A Canticle for Leibowitz

[Bama-N-DC]

I started reading ACFL last night. I must admit is has me enthralled. I can tell that this book will challenge me in my Catholic faith as well as give me some new perspectives on language and oral history. I will have some real commentary later, but wanted to get the ball rolling.

Bama-N-DC

William Lamey
President, GALABAMA DC

 

[LTBF]

You have made me want to rush right out and get a copy of ACFL. One good thing this board had done is encourage me to read things I might not otherwise have picked up.

I am kind of tied up right now with a book on the Eastern Front in WWII, but will have to start this one, too, as soon as I can find it at the library.

Thanks for the endorsement!

ROLL TIDE FOREVER!

 

[BamaCLM]

I have finished the Fiat Homo and am starting the Fiat Lux. It certainly makes you think about the saints and how they became saints. Things become distorted with long passages of time, as this portion of the book shows clearly. Perhaps I should wait until I finish the whole book before I make any conclusions though. But I find it facinating to be intimate with the thought processes of a truly religious.

 

[LTBF]

I went to the library today and ordered ACFL from another branch. If I hadn't already done that, I would click on the link that Brett has posted, and order it.

ROLL TIDE FOREVER!

 

[bobstod]

I'm just getting started in ACFL, but it soon becomes apparent that Catholicism is a subject, and probably a target. I wish Foley High School had had a latin program when I went to school!

Bill, thanks for getting a post started! I'm really thrilled that this little experiment has blossomed into a great site for thoughtful discussion of good books, and that it has attracted such talented and intelligent people!

It looks like ACFL might prove to be a good choice for us.

------------------
ALABAMA: Tradition; Class; A name to respect in College Football

 

[Ratatosk]

Just finished Fiat Homo and would like to venture a few random thoughts without trying to organize them just yet.

As far as I know, only Fiat Homo is not a direct quote from the Bible. Fiat Lux occurs in Genesis 1:3:

dixitque Deus
fiat lux et facta est lux

God said
let there be light and there was light

Fiat Voluntas Tua is from Mathew 6:9-13:

9 Pater noster
qui in caelis es
Sanctificetur nomen tuum
10 adveniat regnum tuum
fiat voluntas tua
sicut in caelo et in terra
11 panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie
12 et dimitte nobis debita nostra
sicut et nos dimittimus debtoribus nostris
13 et ne nos inducas in tentationem
sed libera nos a malo

9 our Father
who art in heaven
hallowed be thy name
10 thy kingdom come
thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven
11 give us this day our daily bread
12 and forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those who trespass against us
13 and lead us not into temptation
but deliver us from evil

Fiat Homo begins and ends with Brother Francis, the wanderer and the buzzards.

Brother Francis is destined become a humble monk who will spend his life preserving knowledge in a time that doesn’t value knowledge for an unknown future that may not want it or may abuse it.

The pilgrim can be none other than the Wandering Jew. Although there is no basis for it in the Bible, the story of the Wandering Jew first made its appearance in the middle ages. The story goes (roughly) that a man who mocked Christ on his way to Golgotha was told by Christ “I will go now, but you will be waiting when I return.” The Wandering Jew is condemned to wander the earth, never having a home and unable to die until Christ returns.

Buzzards are not evil birds, but their presence is a sign of death. Bountiful food for them means many deaths.

To add further symmetry to the beginning/ending of Fiat Homo, when he first sees the wanderer “Brother Francis added a hasty prayer to Saint Raul the Cyclopean, patron of the misborn, for protection against the Saint’s unhappy protégés.” It is those unhappy protégés (the Pope’s children) who kill Brother Francis.

The pilgrim quickly establishes his Jewishness when he unwraps his food: “Blest be Adonoi Elohim, King of All, who maketh bread to spring from the earth,” and affirms it later when he uses two Hebrew letters to mark a stone for Francis. But he understands Christianity. He is quick to apprehend that Francis is from the Leibowitz Abbey. When Francis writes “Et ne nos inducas in …” (Mathew 6:13) he says “I’ve not offered to change stones into bread yet, have I?” referring, I believe, to Mathew 4:3.

Et accedens temptator dixit ei
Si filius Dei es dic ut lapides isti panes fiant

And the Tempter coming to him said
If thou be the Son of God command that these stones be made bread.

In the end, it is this wanderer who finds Francis, saves his body from the buzzards, and buries him. The small circle of Francis’ life is closed. But the Church that Francis was only a small part of will endure. And generations of Francises will be there for it.

The Church is preserving the knowledge the world once owned until the world is again ready to accept it, but the glue that holds the Church together is the blood of the glorious martyrs like Saint Leibowitz and the blood of the humble martyrs like Brother Francis.

 

[bobstod]

Great post, tosk! I agree with the 'wandering Jew' idea. He reveals his jewishness in another way, too. He says something to the effect of "...you are still writing backwards". Hebrew is written right to left, so latin and English would be backwards to a Jew.

The three parts of this book were written separately as short stories, and meant to stand alone. Miller revised them quite a bit when putting them together in novel form.

