My Reading Life: The Cloister Walk (Norris)

 The Cloister Walk followed my reading of In This House of Brede (here) to blend and bond this new introduction of monastic life to my understanding. While one is fiction, the other is reality.

I’m not sure how I came to be interested in this book, but I’d say it had to do with the image the word cloister brought to my mind – walking the cloister of Salisbury Cathedral in 2012. Even amidst throngs of others visiting the cathedral that day, there still existed a quietness, a solemnity, even a solitude in the cloister. The architectural effect of the hard, ancient stones under foot and over head, offered coolness and shade, while the carved curves of the vertical stones became the windows of creation beauty of the landscaped green. Thus I embarked upon The Cloister Walk.

A good synopsis of The Cloister Walk is from the back book cover:

Part record of her time among the Benedictines, part meditation on various aspects of monastic life, The Cloister Walk demonstrates, from the rare perspective of someone who is both an insider and outsider, how immersion in the cloistered world– its liturgy, its ritual, its sense of community– can impart meaning to everyday events and deepen our secular lives. In this stirring and lyrical work, the monastery, often considered archaic or otherworldly, becomes immediate, accessible, and relevant to us, no matter what our faith may be.

The book was a bit draggy for me, but maybe that’s part of the point. Nevertheless, I marked several quotes that stood out to me.

“Benedict’s language and imagery come from the Bible, but he was someone who read the psalms every day – as Benedictines still do – something of the psalms’ emotional honesty, their grounding in the physical, rubbed off on him.”

This reminded me of a dear friend who regularly reads five of the Psalms a day. And then toward the end of the book, Norris says,

“One of the goals of monastic life is to let the psalms become so much a part of one’s consciousness that they surface unexpectedly, in respond to the circumstances of daily life. . . .  It is the aim of contemplative living, at least in the Christian mode, that you learn to recognize a blessing when you see one, and are able to respond to it with words that God has given you.”

I’ve long used the word “intentional” about many things I do, and I think I should add the word “contemplative” also.

I remember when I was a 9-10 year old, how our grocery had, at most, three three-foot shelves of cereal. And how today, the store aisle must be five 100 feet shelves bulging with different cereals. Not surprisingly, this thought stood out:

“ ‘How many kinds of cereals do we need, he asked, ‘in order to meet genuine health needs without falling into thoughtless consumerism?’ ”

And the quote of St. Augustine was delightful:

“Let us sing now, not in order to enjoy a life of leisure, but in order to lighten your labors. You should sing as wayfarers do – sing, but continue your journey. Do not be lazy, but sing to make your journey enjoyable. Sing, but keep going.”

Later, Norris shares

“I know from my limited experience of singing chant that it fosters faith; I believe better and more thoroughly when I’m singing it. . . .The flow of Gregorian music reminds me of the pulse of ocean waves, steady and incessant, but never superfluous, a satisfying sound that my swell unpredictable before ebbing back into silence.”

And this:

“The sister compared the Liturgy of the Hours to housework, as repetitive work that is never done, but work that Benedictines keep coming back to because it forms the individual person and also maintains the fabric of the community.”

My Reading Life: In This House of Brede (Godden)

This book had been on my list for several years, and when I finally found a copy of it, I took the plunge. As a Protestant, I had several misunderstandings and misconceptions regarding monasteries, and I knew virtually nothing of life in one. This book helped enlighten me.

I cannot say I enjoyed the book though, because I found it somewhat slow and tedious. Maybe the author was intentional with that, or maybe it was just me bringing my tiredness to my reading time. Either way, I was glad when I turned the last page.

In her introduction, Phyllis Tickle, whose many books I've read and enjoyed, says that  “In This House of Brede is probably the most accessible, accurate, and sympathetic presentation of monastic life in all of English literature.” And, "the stuff of our souls [are] identical . . . to that of every other follower of the Christ.  We are all vowed, and we forget that to our own peril." How true. How often we forget.

This quote stood out to me also:  "[I]n religion a different year revolves within the natural one, the seasons making a background for it."

I have long been drawn to the traditional, formal structure of liturgical worship. An established liturgy binds together worshipers, and through participation in these common beliefs, lends power, depth, inspiration. Because of this, I found this next very short quote profound. Referring to the liturgy, Abbess Catherine says, "It is splendid. That is the blessing of the liturgy, it wipes out self."

My liturgical persuasion embraces both the Apostles and the Nicene Creeds. These are some of those ancient words that Dame Perpetua speaks about: "The church has got blood poisoning, and I think because it has lost the disinfectant of the Creed" referring to the Nicene Creed which had been used daily but now only at Sunday Mass.

I rated this book 2 stars / It was Ok (according to the Goodreads rating system), but upon finishing my thoughts about the book, I upped it one because I think the book tipped me more in its favor than not.

3 stars / I liked it (Goodreads rating system)

My Reading Life: Snapped in Cornwall (Boeitho)

This mystery ended up on my winter list after my sister wanted me to do a reading challenge with her. One of the challenges is to read a book whose author has your first name. Not many authors have my first name. When I first searched at Amazon, one name came up with plenteous books, but I wasn’t about to read any of those! (Today when I search, such an alternate group of books appear than before. Showing up now is a Janie DeVos, a women's southern fiction writer. I might need to look into her books.)  Searching a bit more, I found this first of a series. 

Such a short mystery took me much longer to finish than anticipated, probably because it was a bit predictable and simple, and I wasn't motivated to press on.

I've always enjoyed reading works set in England, and Cornwall is a picturesque favorite. In fact, the cover of my edition is inviting. I also enjoy learning, rather, trying to remember, the local lingo. Early in the book, the protagonist Rose fixes a "doorstep sandwich" containing cheese and salad. Unfamiliar with what a doorstep sandwich is, I coveted one when I found out. More or less simple, it is thick cut farm bread with meat and / or cheese topped with lettuce and tomato. Sounds much like our sub sandwiches, but when you think of "thick cut farm bread" . . . well, oh, yum! Doorstep sandwiches would make a filling lunch. Called doorstep, it is because the bread is cut as thick as a doorstep.

Beside the sandwich curiosity, I marked one word I was not familiar with: "soughed." A slight breeze lifted her hair and soughed through the grasses behind her. Pronounced sou, it means to moan, murmur, or rustle.

2 stars / It was okay by Goodreads system