances of the O'Connor's acquisition of the Sacred Heart print or where it originally was displayed please let us know. The image you see above is the actual print at Andalusia.
- Mark

Guiding Angel

One of the more attractive items in our gift shop is a St. Raphael prayer card designed by one of Flannery's first cousins, Frances Florencourt.  This prayer was so important to Flannery that she recited it every day for many years (The Habit of Being, p. 590).  Furthermore, as disclosed in a letter to Betty Hester in 1956 (see The Habit of Being p. 132), O'Connor even borrowed imagery from it and put it in her short story, "The Displaced Person" ("the business of Mrs. Shortley  looking on the frontiers of her true country.").  The allusion is apropos since all of us are, like Mrs. Shortley, travelers journeying to our "true country." According to Catholic belief, Raphael is the patron saint of travelers (in addition to medical workers and matchmakers).  In the biblical book of Tobit (considered canonical by Catholics), the archangel Raphael appears in human form as Azarias, the traveling companion of Tobit's blind son, Tobias.  During the course of their journey, Azarias's protective beneficence is revealed in many ways, including the binding of a demon in the Egyptian desert.  Upon reaching their destination and Tobias's miraculous healing, Azarias reveals himself as "the angel Raphael, one of the seven, who stand before the Lord." (Tobit 12:15)  Here, then, is the full text of this beautiful prayer to St. Raphael that meant so much to Flannery:
O Raphael, lead us toward those we are waiting for, those who are waiting for us: Raphael, Angel of happy meeting, lead us by the hand toward those we are looking for.  May all our movements be guided by your Light and transfigured by your joy.
Angel, guide of Tobias, lay the request we now address to you at the feet of Him on whose unveiled Face you are privileged to gaze.  Lonely and tired, crushed by the separations and sorrows of life, we feel the need of calling you and of pleading for the protection of your wings, so that we may not be as strangers in the province of joy, all ignorant of the concerns of our country.  Remember the weak, you who are strong, you whose home lies beyond the region of thunder, in a land that is always peaceful, always serene and bright with the resplendent glory of God.
- Mark

Tree Trimming

Regular visitors to Andalusia will notice that there is more sunlight flooding the front yard.  This is because last week we had a number of our venerable oak trees trimmed to insure their ongoing vitality.  The work - which took two days -  will not only benefit the trees, which we hope will be around for many more years, but also the front lawn. More light should encourage the grass to grow.  From an aesthetic standpoint, the work we had done makes the place look more open and airy, more like it was when the O'Connors were living at Andalusia.  Look some time at vintage photos of the farm and you will see what I mean.
- Mark

Carrying the Torch

From time to time in this blog I have cited some modern writers who I believe carry on Flannery O'Connor's legacy. Among those who have been influenced by her and could be considered her literary heirs are Barbara Kingsolver, Louise Erdrich, and Cormac McCarthy.  This week Craig said that he saw an article online that makes the case for Marilynne Robinson.  That caught my attention because I am presently reading her first novel, Housekeeping.  Do a Google search sometime with Flannery O'Connor and Marilynne Robinson and you will find a slew of articles comparing and contrasting the two authors.  Unlike some of the writers mentioned above, however,  Marilynne Robinson acknowledges no indebtedness to O'Connor.  In fact, she has been critical of O'Connor for Flannery's less than serious approach to her subject matter.  Robinson claims "the influence of Flannery O'Connor has been particularly destructive" by leading readers not to expect "serious fiction to treat religious thought respectfully." (Robinson, "A World of Beautiful Souls")  While their style and approach may differ, Robinson's and O'Connor's thematic concerns are similar enough to invite comparison.  So what do you all think?  Does Marilynne Robinson follow in Flannery's footsteps?  Does she carry the O'Connor torch in the 21st century?  However one answers those questions, I do think Robinson's work, meager as it is in terms of quantity (3 novels in 33 years), will, like Flannery's, stand the test of time.
- Mark

Kierkegaard's Kin?