"Fiat Homo" does portray a historical perception of the Dark Ages of central Europe, when, "...after the fall of the Roman Empire, knowledge was preserved in Western Europe almost exclusively in small, isolated communities of priests and monks during a centuries-long dark age, recopied by men who often understood little of the ancient manuscripts of which they were the custodians."

This view of history, although still taught, and widely believed in English-speaking countries, is narrow in the extreme. Moorish Spain was a center of culture and learning from the 900s to the 1400s; the great library at Alexandria contained virtually all the western world's written knowledge; and in the far east there was a golden age of poetry, art, and scientific discovery. The "Dark Ages" were real enough for people in western and central Europe, but worldwide, learning was progressing at a steady pace.

Nevertheless, the basic idea that small, isolated, and otherwise ignorant societies of monks were engaged in preserving knowledge, when virtually everyone else was at a survival level and illiterate, is accurate enough for the great majority of our ancestors, whose progeny came to America.

I learned something I didn't know when doing some research on the latin phrases in ACFL. Beelzebub, which we have come to recognize as another name for Satan, was originally a Jewish pun, taken from the god Baazebul, which meant "Lord of lords". Beelzebub means "Lord of the Flies", and was the source for the title of the book by that name.

One more thing you may not know. Miller committed suicide before completing the sequel to ACFL, titled Leibowitz and the Wild Horse Woman. He had lost faith with Catholicism (otherwise, how suicide?). The book was completed by others, and is strongly anti-catholic, from what I read. I haven't read it myself.


------------------
ALABAMA: Tradition; Class; A name to respect in College Football

 

[Ratatosk]

bobstod,
After you mentioned Saint Leibowitz and the Wild Horse Woman I went to Amazon and looked for it. I think I'll skip this one. Most of the reviews were very negative. Miller wasn't able to finish the book himself. Apparently the book is disorganized and directionless, without the philosophical insight or rich symbolism of ACFL. I guess that shouldn't be a suprise. It's easier to write about something you passionately believe in than about something that has disappointed you. Maybe Miller only had one good book in him and that was ACFL.

Although ACFL's view of history is modeled on Europe's dark ages, it is appropriate for its time(our distant future). In the time of ACFL, nothing escaped the flame deluge. Continents and even large geographic regions on single continents lost touch with each other. The entire world was reduced to the state of Europe in the Dark Ages.

Of course the accidental destruction of the Royal Library in Alexandria by Caesar in 48 BC was unfortunate. But the destruction of the daughter library in A.D. 391 when the Emperor Theodisius ordained the destruction of all pagan temples was an even greater loss to western civilization. Sic transit gloria mundi.

 

[LTBF]

I hesitate to respond to this thread, since I have not obtained the book yet, and so have not begun reading it.

However, I would like to comment on several points as they relate to othe things I have read recently, or in the past:

1) Beelzebub was indeed the "god of death" in The Lord of the Flies. In the insane ravings of one of the tormented and demented boys on the island, the obscene pig's head covered with huge black flies WAS the god of death.

2) How the Irish Saved Civilization dealt with Europe during the Dark Ages, and while it is true that there were flourishing civilizations in other parts of the world, ie, the Arab world, China, etc., the learning of the Greeks and Romans, as well as the teachings of the Bible, may well have been lost forever without these brave Monks and other religious who established outposts where they "saved" Western civilization as we know it today.

3) The idea of stones as they relate to Jewishness. It is not only the idea that stones might (or might not) be turned into bread, but the burial customs of Jewish people that perhaps is relevant here. In the desert, stones covered the graves to protect the body from scavengers. This idea has been expanded to the idea of showing respect by leaving stones on the graves of Jewish dead. Recall in Schindler's List how the families of the people Schindler had saved returned to his grave and each placed a stone there as a mark of his or her respect.

If I don't get a call from the library by tomorrow, I am going to order ACFL. I am getting far behind.

ROLL TIDE FOREVER!

[This message has been edited by LTBF (edited June 29, 2001).]

 

[bobstod]

I have just finished Fiat Lux, and I am beginning to ponder what the thrust of this work might be.

In Fiat Homo, (let there be man), the word has been almost totally destroyed because men were given knowledge beyond their ability to control. Then the Order of Leibowitz is founded to preserve what knowledge remains.

In Fiat Lux (let there be light), this knowledge is, after centuries, brought to light and seems inevitably destined to fall into the hands of ignorant and unscroupulous people.

In the next-to-last chapter, the author, through the eyes of the abbot Dom Paulo, seems to be stating a very anti-intellectual, anti-science position: "The answer was near at hand; there was still the serpent whispering:For God doth know that in what day soever you shall eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened: and you shall be as Gods. The old father of lies was clever at telling half-truths; How shall you 'know' good and evil, until you shall have sampled a little? Taste and be as Gods. But niether infinite power nor infinite wisdom could bestow godhhod upon men. For that there would have to be infinite love as well."

