One of St. Blog's most reasonable--and durable--scribes is now a published author.

Brendan Hodge is officially a novelist, with If You Can Get It debuting in the Ignatius Press catalog.

And he was interviewed yesterday in a podcast from Ignatius, so go check it out here. 

And then order the book--like I will be doing, after my next payday. 

Another one from the vaults that I am particularly proud of.

As a quick scan of the archives proves, I published nothing at this blog in 2019.

But that doesn't mean I didn't get something published in long form back then.

Indeed, I did: I had an essay on how to go about seeking used Catholic books published at my good friend Steve Skojec's One Peter Five site.

Since (1) I am proud of it, (2) I think it has broad applicability to hunting down used books in general, (3) it provides an historical perspective and (4) it allows me to quote myself, here's a sample:

As the 19^th century gave way to the 20^th, English-speaking Catholics finally had their footing in both Britain and North America. Decades of emancipation in the former and successes in beating back fiercely anti-Catholic movements in the latter had led to legal and financial stability.

As a result, the English-speaking Catholic world enjoyed a publication explosion during the sixty years prior to the most recent council. Numerous publishers sprang up and offered not only works from Anglophone writers, but also translations of significant European Catholic material.

We can measure the publishing burst thanks to the remarkable efforts of the late Walter Romig (1903-1977) of Detroit. Romig was an energetic editor, author, compiler, and publisher of things Catholic. Sacred Heart Seminary in Detroit keeps his memory alive with an annual award for distinguished lay alumni of the school.

But he deserves to be far better known for his tireless efforts on behalf of Catholic literature. For twenty years, he painstakingly chronicled the growth of Catholic works in the first six volumes of The Guide to Catholic Literature and in his six-volume The Book of Catholic Authors series. As a publisher, he also printed reference works to black Catholic and American Catholic convert authors. While I haven’t been able to find any verifiable biographical details about him online [1], I can say with confidence that Romig made it his mission to tell fellow Catholics and the world about the Catholic impact on the written word. All of this was done in the age of snail mail, card catalogues, and databases consisting of file cabinets, pens, and paper.

The Guide bears witness to this. The first volume covers 1888-1940 and totals 1,240 pages. The next volume covers 1940-44 and clocks in at 633 pages. So even in the midst of the planet’s worst conflict, Catholic publishing saw an astonishing expansion. The subsequent volumes show the growth continuing. The last volume edited by Romig covered 1956-59 and came in at 729 pages. Catholic books poured forth like an oil strike geyser.

By the end of the 1960s, the geyser guttered out, and the great old Catholic publishing houses – Sheed & Ward, Bruce Publishing, Burns & Oates, Benziger Brothers, Hanover House, B. Herder, P.J. Kenedy & Sons, Longmans Green, Newman, Joseph F. Wagner – went out of business, were bought out, or became shadows of their former selves.

Anglophone Catholics not only left “the ghetto” after Vatican II, but blew up their publishing industry when they departed. And while some new companies have come into existence since, most have little connection to the fallen giants of the past.

"What are you reading?" you didn't ask.

So I'll tell you anyway:

Lots. 

I have taken a shine to the writings of Saint Bonaventure, the Seraphic Doctor of the Franciscans.

A contemporary of Saint Thomas Aquinas, he has dwelt in the shadow of the Angelic Doctor for centuries. 

I think this is largely for two reasons: 

(1) Saint Thomas is more accessible, especially in the Summa Theologiae. The premise-objection-reply format lends itself more rapidly to assimilation by the reader. Saint Bonaventure sometimes uses the same approach, but more frequently he does not. And while his prose is accessible (certainly compared to Bl. Duns Scotus), his writing is loaded with seemingly-simple terms which presume a grounding in scholastic language which Thomas' does not.

This is not the case with his mystical writing, which is more accessible. 

Nevertheless, Bonaventure rewards multiple readings. 

(2) The second reason he was overshadowed is that, in many ways, he is the more "conservative" of the two men, souring considerably on Aristotle near the end of his life. While Bonaventure did not entirely abandon Aristotleian reason, he was much more skeptical about it than Thomas, and saw it as largely corrosive.

For Bonaventure, revelation always came first, and revelation demonstrated the limits of human intellect. The goal of true philosophy is to find one's way back to God, and the Scriptures point the way. Reason itself points the way to theology.

 The Franciscans always kept his torch lit, and the completion of the "Quarrachi Edition" of his complete works in the late 19th Century helped re-ignite wider interest. And a certain emeritus pontiff was a huge fan of Bonaventure's works. Most of it is still not in print in English, but the Franciscan Institute has a solid list of his works available in English translation. Alas, they are not shipping at the moment, but should be up and running later.

The second item in heavy rotation is the Book of Sirach. Written during a time of turmoil for the Jewish people, the timeless wisdom is especially apt for our times. And the foreshadowing of certain of Christ's teachings is notable, which should not

surprise.

Not in this family, Chief.