Last Sunday marked the 200th anniversary of the birth of one my all-time favorite guys, Soren Kierkegaard.  Considering the incalculable influence he has had on modern thought, it is surprising that scarcely a word about his bicentenary appeared in the press.  Thinkers as diverse as Nietzsche, Sartre, Camus, and Heidegger were influenced by him, as were many modern and post-modern fiction writers.  Indeed, a work such as Wise Blood would have been impossible without Kierkegaard.  Though Flannery O'Connor disavowed any literary kinship to the great Dane, she did read him.  In fact, in a letter to Betty Hester (see The Habit of Being p. 273) it can be inferred that she even found Fear and Trembling intellectually stimulating.  While O'Connor may have wanted her audience to think that Thomas Aquinas was her literary and spiritual north star, the truth of the matter is others such as Kierkegaard were more important in her development as an artist.  It is curious how Flannery could deny his influence given the fact that she loved Dostoevsky, a writer whose novels are literary counterparts to the works of the philosopher, theologian, mystic (it's so hard to put a label on him!) from Copenhagen.  At the very least, both writers shared a common fate of not being understood in their lifetimes.  Flannery once quipped that she could wait a hundred years to be understood, and while she may not have had to wait that long, poor Kierkegaard did. 
- Mark

Waiting Room Dramas

This week I started Louise Erdrich's novel, The Round House.  Though I am only in the fourth chapter, I was struck by how reminiscent one of the book's opening scenes is to the doctor's waiting room in "Revelation."  Though in Erdrich's novel the scene is not as pivotal as it is in Flannery's story, there is a character in it who is every bit as judgmental and bigoted as Ruby Turpin.  To set the stage, 13-year-old Joe, whose mother has just been rushed to the hospital after being raped, is ushered into a hospital waiting room.  In there he sees a skinny pregnant woman and an older woman who is knitting the thumb of a mitten.  The pregnant woman looks up from her People magazine with Cher on the cover and speaks to Joe. 

"Don't you Indians have your own hospital over there?  Aren't you building a new one?
The emergency room's under construction, I told her.
Still, she said.
Still what?  I made my voice grating and sarcastic."
The skinny pregnant woman resumes her reading.  Before long she looks up and speaks to the knitting lady.
"Looked like that poor woman had a miscarriage or maybe - her voice went sly - a rape.
The woman's lip lifted up off her rabbit teeth as she looked at me.  Her ratty yellow hair quivered.  I looked right back, into her lashless hazel eyes.  Then I did something odd by instinct.  I went over and took the magazine out of her hands.  Still staring at her, I tore off the cover and dropped the rest of the magazine.  I ripped again.  Cher's identical eyebrows parted.  The lady who was knitting pursed her lips, counting stitches.  I gave the cover back and the woman accepted the pieces." (The Round House - pp. 8-9)

Though Joe's actions are not as violent or out of control as Mary Grace's, there are connections to the O'Connor story - intended or not.  Louise Erdrich is one of our most gifted writers and, while she has other aims in her fiction than O'Connor, I just wonder if maybe this isn't a little homage to Flannery that she tucked into the narrative.
- Mark

Under the Big Top

Lest visitors to Andalusia today get the impression that the brothers Ringling have taken up residence, let me assure you that the circus tent pitched behind the main house (which takes up practically our entire parking area), is for the reception we're hosting this evening for the Georgia Trust for Historic Preservation.  Their Spring Ramble and annual meeting are being held in Milledgeville this year and we're honored that they've chosen to have the Friday evening buffet in this bucolic setting.  With an anticipated 450 visitors, it promises to be the largest event ever held at Andalusia.  Prior to these shindigs, there will be an awards ceremony in the Legislative Chambers of the Old Capitol Building at Georgia Military College at which the Flannery O'Connor-Andalusia Foundation will be receiving an award for the restoration of the Hill House.  Accepting the award for the Foundation will be our Executive Director, Craig Amason.
- Mark

No Georgia Kafka?