I'm confused! Is it the message of this book that man is incapable of enough wisdom to handle knowledge? Are we to take from this that the original sin in the Garden of Eden (the taste of the fruit of the forbidden tree), is an edict for mankind forever? That man should forsake science altogether, and leave all fruits of accumulated knowledge behind, devoting all energy to the worship of God and prayers for salvation?

If so, why did they preserve the knowledge in the first place, and why does Dom Paulo pledge to continue doing so?

And what is the significance of the uncharacteristic, selfless act by the poet at the end? He is consistently shown to be a sardonic observer of human foibles and illogicalities. He remains remote from the people he observes, pointing out their foolish inconsistencies and their humanity as weaknesses. He then gives his life in a totally human way, by striking out at cruelty and injustice against hopeless odds.

Up to that point I had fallen into just enjoying the book as a story. Suddenly, I was jerked back into trying to discern the author's message, and I'm having a hard time with it.

Maybe Fiat Voluntas Tua (Thy will be done) will clarify matters for me.

Anybody got comments? Help?

------------------
ALABAMA: Tradition; Class; A name to respect in College Football



[This message has been edited by bobstod (edited June 29, 2001).]

 

[Ratatosk]

Fiat Lux

Buzzards remain the symbol of death.

Early in the beginning of Fiat Lux, a conversation between Marcus Apollo and the scholar Thon Taddeo sets the stage for the question that has to be answered.

The scholar calls Marcus Apollo to the window to see a peasant leading a donkey. "Look at him!" the scholar persisted. "...Illiterate, superstitious, murderous. He diseases his children. For a few coins he would kill them... Look at him, and tell me if you see the progeny of a once-mighty civilization? What do you see?"

"The image of Christ," grated the monsignor, surprised at his own sudden anger. "What did you expect me to see?"

The scholar huffed impatiently. "The incongruity...I can't accept it. How can a great and wise civilization have destroyed itself so completely?"

"Perhaps," said Apollo, "by being materially great and materially wise, and nothing else."...

"Perhaps," said Thon Taddeo, "but I doubt it."

Both men are uneasy. They sense their civilization is on the verge of a new renaissance. Thon Taddeo is eager. Marcus Apollo is fearful.

Question: Who will inherit this new and ancient knowledge: Man, in the image of Christ, or Man, in the image of the brute? The children of God or the children of the world?

At the Leibowitz abbey, Dom Paulo has the same reservations as Marcus Apollo but he is actively assisting in the birth of the new renaissance. He forces Brother Armbruster to remove a crucifix from the archway of the alcove Thon Taddeo will be using so it can be replaced with Brother Kornhoer's new lamp made with the ancient technology gleaned from the abbey's archives.

'"You'd make our Lord move over to make room for progress!"
'"Brother Armbruster!"
'"Why don't you just hang the witch-light around His neck?" ...

'Dom Paulo glanced up at the Christ of the rood in the archway. Do you mind? he wondered.'
...
"The abbot fanned himself with a fan of buzzard feathers..." Dom Paulo is dying, but he is holding on. Soon he will be replaced with a new abbot and soon his old "Age of Faith" will be replaced with a new "Age of Reason." Secular scholars like Thon Taddeo will replace monks as the new keepers of knowledge. History moves slowly, but like a glacier, it grinds down anything in its path.

Paulo then visits the old hermit Benjamin who seems to be slipping back and forth between several identities and sometimes trying to be all of them at the same time. The meeting between the two old friends is both tender and comic.

During their conversation Paulo says to him:
"I hear you've been throwing rocks at the novices who come hereabouts for their Lenten fast in the desert. Can this be true?" ...

"Now, now, Paulo. One of them mistook me for a relative of mine--name of Leibowitz...Hah! I'll not be mistaken for that kinsman again, for he stopped being any kin of mine."

(He is referring, of course, to the fact that that Leibowitz became a Catholic and founded the Albertian Order of Leibowitz.)

"That was during my earlier career, of course," the Old Jew went on, "and perhaps such a mistake was understandable."
"Earlier career?"
"Wanderer"

Again, the theme of the Wandering Jew.

"Still waiting, Old Jew?"
"Certainly!" the hermit snapped.

As the conversation continues, Benjamin assumes another role.
"Benjamin--I am Paulo. Torquemada is dead. I was born seventy-odd years ago, and pretty soon I'll die. I have loved you old man, and when you look at me, I wish you would see Paulo of Pecos and no other."
Benjamin wavered for a moment. His eyes became moist. "I sometimes--forget--"
"And sometimes you forget that Benjamin is only Benjamin and not all of Israel."
"Never!" snapped the hermit, eyes blazing again. "For thirty-two centuries, I--" He stopped and closed his mouth tightly.
"Why?" the abbot whispered almost in awe. "Why do you take the burden of a people and its past upon yourself alone?"
The hermit's eyes flared a brief warning, but he swallowed a throaty sound and lowered his face into his hands.
"You fish in dark waters."
"Forgive me."
"The burden--it was pressed upon me by others," He looked up slowly. "Should I refuse to take it?"
...
But I, too, am a member of a oneness, thought Dom Paulo, a part of a congregation and a continuity...I am a Christian monk and priest, and am therefore, accountable before God for the actions and deeds of every monk and priest who has breathed and walked the earth since Christ, as well as for the acts of my own.
No, no.
And yet, Dom Paulo's own Faith told him that the burden was there, and had been since Adam's time...His own Faith told him too, that the burden had been lifted from him by the One whose image hung from a cross above the alters, although the burden's imprint was still there.

