You may be asking yourself...

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Terms, like shirts, lose some of their starch with too much wear.

Perhaps in another blog I will explore the overuse and now droopy meanings of terms like “grace,” “faith” or “doctrine.” Or how to starch them again. 

Today, though, I am thinking about “literature.” A really limp term, anymore.  

Used to, literature referred only to those works of poetry or fiction that were both exceptionally well-crafted and deemed over time to have lasting and significant value for broad populations. I remember learning that definition in, oh, about fifth grade. Now, however, niche comic books, graphic novels and even graffiti, of all things—focused, impermanent and in some cases indecipherable as such forms are—may be described by somebody as “literature.”

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Uh, no. I don’t think so. Then again I am a curmudgeon.

But I am thinking today about real literature. About real books. And one book in particular: a prize-winning novel, Laurus, by the Russian novelist, Eugene Vodolazkin. I think you would find it an interesting read during the lock-down. I know it would provide lasting value.

Laurus concerns one of Russia’s “Holy Fools,” mystic-hermit-healers who, as The New Yorker’s Ken Kalfus tells us, “…wandered the countryside. Their wardrobe and grooming choices earned them names like Maksim the Naked and John the Hairy. Basil the Blessed walked through Moscow in rags, castigated the rich, exposed deceitful merchants, and issued prophecies, many of which proved correct, or close enough. St. Basil’s Cathedral in Red Square is named for him.”

Laurus, himself (only the last of his names), Kalfus describes him this way:

Born in 1440, he’s raised by his herbalist grandfather Christofer near the grounds of the Kirillov Monastery, about three hundred miles north of Moscow. He becomes a renowned medicine man, faith healer, and prophet who “pelted demons with stones and conversed with angels.” He makes a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. He takes on new names, depending on how he will next serve God (“Holy Foolery,” October 15, 2015)

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Okay, okay. I get that that does not sound like a very promising premise for those interested primarily in quick reads, graphic novels, courtroom dramas or international espionage.

BUT…something about it took hold of me. And on the strength of that review (which came to me by “chance,” though I believe it was providence; I do not subscribe to TNY but people sometimes give me copies), I ordered Laurus, started it, and could not put it down.

This, when I can almost always put books down. I have five open books here and there in my apartment even now.

And so thought-provoking that I have never quit thinking about it, not entirely. Have been thinking about it more since the rise of COVID-19 and the fall of our normal routine.  

I will not review the book (Kalfus’ review is still available: https://www.newyorker.com/books/page-turner/holy-fooleryA). Suffice it to say, lot of things happen over its 361 pages, as is the nature of even character-driven novels. There is drama and intrigue, misunderstandings and discoveries, murder, violence and poignancy… moments of terror and wonder. Strangeness, not a little, and a whole cast of characters.

What happens, though, is woven into a broader philosophical or theological question, which is this:

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Is the world a malevolent place? Full of banes and toxins, dangerous berries and beasts—and demons—that want to kill you? So that fear, caution and avoidance are the best strategies for survival?

Or is the world, at heart, a benevolent place? Full of remedies palliatives, herbs and roots—and angels—that want to help and heal you? So that wonder, exploration and experimentation are the best strategies for survival?

Both things are true, of course, to one degree or the other. The world is full of dangers and inspirations.. Angels, and demons. Literarily: full of kingsfoil and nightlock.

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And even today. In contemporary America and the world. Right now all of us are trying to find our way through a world “with devils filled,” as Luther said, which threatens to undo us. But we also believe that God has willed his truth to triumph through us. Rabid and rampant as the dread disease is, we believe that God’s essential goodness is also at work in the world and among us, designed for our healing, and  expressed not least (though not totally) in the energies and selflessness of so many caring individuals…

Walk along with Laurus, if you have time and interest. You will learn things you never knew, and maybe beyond that you will find a kind of mystic-foolish-healing strength that all the Holy Fools knew came from Christ, himself born into and still alive in world full of bane and blessing, dangers and inspirations.

Maybe look again at your own dramas and intrigues, your own misunderstandings and discoveries,  all the moments of terror and wonder—look at this whole strangeness, if you can get your mind around it at all—and a cast of characters near and far that will provide lasting literature to the world.

And already is: in the form graffiti, memes, graphic novels; poetry, songs…and so many novels to come.

All I will say is that whatever I write these days, none of it nearly so ambitious as any of that, is still written in the spirit and awareness of what I learned from Laurus. Which allows me to pray, even today, with John Baillie:

“And above all give me grace to use these beauties around me and this eager stirring of life within me to lift my soul from creature to Creator, and from nature to nature’s God…and help me to be actively concerned for the welfare of little children and for those who are sick, and of the poor, remember that what I do for the least of these brothers and sisters of his, I do for Jesus Christ my Lord. Amen."

Thirtieth Day, Morning