Wednesday, February 13, 2008
From Horror And Sadness, Sanctuary
Like many people, I've always been a huge fan of St. Theresa, the Little Flower. In this picture, I'm sitting near her shrine in Royal Oak, a beautiful art deco church that serves to display many of her relics. It's quite possibly the most breathtakingly beautiful church I've ever seen and was built by Father Coughlin, a Nazi sympathizer who broadcasted his radio show from the central tower of the church during World War II. The money he brought in from his listeners helped build this wondrous place which makes it all the more interesting for me. From evil comes beauty, from horror and sadness, sanctuary. It strikes me that this is a perfect metaphor for fiction itself -- the grief we have suffered turned into something spectacular and healing for others.
I found myself reading some truly awful drivel that an aquaintance had copied for me about how one should not write negative thoughts down, that it gives power to the "pain-body" we all carry inside. I wanted to yell, Are you fucking kidding me? But nobody was around and it would have seemed odd and my pain body might not have liked it. Ha! The one true revolutionary act a writer can perform is to tell the truth and not sugarcoat it. Anything less makes us willing participants in the perpetuation of our own suffering. St. Theresa knew this when she wrote in her famous autobiography, Let us pray for the bad priests! The irony being that one of the most infamous priests created a place where she is honored for all time. It's something a fiction writer would love, if he or she could think of it.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"I write for revenge against silence." Bob Shacochis
Drinking movie suggestion: Affliction
Benedictions and Maledictions