But Benjamin chides him that the cost of Christ is the Trinity:
"But you've always used words so wordily in crafty defense of your Trinity, although He never needed such defense before you got him from me as a Unity. Eh?"

(Both Jews and Muslims reject the concept of the Trinity. The Muslims are especially unyielding on this point. The Quran summarizes this argument in the following verses:

"God has not taken to Himself any son, nor is there any god with Him: For then each god would have taken of that which he created and some of them would have risen up over others." (23:91)
"And Why, were there gods in earth and heaven other than God, they (heaven and earth) would surely go to ruin." (21:22)

Hinduism of course has its own Trinity.)

Then they get down to the problem that is bothering Paulo.

"For twelve centuries we've been one little island in a very dark ocean. Keeping the Memorabilia has been a thankless task, but a hallowed one, we think...and it's hard to think that the job's soon to be finished..."

'Benjamin smirked. "I have no sympathy for you. The books you stored away may be hoary with age, but they were written by children of the world, and they'll be taken from you by children of the world, and you had no business meddling with them in the first place."'
"Ah, now you care to prophesy!"
"Not at all. 'Soon the sun will set'--is that prophesy? No, it's merely an assertion of faith in the consistency of events. The children of the world are consistent too--so I say they will soak up everything you can offer, take your job away from you, and then denounce you as a decrepit wreck. Finally, they'll ignore you entirely. It's your own fault. The Book I gave you should have been enough for you. Now you'll just have to take the consequences for your meddling"

Then another persona of Benjamin emerges.
"What a cheerful outlook! So what are you looking for?"
"Someone who shouted at me once."
"Shouted?"
"'Come fourth'"

This refers to John 11:43.
"And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth."

So Benjamin is Israel and the Wandering Jew and Lazarus and Benjamin. Benjamin is Everyman.

As Dom Paulo leaves Benjamin to ride back to the abbey he whispers "Momento, Domine, omnium famulorum tuorum," Remember, Lord, all thy servants. He and Benjamin are, each in his own way, servants of the same God.

The time of Dom Paulo and Benjamin and the monks at the abbey is fading. The children of the world have returned to claim their heritage. And they will again behave like children they are.

Everything that happens from then on is just as Benjamin predicted. Thon Taddeo takes the knowledge the abbey has saved, but he is not grateful. As he prepares to leave he talks with Dom Paulo.

"...Keep science cloistered, don't try to apply it, don't try to do anything about it until men are holy. Well, it won't work. You've been doing it here in this abbey for generations. "
"We haven't withheld anything."
"You haven't withheld it; but you sat on it so quietly, nobody knew it was here and you did nothing with it."
"...If you try to save wisdom until the world is wise, Father, the world will never have it."
"I can see the misunderstanding is basic!" the abbot said gruffly. "To serve God first, or to serve Hannegan first--that's your choice."
"I have little choice, then," answered the thon. "Would you have me work for the Church?" The scorn in his voice was unmistakable.

The Children of the world (instead of the children of God) are now the keepers of knowledge. "But neither infinite power or infinite wisdom could bestow godhood on men. For that there would have to be infinite love as well."

The blood of many innocents will be spilled to create the empires and nations of the future. The poet got caught with his cynicism down. He spent most of his life posing as a cynic, but underneath each cynic lies an uncompromising idealist. The slaughter of the refugees pushed him over the edge and he impulsive acted when his cynicism should have warned him to do nothing. He accomplished nothing--appropriate for a cynic. But 'great leaders' would continue to build greater empires as they provided an abundant supply of food for the buzzards. "The children of the world are consistent too."


(If you haven't started ACFL yet this is a meager summary of what you will find there)

 

[bobstod]

Tosk, a question. Thon Taddeo's Christian name is Pfardentrott. Can the obvious onomotopoetic similarity to "fart and trot" be coincidental? Is this a backhanded comment on the impermanent and shallow nature of the "children of Man"?

There are important questions raised in the last chapter; questions about the nature of knowledge, about the morality of euthanasia, and about the nature and universality of guilt. I want to address those question, textually and from a personal standpoint, but I want to allow some more time for others to catch up.

This book drew me along. I couldn't put it aside and wait for the group, it was too compelling. It was a good choice for us, I believe.

C'mon, Bill and Carolyn!

------------------
ALABAMA: Tradition; Class; A name to respect in College Football

 

[LTBF]

Well, I got the book yesterday morning, and I was delighted to see that it didn't have 1000 pages. When I began to read, I was delighted to see that it reads easily (on one level), flowing along nicely. I think I have one chapter left in "Fiat Homo."

