I love everything about this. I only wish I could have been a fly on the wall. My soft spot for Flannery goes back to college. I had a dear friend ask me to read Wise Blood with her and talk about it. I remember those days fresh after graduation, chatting with my friend, who seemed to pick up and know so much more than I did. I remember little of what I read (Why does this happen???), so on her birthday, I bought a bunch of her books for a refresh. I’m looking forward to diving back in.
I wish you could have been more than a fly, Amanda! It would have been fun to have you in the room as a person. :) I had a lot of trouble with Wise Blood, and don’t care to try again, but I will be reading these letters over and over!
I know you spent more than a few hours in the writing of this. Hours that you could've spent some way else, such as weaving your family clothes, or bedsheets, from scratch. But I hope you will consider how the Lord feels about those hours.
Consider whether he might feel those hours were the hours he was secretly hoping you'd be bent over word-work, which for a writer is the distillation of love.
I bet he wanted to be on that party porch, too, talking about whether he himself was much of a woodworker, marveling at Flannery's peacocks and Elizabeth's cake, laughing at every wonderful joke together with you folks! I bet he wanted to be there---and---I know he was. I can sense it from way over here in Minnesota. I could spend 10 hours reading this beautiful distillation, and not one would be wasted. I feel so lucky to have a friend who appoints herself party-thrower and then also answers my letter pleas to wrap all of us right up in the celebration.
"I have other things to say but they can wait and you will have had enough of my incoherence." -from a letter to Betty Hester
Thank you, pen pal. And I love that last quote! There are so many sentences in The Habit of Being that I imagine could have been stolen straight from one of our letters. I keep forgetting to mention this passage, so I'll write it here: "But I must have said this before. I forget by now whatall of my mental mumblings I have laid in your lap... I find that you sometimes appear to know better what I am trying to say than I do; and also it is you now who is in a position to help me. And do."
This is such an excellent tribute. I think it should be required reading for anyone about to read one of O’Connor’s stories. A glimpse at who she was and what she was about.
I love this, and wish I could’ve been a fly too. Though I’m not a prolific writer, she’s always been an inspiration to me in advocacy work. Thank you for reminding me that I don’t have to write like her (though I wish I could) but instead flourish in the story God’s given me to walk in with the tools he’s provided.
Awesome. I love that she knew Robert & Sally Fitzgerald. I've thoroughly enjoyed Robert's translations of Homer. Oh to be a fly on the wall of their conversations!
You could be something like a fly by reading her letters! She lived with the Fitzgeralds for nearly two years, I think, and she mentions her time with them often in her letters. Their lively conversations about Robert's translations inspired some of her writing--Wise Blood, at least, for sure.
I did a double take when I realized her good friend was *that* Robert Fitzgerald! My Greek scholar cousin introduced me to his most poetic translation a few years ago. I'd only read Fagles previously. Now I want to be a fly for all your thoughts on RF, Erik.
I love everything about this, but especially the self-portrait. It's astonishing how comfortable she was with herself, and what a gift she was to everyone because of it. Her honesty with herself and about herself translated into loving well through her writing. I might argue you do the same with your writing, too.
I'm glad to know I was born into a world with someone like you waiting for me, Karen Wells! Maybe when you read the prayer to St. Raphael she reproduced at the end: "Lead us toward those we are waiting for, those who are waiting for us..." you were praying for our future friendship.
I was staring at this comment box, dismayed that all of my thoughts were of the comparison-is-the thief-of-joy variety. I thought about how terrified of Flannery's withering judgement I would be if I sat down to chat with her, and how confident I am that she would see in you a kindred spirit. And I was thinking that if I had dedicated even a fraction of the time and energy to writing that you have, I would consider it a job well done. I was wishing I could have attended your Flannery birthday party. I was working up to putting on a pretty spectacular pity party for myself.