Flannery O'Connor claimed that she hadn't even heard of, much less, read Franz Kafka until she went to graduate school at the University of Iowa.  "When I went to Iowa I had never heard of Faulkner, Kafka, Joyce, much less read them." (Collected Works p. 950).  Perhaps Flannery was trying to point out the deficiency of her literary education, but the truth of the matter is that O'Connor did read Joyce and Faulkner with enthusiasm while she was at GSCW (and some of her earliest stories show their influence).  I wouldn't be a bit surprised if she hadn't read Kafka, too, before she got to Iowa.  One can certainly find literary parallels in her work and that of the great Czech author.  Caroline Gordon certainly did.  In a blurb on the dust jacket to the first edition of Wise Blood, Gordon compares the novel favorably to the absurdest fables of Kafka: "Her picture of the modern world is literally terrifying.  Kafka is almost the only one of our contemporaries who has achieved such effects." Flannery was not flattered. She claimed she wasn't able to get through The Trial and The Castle.  She once told a class at GSCW that she was "distressed" that others thought she shared the intellectual pessimism of an existentialist like Kafka.  (see Brad Gooch Flannery: A Life of Flannery O'Connor - p. 204).  In a more pointed remark to her friend Ashley Brown she exasperatedly exclaimed, "I'm no Georgia Kafka." (Collected Works p. 911).  I beg to differ.  As is often the case with O'Connor, it is the writers she says she hates (e.g. Erskine Caldwell, Carson McCullers) that have influenced her more than she is willing to admit.
- Mark

Thank you, Mark

Readers of this blog know that our Visitors Services Manager, Mark Jurgensen, is the person responsible for posting here, and he comes up with all the content.  However, I thought I would take advantage of the time while Mark is away on a short vacation (he published a post yesterday before he left) to express my appreciation for all he does at Andalusia.  After a few months of volunteering for the Foundation, Mark began his employment here in October, 2009.  I cannot express how grateful I was and am to the Foundation Board of Directors for making the move to hire Mark as a part-time staff member.  A fairly new reader of Flannery O'Connor when he was hired, Mark completely immersed himself into the author's world, carefully studying her fiction and extensively exploring criticism of her work.  He spent months going over materials I provided for him, and he read the most recent biography of O'Connor by Brad Gooch twice.  He memorized the docent script I provided and soon began to enhance it with his own insights, always taking great care to be accurate and respectful about O'Connor's life and literature.  Within a short time, Mark began giving almost all the tours to our visitors, and though he doesn't like me to say this, he actually gives a better tour than I do.  He also does a marvelous job of managing our gift shop, ensuring that it is well stocked and letting me know when inventories are running low.

In addition to embracing the job as our primary docent, Mark volunteered to assume a crucial chore at Andalusia: taking care of the peafowl.  He cleans out the aviary EVERY DAY that he works.  He makes sure the birds have plenty of food and water, and thankfully, he reminds me to do the same when he is going to be away.  He buys treats for them, and they are so relaxed around Mark that the birds will eat spinach leaves right out of his hand.  Another of Mark's responsibilities that is vital to our success at Andalusia is maintaining the Foundation's donor database, from which we generate mailing lists for annual appeal letters and the Friends of Andalusia newsletter.  If I were to describe all the many ways that Mark has contributed to the Foundation's success at Andalusia, this post would not be in keeping with the succinct and readable entries his readers have come to expect.  The icing on the cake is the fact that Mark's wife, Judy, is always so generous as a volunteer and makes some of the best refreshments you'll find at any reception, anywhere! 

From proofing written materials to moving furniture, from answering inquiries from around the world to sweeping the front porch, Mark never complains about the all-encompassing line in most job descriptions, "related duties as required."  Forgive me for treading on your blog turf, Mark, but I just want everyone to know how grateful I am for your hard work and dedication to Flannery O'Connor and the Foundation's mission at Andalusia.