I will have to do some thinking about this book before I can comment on it. It appeals to me on many levels, but as I became a Catholic AFTER the change over to English, my Latin is almost nonexistent. However, that doesn't seem to matter much. I understand enough to get by.

ROLL TIDE FOREVER!

 

[Ratatosk]

<font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2">Originally posted by bobstod:
Tosk, a question. Thon Taddeo's Christian name is Pfardentrott. Can the obvious onomotopoetic similarity to "fart and trot" be coincidental? Is this a backhanded comment on the impermanent and shallow nature of the "children of Man"?

</font>

While I wouldn't put any money on it, I don't think the names are meant to provide a commentary on anything other than perhaps that particular individual. Here are a few samples of name usage that seem to support that idea.

Arkos -- "...reminded Cheroki of a were-bear only incompletely changed into a man." Arktos is the ancient Greek word for bear.

Cheroki -- easily becomes Cherokee

Fingo -- Brother Fingo is a sport. Fingo in Latin can mean to alter or to change.

Sanly Bowitts -- The village of Sanly Bowitts sprang up on the site where Brother Francis found the Leibowitz memorabillia. Therefore: Sanly Bowitts = San Lybowitts = Saint Leibowitz



[This message has been edited by Ratatosk (edited July 02, 2001).]

 

[bobstod]

So what does that say about Thon Taddeo as an individual? He's not a sport, he's not a native American, he's not a bear-like person...hmmm.

Maybe he's no more significant to mankind than a fart in a whirlwind.

I can't help believing that this name is not a coincidence, nor is it a mistake. Every other name has significance.

------------------
ALABAMA: Tradition; Class; A name to respect in College Football

 

[LTBF]

I have about 35-40 pages left, and any specific comments will have to wait until I finish. Truthfully I have to say that science fiction is not my thing, and I am having a little bit of a problem getting a grasp on this book. I am beginning to, but have to finish it first.

However, I do agree that ALL the names have significance. I have not figured out what they all refer to, but they are so not-of-one-piece that they have to have been carefully crafted to carry meaning.

I agree also about Thon Taddeo's surname. And in terms of the book, as it has developed so far, he has had no more significance that breaking wind into a gale.

The parts that I have enjoyed most are the conversations between Benjamin, Lazarus, Lazar, the wandering Jew, or whatever you want to call him, and the people he converses with. These conversations are so full of vim and vigor and wit, that I love them.

It also strikes me that the most significant characters in the book all have Biblical names. Am I wrong about that?

Be back on this thread when I have finished. Then I will go back and finish Stalingrad, which I was enjoying, but which I totally abandoned once I started ACFL.

I still have Shakespeare: The Making of the Human, all 1000 pages of it, to go.

So let's decide soon what we want to tackle next, so I can arrange to take it to Chicago with me when I go on July 23. I surely cannot take Shakespeare with me!

ROLL TIDE FOREVER!

 

[bobstod]

LTBF, I know what you mean about science fiction, but this book is a classic, and I think deservedly so. I certainly found it compelling, and thought-provoking.

I'm not Catholic. In fact, I didn't grow up in any church at all, and only came to religion and spirituality in my fifties. So the Catholic preoccupation with guilt is only something I am aware of intellectually, through reading and osmosis, not viscerally, as must be true for those close to the Catholic faith.

I can appreciate the value, and even the functionality, of confession. It IS good for the soul, as they say. To have incorporated a method of cleansing the conscience into the daily or weekly ritual of their believers is, to me, one of the greatest accomplishments of the Catholic Church.

On the other hand, it seems to me that the subject of guilt is too much emphasized in Catholicism, as it is in many Protestant religions. (and among Jewish mothers...)

Original Sin appears to me to be no more that a tool to use for control of the flock.

In the final chapter of ACFL. Abbott Zerchi (hey tosk!, any origin on that name?) objects forcefully to the camp set up near his Abbey to euthanize the hopeless cases of radiation poisoning. He demands that the government official performing triage in his courtyard promise not to recommend euthanisia to the hopeless cases he sees.

The man goes as far as to promise, out of respect for the Abbot and his church, not to make such recommendation to anyone of Catholic faith; but this does not satisfy Abbot Zerchi.

When the man demands to know why others should be bound by principles of a faith not their own, the Abbot explains: "Because if a man is ignorant of the fact that something is wrong, and acts in ignorance, he incurs no guilt, provided natural reason was not enough to show him that it was wrong. But while ignorance may excuse the man, it does not excuse the act, which is wrong in itself. If I permitted the act simply because the man is ignorant that it is wrong, then I would incur guilt, because I do know it to be wrong. It is really that painfully simple."

I'm trying to apply this reasoning to the core question of this book, as I see it. If man is incapable of using knowledge without turning away from God, and therefore eventually destroying the world in nuclear fire, why is it a holy duty to preserve knowledge in the first place? That, after all, has been the sacred mission of the Order of Leibowitz for thousnds of years.

