Recently, I came upon two essays by the Catholic novelist, Valerie Sayers. Both deal with topics that have fascinated me for years.
I became interested in what I call a “Catholic novel” when I was a senior at Xavier H.S., Manhattan. My English teacher, Father Vincent Taylor, S.J., had the class read the novel, “Brighton Rock,” by Graham Greene. Reading the novel was a life-changing experience. I had never read anything like it – a story of a 17-year-old killer that is filled with Catholic meaning. The novel started me on a journey through the novels of Greene, Evelyn Waugh, Francois Mauriac, Ron Hansen, Walker Percy, Alice McDermott, Mary Gordon, Valerie Sayers and others.
One of the two essays includes comments that Sayers made when she was on a panel with author Alice McDermott. The event was sponsored by Commonweal magazine. The other essay is titled “Being a Writer, Being Catholic.”
Asked and Answered
In her comments on the panel, Sayers structured her talk like a catechism: She posed some questions to which she offered answers. Reading it I was reminded of an amusing and insightful interview in which Walker Percy was both the interviewer and the interviewee. Percy claimed that interviewers often asked the wrong questions and so he decided to interview himself.
Percy’s interview and Sayers’ imitation of a catechism’s questions and answers are both witty and profound.
The following is a sample of Sayers’ questions and answers:
“Q. What is the duty of the religious fiction writer?
“A. The duty of the religious fiction writer is to write good fiction.
“Q. But don’t fiction writers who proclaim religious belief have a duty to infuse their fiction with that belief?
“A. Fiction writers of any belief have the duty to regard narrative as a glorious and mysterious gift, a gift like grace that sometimes arrives unbidden and sometimes has to be begged. The best fiction surprises the writer as much as it surprises the reader, so fiction that starts out with the desire to make a statement – whether that statement is theological or political or sociological is almost always doomed to artistic failure. God made essays, op-eds, and blogs for statements. Fiction is for revelations of a far more complicated nature…
“Q. Doesn’t a religious sensibility inform a writer’s sensibility?
“A. Sure. Of course. You bet. All writers are guided by some kind of moral vision, whether that perspective is skewed or not, whether it is religious or not … Good fiction sneaks up on us. It shakes us, or prods us, or stirs us, whether we are writing it or reading it. It reveals, it uncovers something heretofore hidden in some little corner of this physical, psychological, intellectual, emotional, and yes, spiritual world we live in. Art’s job is to ‘disturb’ us. …”
I think the best Catholic novelists are concerned that their novels do not slip into proselytizing or become little more than lengthy homilies. They are determined to create genuine works of art. Proselytizing and preaching do not make for good art.
Percy first appeared in print by writing scholarly essays for scholarly magazines. He wanted to reach a larger audience and so he decided to write novels. He wrote six and avoided proselytizing or preaching. Each novel is a genuine work of art. I think Sayers is correct in claiming that every writer is guided by some kind of moral vision but if that vision appears in the work of art, it must contribute to the art’s quality and not slip into moralizing.
Disturbed by Art
I love the idea that art should disturb us. I believe that great art can take us where we have not been and can help us to broaden and deepen our horizons.
One of the most enriching intellectual experiences in my life centered around the meaning of art. In our last year of college as seminary students members of my class were assigned the task of writing a philosophical thesis. I worked with two classmates, one of whom is now Father Charles Matonti. I don’t know how many hours Father Matonti and I talked about the meaning and mystery of art. We talked, then wrote, and then talked some more and then re-wrote. Though it was a difficult topic, I gained insights from Father Matonti that have stayed with me for close to 60 years and that I have tried to pass onto my students at St. John’s University.
Great art can change us. Reading great Catholic literature can provide special blessings.