But I was interrupted by the jackhammer of a Northern Flicker's beak on our metal chimney cap. The reverberations sounded throughout the house and made ruminating impossible. Sliding open the door to the deck is normally enough to startle off a Flicker, but this fellow was dogged. Two European Starlings flitted away as I approached the chimney, but the Flicker refused to make eye contact with me and maintained his perch. I scolded. I clapped. I beseeched. I even, I admit, glanced around for something to throw. (Towards him, of course, not at him.) I found no object, but I noticed that the branches on the lilac tree at hand were tipped with tight clusters of purple buds.
I'm glad the Flicker waited until I looked good and foolish before flying away, unbothered. That's how Flannery would have wanted it. Thank you for all the good you add to our world with your writing. I am so happy I get to have you as a friend!
Gypsy Martin, I would rather be a woodpecker on your roof than a guest at Flannery's table. You are the best kind of friend, and forever one of my favorite writers.
As for your pity party... now you know how I felt when you kept going on about your theatrical debut. There were tears every night during the run of your Jeeves show! Oh to live in the same city. (Or state. Or time zone!)
Oh, Elizabeth! I wish I could have been with y'all. And I know Flannery would have love/hated it.
I think she might be the first author I ever really, truly loved as the person she was, and not as the maker of wonderful artifacts. And I, too, have *The Terrible Speed of Mercy* to thank for it.
Thank you for taking the time to share with us so we can live vicariously through you, Elizabeth! The decorations were *beautiful.* And that cake!! Well done! What a gift of an evening that must have been. Right and fitting.
I had actually never seen that self-portrait of Flannery until now. Reading her comments about it were delightful. Thank you for taking the time to put this all together! It’s a gift tied up with a big peacock feather bow. 😊
I love everything about this. I only wish I could have been a fly on the wall. My soft spot for Flannery goes back to college. I had a dear friend ask me to read Wise Blood with her and talk about it. I remember those days fresh after graduation, chatting with my friend, who seemed to pick up and know so much more than I did. I remember little of what I read (Why does this happen???), so on her birthday, I bought a bunch of her books for a refresh. I’m looking forward to diving back in.
I wish you could have been more than a fly, Amanda! It would have been fun to have you in the room as a person. :) I had a lot of trouble with Wise Blood, and don’t care to try again, but I will be reading these letters over and over!
I know you spent more than a few hours in the writing of this. Hours that you could've spent some way else, such as weaving your family clothes, or bedsheets, from scratch. But I hope you will consider how the Lord feels about those hours.
Consider whether he might feel those hours were the hours he was secretly hoping you'd be bent over word-work, which for a writer is the distillation of love.
I bet he wanted to be on that party porch, too, talking about whether he himself was much of a woodworker, marveling at Flannery's peacocks and Elizabeth's cake, laughing at every wonderful joke together with you folks! I bet he wanted to be there---and---I know he was. I can sense it from way over here in Minnesota. I could spend 10 hours reading this beautiful distillation, and not one would be wasted. I feel so lucky to have a friend who appoints herself party-thrower and then also answers my letter pleas to wrap all of us right up in the celebration.
"I have other things to say but they can wait and you will have had enough of my incoherence." -from a letter to Betty Hester
Thank you, pen pal. And I love that last quote! There are so many sentences in The Habit of Being that I imagine could have been stolen straight from one of our letters. I keep forgetting to mention this passage, so I'll write it here: "But I must have said this before. I forget by now whatall of my mental mumblings I have laid in your lap... I find that you sometimes appear to know better what I am trying to say than I do; and also it is you now who is in a position to help me. And do."
This is such an excellent tribute. I think it should be required reading for anyone about to read one of O’Connor’s stories. A glimpse at who she was and what she was about.
I turned 40 last year, too, and I had the same solemn realization. So thankful to have friends like you who understand how special she is.
What a wonderful, grand, lovely occasion! Thank you for letting us share in it- even just a little bit-through your telling. You do good work!
I love this, and wish I could’ve been a fly too. Though I’m not a prolific writer, she’s always been an inspiration to me in advocacy work. Thank you for reminding me that I don’t have to write like her (though I wish I could) but instead flourish in the story God’s given me to walk in with the tools he’s provided.