--Craig Amason, Executive Director

Hold the Icing

Having recently finished Heather King's fine book on St. Therese of Lisieux, I wondered what Flannery thought of the "Little Flower."  Given O'Connor's aversion to the cloying and the sentimental, I wouldn't have been at all surprised if she dismissed Therese simply because most biographies of the saint, who died in 1897 at the age of 24, are unbearably saccharine.   Fortunately, there are exceptions, such as a book on Therese that Flannery had the good fortune to read in 1956.  In a letter to her spiritual director and confessor, Fr. John McCown, she writes "I have just read a very funny book by a priest named Fr. Robo - on St. Theresa Lisieux [sic].  It's called Two Portraits of St. Theresa.  He has managed (by some not entirely crooked means) to get hold of a photograph of her that the Carmelites have not 'touched up' which shows her to be a round-faced, determined, rather comical-looking girl.  He does away with all the roses, little flowers, and other icing.  The book has greatly increased my devotion to her." (The Habit of Being p. 135).  Thanks to the work of people like Fr. Robo and more recent studies by folks such as Heather King, we now have a truer picture of the saint, so different from the idealized statues one sees of her in many Catholic churches.
- Mark

Duck Duds

I don't know if Flannery O'Connor ever had a duck named "Donald," but she kept a small flock of them and, following in her seamstress mother's footsteps, even made clothes for them.  Yes, Flannery was a rare - some might say odd - bird, indeed!  In a home economics class she was taking at Peabody High School, the students were assigned a sewing project.  While most of her classmates went to work right away designing aprons and the like, Flannery procrastinated.  During class time she sat off to the side appearing to be not the least bit interested in what the others were doing.  Finally, the day came when the students were to present and display the various garments they made during the quarter.  According to a fellow student who was there, "On the appointed day Flannery arrived with her pet duckling, and a whole outfit of underwear and clothes, beautifully sewn to fit the duck!  The class in great glee all gathered round and helped dress the duck.  Flannery successfully passed the course."  (see Brad Gooch's Flannery: A Life of Flannery O'Connor pp. 77-78)
- Mark

Flannery's Prayers

Surely some of the best selling items we've carried in the Andalusia gift shop over the years have been books about Flannery O'Connor's spirituality - titles such as Flannery O'Connor: Spiritual Writings (currently out of stock) and The Province of Joy: Praying with Flannery O'Connor, edited by Angela Alaimo O'Donnell.  Visitors ask us fairly frequently about O'Connor's spiritual practices.  Being the devout Catholic she was, Flannery's prayer life was pretty structured.  She prayed portions of the daily office (a replica of her breviary is on the bedside table in her room), did sacred reading ("lectio divina") of the Bible, Thomas Aquinas, etc., and participated in the liturgical life of the Catholic Church through daily mass attendance.  By temperament and personality, she was not drawn to less structured forms of prayer.  However, during the time she was at the University of Iowa in graduate school, O'Connor kept a prayer journal.  The prayers in this book contain some of her most personal devotional writings.  I'm very excited to announce that on November 12th, Farrar, Straus and Giroux will be releasing this journal edited by her friend Bill Sessions.  For a sneak peak click on this link.  While you're there, see if you can spot Flannery in the group photo that was taken with Pope Pius XII during her trip to Europe in 1958. 
- Mark

Walk of Glory

In 1999 the Iowa City Public Art Advisory Committee came up with a great idea to honor the writers - and there are a bunch of them - that are either from Iowa or have connections to the state.  The resulting  Iowa City Literary Walk consists of a series of bronze relief panels by artist Gregg LeFevre that feature quotes from the literary notables.  These panels are set in the pavement along both sides of Iowa Avenue from Clinton Street to Gilbert Street.  Of primary interest to readers of this blog is the one honoring Flannery O'Connor, who lived in the state from 1945-48 while she was in graduate school at the University of Iowa.  We thank Iowa City resident and author, Larry Baker, for sending us this photo of Flannery's panel.  Speaking of walks of glory, I came across a compelling interpretation of O'Connor's story "Revelation" by Kathleen Mulhern.  While I don't usually get into literary criticism on this blog, I think  "Loving Mrs. Turpin, Loving the Grotesque" is worthwhile, especially for those who don't understand why Flannery dealt in the grotesque and why it occupies such a prominent place in her fiction.
- Mark