I can only conclude that knowledge is seen here as holy in and of itself; and that to allow it to be lost or destroyed is seen as a sin. No judgement is apparently made about USE of the knowledge so preserved. The sacred duty of the Order is merely to avoid the guilt they would incur if they knowingly allowed its destruction or loss.

The inescapable conclusion from these assmptions is that knowledge is preserved in HOPE that man may, at some time in the future, turn far enough away from sin to be capable of using knowledge without subsequent destruction. This is attested to by the entrusting of all the records of the order to Brother Joshua, and his preservation of them by means of an escape into the stars, where hope resides that mankind's seed will grow wiser and more Godlike.

At some point in his later life, Miller must have lost that capacity for hope. Death by suicide is a sin of the highest order in Catholicism, if I am not mistaken.

From my own experience, the loss of hope is the most devastating of experiences, and one that the human will opposes with a tenacity beyond understanding. In that fact lies, to me, the fundamental nature, and strongest argument, for the existence of God.

------------------
ALABAMA: Tradition; Class; A name to respect in College Football



[This message has been edited by bobstod (edited July 04, 2001).]

 

[LTBF]

This is a book that spoke to something in my core of being, and yet it is difficult for me to formulate my thoughts about it. I don't know why this is.

I saw that the book was first published as a series of short stories in 1955, and then gathered into book form in 1959, and I could not help but apply history to that fact. This was so close to Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the period when school children were taught to get under their desks and cover their heads with their hands and arms to protect themselves from "fallout." So it seems to have been the work of an angry man, trying to send out a warning about the danger of unbridled knowledge: unbridled by ethics or love or God, or whatever.

I loved the part in Fiat Homo when Brother Francis reveals that the monks believe that "Fallout" was some kind of monster, and he believed he had encountered a "shelter" for 15 "fallouts" in the bomb shelter. And this brings up the question of the dangers or fallacies of incomplete knowledge. All the first section seemed to be replete with examples of incomplete understanding.

And this kept bringing up in my mind the question of whether or not there was an Atlantis in sense the Plato describes. I know this is somewhat off the subject, and yet it isn't either. Most scholars, I think, take Plato's Atlantis with a grain of salt, and yet, what if this is another case of incomplete understanding? When fragments of the past come to light, how much of what we think we know is really incomplete understanding, or even worse, complete misunderstanding? This work does seem to emphasize the cyclical nature of history, or of time.

I was struck by the fact that the one thing that endured from the beginning of the book until the end was Faith. And while it was Catholic Faith that was emphasized throughout the book, it seems to me that that was because Miller was a Catholic, and because the Catholic faith extends back to the beginning of Christianity in an unbroken line, and in the book, on into the future in an unbroken line. My point is that it is FAITH, the faith of the human spirit, that survives from one holocaust to another, and not specifically the Catholic faith. It is the yearning of the human spirit to believe in something greater than itself. It is the timelessness of faith.

I think that is the answer to the actions of the Poet. He was cynical, yes, but he must have believed in something other than himself, else why would he have sacrificed himself so selflessly. And I thought it interesting that so near the end, it was the poetry of the Poet that the Abbot took with him to the tower, when the noise in the courtyard grew too great for him to stand.

And my understand of end time is that God will destroy the world. I have no understanding of Him allowing man to do His work for Him. What appears in the book would be a negation of that idea: God did apparently allow man, in his (man's) recklessness and foolishness, to destroy himself, excepting those who escaped in starships to colonize the planets of other stars. And herein lies complete faith, that mankind can make a new start, somewhere else in the universe, even after messing up everything on Earth.

And why did the Wandering Jew disappear with the end of "Fiat Lux"? Why is he not present in the third section? If he is to wander until Jesus comes again, how is that to be explained?

And who is Rachel? I take her to be the opposite of Original Sin; to be, in other words, pure innocence, blossoming as the old sin disappears. Is she the anima mundi of what is to arise from the ashes this time, if there is a "this time?"

Now, for someone who couldn't organize any coherent thoughts on this work, that is quite a lot of writing. I hope it IS coherent, at least to some extent.

And so I end with some words from my beloved Shakespeare: (from Cymbeline)

"Golden lads and girls all must
like chimney sweepers come to dust."

ROLL TIDE FOREVER!

 

[bobstod]

LTBF, I find it difficult to separate the concepts of hope and faith. Without hope, faith is impossible. Faith is hope for a better future, is it not? Faith is belief in the power of God, and God is goodness itself.'

What I'm saying is that I essentially agree with you. This book is about a holocaust, and a long resurrection followed by another holocaust; yet it is a hopeful book, and affirms the author's belief in God.

I think Rachael is the symbol of the new mankind, springing from the misshapen and deformed survivors of old mankind's sinful folly. Rachael's first act of conciousness is a refusal to accept an act of conditional baptism from the Abbott. Then, however, we come to understand that she needs no blessing from him: she performs an act of benediction, given to the Abbott, a man of the church, and of the old mankind. This is a statement that the new mankind will be closer to the faith, and will bring new hope to the world.