You would have been welcomed as more than a fly, Deborah! I'm glad you enjoyed this and thanks for telling me so.
I love this, Elizabeth! Thank you for writing it.
Awesome. I love that she knew Robert & Sally Fitzgerald. I've thoroughly enjoyed Robert's translations of Homer. Oh to be a fly on the wall of their conversations!
You could be something like a fly by reading her letters! She lived with the Fitzgeralds for nearly two years, I think, and she mentions her time with them often in her letters. Their lively conversations about Robert's translations inspired some of her writing--Wise Blood, at least, for sure.
I did a double take when I realized her good friend was *that* Robert Fitzgerald! My Greek scholar cousin introduced me to his most poetic translation a few years ago. I'd only read Fagles previously. Now I want to be a fly for all your thoughts on RF, Erik.
Lovely post and looks like it was a lovely party! Wish I could have been there.
I love everything about this, but especially the self-portrait. It's astonishing how comfortable she was with herself, and what a gift she was to everyone because of it. Her honesty with herself and about herself translated into loving well through her writing. I might argue you do the same with your writing, too.
I *will* argue it.
Thank you for this! Wonderful, my friend!
Love this, Elizabeth. Of course there was a story in that event!
One of my favorite Flanneryisms: “One writes what one can and prays to do better.”
Grateful for her faithfulness and courage to do what God put before her.
Also distressed and humbled that I read A Habit of Being before you were born!
I'm glad to know I was born into a world with someone like you waiting for me, Karen Wells! Maybe when you read the prayer to St. Raphael she reproduced at the end: "Lead us toward those we are waiting for, those who are waiting for us..." you were praying for our future friendship.
If you ever stop writing to weave your family’s clothes or bedsheets from scratch, I will protest.
I was staring at this comment box, dismayed that all of my thoughts were of the comparison-is-the thief-of-joy variety. I thought about how terrified of Flannery's withering judgement I would be if I sat down to chat with her, and how confident I am that she would see in you a kindred spirit. And I was thinking that if I had dedicated even a fraction of the time and energy to writing that you have, I would consider it a job well done. I was wishing I could have attended your Flannery birthday party. I was working up to putting on a pretty spectacular pity party for myself.
But I was interrupted by the jackhammer of a Northern Flicker's beak on our metal chimney cap. The reverberations sounded throughout the house and made ruminating impossible. Sliding open the door to the deck is normally enough to startle off a Flicker, but this fellow was dogged. Two European Starlings flitted away as I approached the chimney, but the Flicker refused to make eye contact with me and maintained his perch. I scolded. I clapped. I beseeched. I even, I admit, glanced around for something to throw. (Towards him, of course, not at him.) I found no object, but I noticed that the branches on the lilac tree at hand were tipped with tight clusters of purple buds.
I'm glad the Flicker waited until I looked good and foolish before flying away, unbothered. That's how Flannery would have wanted it. Thank you for all the good you add to our world with your writing. I am so happy I get to have you as a friend!
Gypsy Martin, I would rather be a woodpecker on your roof than a guest at Flannery's table. You are the best kind of friend, and forever one of my favorite writers.
As for your pity party... now you know how I felt when you kept going on about your theatrical debut. There were tears every night during the run of your Jeeves show! Oh to live in the same city. (Or state. Or time zone!)
Oh, Elizabeth! I wish I could have been with y'all. And I know Flannery would have love/hated it.
I think she might be the first author I ever really, truly loved as the person she was, and not as the maker of wonderful artifacts. And I, too, have *The Terrible Speed of Mercy* to thank for it.
I'm looking forward to meeting her sometime soon.
Thank you for taking the time to share with us so we can live vicariously through you, Elizabeth! The decorations were *beautiful.* And that cake!! Well done! What a gift of an evening that must have been. Right and fitting.
I had actually never seen that self-portrait of Flannery until now. Reading her comments about it were delightful. Thank you for taking the time to put this all together! It’s a gift tied up with a big peacock feather bow. 😊