Louis: "Dad, is it weird that I like books?"

Me: "Son, in this family it would be weird if you didn't."

Funny--we've got a lot of books here...

The state of the Alexandria Room catalogue, as of the early morning of October 5, 2015.

I was especially gratified to find a copy of Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? in one of our storage bins. Whatever else can be said for Dick's style, he sure leaves an impression on the memory.

A horse is a horse, of course...

One of the benefits of a semi-classical education is that you can find in the ancients metaphors for our times.

Anyway. My family is well and the books are still being indexed. A lot of Civil War-era reading of late, spurred by an excellent Teaching Company course on Lincoln's rhetoric. I finished an excellent biography of Grant, a solid-if-imperfect biography of Sheridan and a where-was-your-editor biography of Lincoln.

If you want to know about the run-up to the Civil War, you will never do better than this masterwork by the late David Potter. In addition to being a superb historian, he was also an excellent, sometimes even puckish, prose stylist. Discussing the horrific flare-up (and almost-as-rapid flame-out) of nativism in the mid-1850s, he describes the risible Awful Disclosures of Maria Monk as "the Uncle Tom's Cabin of nativism."

That might sound bad except that Potter forthrightly states that the titanic success of Uncle Tom's Cabin has nothing to do with that book's decidedly modest literary merits. I'm not quite done with The Impending Crisis yet, but it is utterly superb so far, quite worthy of the Pulitzer it won (sadly for Potter, posthumously).

I know what women like.

And what they like is a life of Christ by a 19th Century French ultramontane in the original language.

Trust me--it's a hit.

Sixty percent of the time, it works every time.

Proposition: "The collective national IQ peaked in 1967, and has eroded since."

Discuss!

No, I'm grasping towards something like that.

It's a byproduct of cataloguing the books. What strikes me about the America of the 1950s and 1960s is the earnest, serious belief that a general familiarity with matters historical, cultural and intellectual was not only essential, but possible. Durant's Story of Civilization, the Encyclopedia Britannica with its study guides, the Great Ages of Man series, and even rolling on momentum into the early '70s with the Life History of the United States. All general, but well-researched and serious efforts to give the reader a conversational familiarity with a wide range of topics--all because they were worth knowing if one was a well-rounded person. You also saw the flowering of museums, city orchestras, theatrical groups and the like during the same time frame.

Then it ended. The demand dried up, and voila--it was gone. The books went out of print and the arts organizations started to live a hand-to-mouth existence which they haven't, in the main, escaped yet.

Sure, there have been some efforts to push back the tide--Hirsch's Dictionary of Cultural Literacy comes to mind, (hopefully) successful re-funding of museums (the DIA here in Detroit). But nothing like what you saw five decades ago. Nothing like the general presumption that such knowledge is important in and of itself, and is part of a full, well-ordered life. It feels like the fall from, if not a golden age, at least one of silver.

Food for melancholic thought.

You're still visiting!

Well, thank you. Since I'm as reliable as a rain dance in the posting department.

Just when I think I can go at a steady clip, something of higher priority jumps in. Speaking of which: prayers for my mother-in-law would be appreciated, as she had a health scare, and has since transitioned from independent living to life in a decent group home. It was a turbulent couple of weeks in late November-early December.

I recently de-activated my FB account for an indefinite period, so that should be one less screeny distraction.

I have found another, but it is more pragmatic: I'm indexing the Price Book Archives, and it is a daunting task. I am using LibraryThing, which is superb.

But, Lord--I have a lot--a LOT--of books. Here's my start, which I update with great frequency. Please note it is by entry, which can (and does) mean that there are sometimes multiple volumes (encyclopedias, etc.) grouped under one entry.

And, yes--my Much Better Half has correctly diagnosed that part of my motivation is "a d-ck-measuring contest." Sure--I'm bragging, to a certain extent. But it is nice to have the ability to sort, categorize and just flat-out keep track of books.

Gotta love used bookstore discounts.

Finding this in like new condition at 90% off was...nice.

On the bright side...

Rachel had her First Communion at the redoubtable Assumption Grotto in Detroit. This one kinda captures our daily chaos better than the nicer photos.

 
Tommy's a handsome lad already. I think he has a future in grifting.

We have about 80 percent of our books out of storage. The kids have no excuse, really.

Those of you inclined to play "Where's Waldo?" can try to guess at the volumes in question. And no, this isn't all of our shelves. Just a sampler.

Interesting...

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Your mileage will vary.

My bookshelves.

Or, "This is what Heather has to deal with."

About what you'd expect, except that I have at least 4 times as much stuff in storage, including most of my sci-fi/fantasy collection. I do have my sci-fi hardcovers in a nightstand, and my Bibles are scattered hither and yon.

My organizational method? It's not on the floor, pretty much. The top one is the original shelving I installed about a year ago, so it shows some organizing. The bottom I finished on Tuesday.

Any questions, feel free to ask. Who knows--I might even answer.

I can quit any time I want.