Anyway, that's how I see it. What about you, tosk; and Bill?


------------------
ALABAMA: Tradition; Class; A name to respect in College Football

 

[Ratatosk]

Fiat Voluntas Tua

Here, as in the beginning we meet, the wanderer (as Lazarus), Brother Francis (as a skull), and the buzzards.

Others:

Brother Joshua -- In the Bible, Joshua led his people into the Promised Land.

Dom Zerchi -- His name begins with Z. He is the last (it seems) abbot of the Leibowitz abbey. Dom Arkos (begins with A) was the first abbot after Leibowitz was canonized. "I am alpha and omega, the beginning and the ending..."

Dr. Cors -- Cor is heart in Latin. Dr Cors is all emotion; he sincerely believes in his feelings. He doesn't think about or question his emotions. He is the perfect servant of the state. He is always "only following orders."

Mrs. Grales -- Sounds like Grail as in Holy Grail. According to Christian legend the Holy Grail is the dish from which Christ ate the Paschal lamb with his disciples, which passed into possession of Joseph of Arimathea, and was used by him to gather the Blood of Christ, when His body was taken from the Cross.

Priscilla -- Mrs. Grales dog. Priscilla and Aquila were tentmakers who entertained St. Paul (who was also a tentmaker) when he first visited Corinth (Acts 18:1). They were later converted to Christianity.


The mission of Brother Joshua:
"Quo peregrinatur grex, pastor secum." -- Where the flock goes, the shepherd goes. Peregrinatur means to wander in an alien land, so a little more long winded but slightly more accurate translation might be: Wherever the flock wanders (in an alien land), the shepherd accompanies them (goes with them).


The story:

The world is on the verge of war again. Dom Zerchi talks to Brother Joshua about Quo peregrinatur, a plan to perpetuate the Church on colony planets and asks him to lead the group that will go.

"Three questions," said the abbot."...First, are you willing to go? Second, do you have a vocation to the priesthood? Third, are you willing to lead the group?...you have three days to think--maybe less."

As they cross the road to the other side of the abbey for their evening meal, Joshua and Zerchi encounter Mrs. Grales and her six-legged dog, Priscilla. As Mrs. Grales is appealing to Dom Zerchi to baptize her other head, Rachel, Brother Joshua feels certain it smiled at him.

Before the evening meal, Dom Zerchi notices an old man at the beggar's table. Zerchi feels he has seen him before and asks: "who are you, if I may ask. Have I seen you somewhere before?"...
"Call me Lazarus..."

That night, Joshua sleeps badly. He dreams of Mrs. Grales. "And the Rachel face opened its eyes and tried to speak to Joshua, but he could only hear her faintly, and understand her not at all...He paused and tried to read her lips...'I am the Immaculate Conception,' came the dream whisper."

That night, in retaliation for an Atlantic assault against an Asian space station, an ancient city dies.

The next morning, Zerchi sends for Joshua. He talks, more to himself than Joshua, about how the State has usurped the authority of God. But 'only by the consent of the people--the same rabble that shouted "Non habemus regem nisi caesarem," when confronted by Him--God incarnate...'

(This refers to John 19:15. "illi autem clamabant tolle tolle crucifige eum dixit eis Pilatus regem vestrum crucifigam responderunt pontifices non habemus regem nisi Caesarem" -- "But they cried out, Away with him, away with him, crucify him. Pilate saith unto them, Shall I crucify your King? The chief priests answered, we have no king but Caesar.")

Dom Zerchi tells Joshua, "I asked you three questions yesterday. I need the answers now."
"I'm willing to go."...
"I'm not sure about the priesthood, Domne"...
"I don't think I'm able."
"...Listen, none of us has been really able...This order has had abbots of gold, abbots of cold tough steel, abbots of corroded lead, and none of them was able, although some were abler than others, some saints even. The gold got battered, the steel got brittle and broke, and the corroded lead got stamped into ashes by Heaven."

As he ponders his decision, Joshua asks himself, Why send the starship? Is it an act of hope or an act of despair? He decides "It isn't hope for Earth, but hope for the soul and substance of Man somewhere."...

"The closer men came to perfecting for themselves a paradise, the more impatient they seemed to become with it, and themselves as well...But when the world became bright with reason and riches, it began to sense the narrowness of the needle's eye, and that rankled a world no longer willing to believe or yearn."...

"And yet the Memorabilia was to go with the ship! Was it a curse?...It was no curse, this knowledge, unless perveted by Man, as fire had been this night."

Joshua decides he can accept everything.

"While the sun rose, a shepherd was elected to lead the flock."

Before they leave for the starship that that will take them away from Earth, Dom Zerchi talks to the chosen ones.

"You are the continuity of the Order," he told them. "With you goes the Memorabilia. With you goes the apostolic succession, and, perhaps--the Chair of Peter."

"...For though life on Earth may be destroyed--God forbid--as long as man lives elsewhere, the office of Peter cannot be destroyed...."

