The fourth kind of monks are those called Gyrovagues.
These spend their whole lives tramping from province to province,
staying as guests in different monasteries
for three or four days at a time.
Always on the move, with no stability,
they indulge their own wills
and succumb to the allurements of gluttony,
and are in every way worse than the Sarabaites.
Of the miserable conduct of all such
it is better to be silent than to speak.

My other current book, a real paper-and-ink book, is The Heart of Newman, a 1920s synthesis of Newman’s writings arranged by the Jesuit Erich Przywara. Newman’s works are vast and this provides an enjoyable path through them with unexpected delights around every corner.

Ian McEwan gives us an account of the final days of Christopher Hitchens, “the consummate writer, the brilliant friend”.

Jeff Culbreath gives us John Henry Newman on the virtues of a gentleman. These qualities are commonplaces in the little farm towns of central Illinois.

Benedictine abbess Hildegard of Bingen will be named a doctor of the Church; here’s a bibliography.

Films

Kathy Shaidle reviews John Frankenheimer’s 1966 film Seconds.

Architecture

Hilary White takes a look at nihilist architecture and gives us the Adam Smith Institute and Roger Scruton on the same.

Letters

George Orwell examines the perversions of Salvador Dali.

Edward Gibbon shares his method of studying Latin and Greek, via the Laudator.

Photography

Soviet Moscow in the 1970s and 1980s.

Technicalities

Here’s how to link to a particular moment in a youtube video. In a nutshell, append #t=7m14s to the url to start the video at 7 minutes 14 seconds.

The poor of Jesus Christ

Hilaire Belloc has words for government food banks that give poor food to poor people:

Almighty God, whose justice like a sun
Shall coruscate along the floors of Heaven,
Raising what’s low, perfecting what’s undone,
Breaking the proud and making odd things even.
The poor of Jesus Christ along the street
In your rain sodden, in your snows unshod,
They have nor hearth, nor sword, nor human meat,
Nor even the bread of men : Almighty God.

The poor of Jesus Christ whom no man hears
Have waited on your vengeance much too long.
Wipe out not tears but blood : our eyes bleed tears.
Come, smite our damned sophistries so strong
That thy rude hammer battering this rude wrong
Ring down the abyss of twice ten thousand years.

Christopher, 14:

“If not for being angry, selfish, and spiteful, Achilles could be like Hector.”

Sarah, 12:

“Akhilleus has some similarities with Gilgamesh; he is part god and part human, has a best friend who dies, and goes to his mother when he has a problem.”

There are places for all the activities of the monastery, and at the heart of the great complex of buildings, in the very center—how audacious—they put empty space. The empty space is a garden, grass, flowers in very simple colors, white and blue, and at the very heart a fountain, a spring of living water.  Compare that to a human being: We have all the demands and the various activities, earning your living, making decisions, hospitality, maintaining property, all the rest of it. And in the center, Christ is empty, uncluttered space. Around Christ is the busy walkway servicing the needs of daily life, but in the middle you can refresh yourself in the spring of living water.

What’s amazing is how Homer gave us such perfectly-realized human characters and relationships. The kids are excited and we could easily go on about them all day.

Speaking of which, here are some garish WW2 propaganda posters.  I wonder who will write the Iliad of our “war against terror”?

• 8 potatoes, peeled and diced
• 2 quarts water or stock of choice
• 3 onions, sliced
• 1 cup milk
• salt and pepper to taste
• 2 tablespoons butter or oil of choice
• 4 teaspoons chopped parsley (or chervil)

Steps

1. Put the potatoes into a soup pot. Add the water and onions and cook over low-medium heat, covered, for about 45 minutes.
2. With a hand masher, mash the potatoes in the soup pot. Add the milk, salt, and pepper, and mix the soup, then reheat.
3. Just before serving, add the butter and parsley. Stir and mix well. Serve hot during the cold weather and cold during the warm weather. (When soup is served cold, oil must be used instead of butter.)

This simple little recipe for potato soup has become one of our favorites. I chose it for lunch a few weeks ago because it looked nice and cheap—a few potatoes, an onion, a cup of milk, and you’re off. It doesn’t seem promising at first glance but once everything has cooked together, it somehow becomes a beautiful soup. You can adjust the amount of each ingredient depending on the state of your pantry and the calendar distance to your next payday: the first time I made it, I got by just fine with four potatoes and one red onion.

It’s taken from Br Victor-Antoine d’Avila-Latourrette’s Twelve Months of Monastery Soups, which I think was a gift from one of us to the other.