Just picked up Les Murray's new book, glanced at it quickly--the demands of classes and writing! He's marvelous as ever, but after reading Merton in Contemp. Christian Poetry I can't help but wish that other Catholic (and Protestant) poets were more keen in lifting up the name of Jesus.
I got an e-mail from a fine fiction writer not too long ago, and I asked her for titles for the Fiction version of the above class this spring. She said she doesn't write Catholic fiction anymore. That kind of thing always amazes me. How could one stop? The saints knew and know how to look at the world. Oprah Winfrey does not, nor do her minions. What are people thinking? (And how do we want to live?) Who wants to go to the next world saying they chose not to write about that uncomfortable (and unprofitable) Christian stuff--Jesus?
We must be suffused with joy--and the true pathos of suffering; not confine ourselves to the chorus of gargle-ers.
This life is about Jesus.