"...Be for Man the memory of Earth and Origin. Remember this Earth. Never forget her, but--never come back....If you ever come back, you might meet the Archangel at the east end of Earth, guarding her passes with a sword of flame."

(The Archangel -- When God drove Adam and Eve from the garden of Eden, "...he placed at the East of the garden of Eden, Cherubims, and a flaming sword, which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." According to Christian tradition it is the Archangel Michael who guards the entrance to the garden of Eden.)

"Those who stayed behind had the easier part. Theirs was but to wait for the end and pray that it would not come."

While they wait, Dom Zechi has an extended argument about state sponsered euthanasia with Dr. Cors. It starts with a radio broadcast, but Dr. Cors' arguments are easily summed up by Abbot Zerchi.

'His secretary came to stand in the doorway. "Yes, reverend Father?"'
"You heard?"...
"You heard him say it? 'Pain's the only evil I know about.' You heard that?"
The monk nodded solemnly.
"And that society is the only thing that determines whether an act is wrong or not? That too?"
"Yes."
"Dearest God, how did those two heresies get back into the world after all this time?"

Zerchi agrees to hear Mrs. Grales confession, then he sees one of Cors' red tag patients with her daughter on the way to the Green Star euthanasia site. She won't admit where she is going. She says she is going to town. He offers to take her and she gets into his car. On the way back, the police stop them at the euthanasia site and the woman tries to get out of the car. Zerchi tries to command her not to go, but a policeman forcefully restrains him and the woman gets out with her daughter. The state wins again.

Zerchi returns to the abbey to hear Mrs. Grales' confession.

"...I feel need of Shriv'ness, Father--and something else as well."
"Something else Mrs. Grales?"
She leaned close to whisper behind her hand. "I need to be giving shriv'ness to Him as well."
The priest recoiled slightly. "To whom? I don't understand."
"Shriv'ness--to Him who made me as I am," she whimpered. But then a slow smile spread her mouth. "I--I never forgave him for it."
"Forgive God? How can you--? He is just. He is justice, He is love. How can you say--?"
Her eyes pleaded with him. "Mayn't an old tumater woman forgive Him just a little for his justice? Afor I be asking His shriv'ness on me?"
...In her simple world, it was conceivable to forgive justice as well as for God to pardon Man. So be it, then, and bear with her, Lord, he thought, adjusting his stole.

While Zerchi is hearing Mrs. Grales' confession, nuclear missiles strike. Zerchi grabs the ciborium and runs for it but the building falls on him. He wakes up pinned underneath some rocks then passes in and out of consciousness as he waits for death. During one of his waking periods he finds a skull. "The jawbone was missing, but the cranium was intact except for a hole in the forehead from which a sliver of dry and half-rotten wood protruded. It looked like the remains of an arrow." Undoubtedly, Brother Francis.

He wakes again to find a buzzard watching him. "A dark and ugly bird, but not like that Other Dark. This one coveted only the body."

Then came Rachel. The face of Mrs. Grales looked as though it was dying but Rachel was alive. He tried to baptize her but she pulled back.

"Her eyes fell on the ciborium....Finally he could make out that she was holding the golden cup in her left hand, and in her right, delicately between thumb and forefinger, a single Host..."
"He received the wafer from her hand...."
"He tried to refocus his eyes to get another look at the face of this being, who by gestures alone had said to him: I do not need your first Sacrament, Man, but I am worthy to convey to you this Sacrament of Life. Now he knew what she was, and he sobbed faintly when he could not again force his eyes to focus on those cool, green, and untroubled eyes of one born free."

(Here he means one born free of original sin.)

He tries to teach her the Magnificat. "He ran out of breath before he had finished. His vision went foggy; he could no longer see her form. But cool fingertips touched his forehead, and he heard her say one word:"
"Live."...
"He had seen primal innocence in those eyes, and a promise of resurrection."

The last scene is of the monks from the Leibowitz abbey who will be leaving Earth aboard a spaceship.

"The last monk, upon entering, paused in the lock. He stood in an open hatchway and took off his sandals. 'Sic transit Mundus,' he murmured, looking back at the glow. He slapped the soles of his sandals together, beating the dirt out of them."...

Slapping the soles of his sandals together is reminiscent of Mark 6:11.

"And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear you, when ye depart thence, shake off the dust under your feet for a testimony against them. Verily I say unto you, It shall be more tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrah in the Day of Judgment, than for that city."

But for the faithful like Zerchi, there is the promise of the Resurrection. And for the scattered people of Earth there is hope. A shepherd from Earth is searching for them. From Ezekiel 34:12:

" As a shepherd seeketh out his flock in the day that he is among his sheep that are scattered; so will I seek out my sheep, and will deliver them out of all places where they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day."

This book ends on a pessimistic note for the future of Earth, but a note of bittersweet optimism for Man. There is the promise of the Resurrection for the faithful dead of Earth. And for the scattered people of Earth, a shepherd is on the way.