Very welcome. You might also want to pick up a copy of George Weigel’s “Letters to a Young Catholic: The Art of Mentoring” which discusses the idea of the Sacramental Imagination, as developed by G.K. Chesterton, in several works like Brideshead Revisited and Flannery O’Connor’s works, as well as sacred art and architecture, and as a general worldview outside the arts. It has one of the best expositions on the subject I’ve read and is an enjoyable book as well. As one reviewer of the book said, the “Catholic Imagination” is not a way we fantasize about something, but a reference to “the idea that Catholicism is not just a creed but an “optic,” a rooted way of viewing the world,” or as another reviewer said, “looking at the world through a Catholic lens.” That’s a definition that you might find useful.Yes, but it’s the understanding of “immagination” that’s troubling me. Can’t believe I’ve been all over the internet on this (Flannery O’Connor, Tuscany Press, Catholic Fiction.net and so on) and didn’t try wikipedia. Thanks to both of you for replying. You make me happy that I joined this site. Thanks again.
It would be interesting to take a look at examples of how that worldview plays out in genre fiction written by Catholics, where it is sometimes most evident as it plays against and subverts (or “superverts”) some of the expected tropes of the literary forms. For instance:Yes, there are some good definitions here.
I would say it’s fiction from a Catholic worldview. Basically, it’s not just a materialistic view, but there are forces at play both for good and evil, many of which are beyond our understanding. But we can get glimpses of them, and they make for much more interesting reading than the usual non-Christian worldview.
A Catholic worldview, in my opinion, is also richer than even the Protestant view. The universe is full of angels, demons, saints, and who knows what else. They are separated from us by a very thin glass window; they can see us but we can’t usually sense them.
Or not. But that’s my thought.
Yep, the weather here is glorious. I am truly a desert rat.I so agree, Arizona Mike (who is probably a lot warmer than I am in my 8 inches of OH snow of which I am not complaining, I could be in Boston, or paying for a vacation in FLA that isn’t all that warm. But I digress.) In fact, I am presenting to my book club in early May about Catholic Fiction. That’s why I’m trying to get a better understanding of it (and also because I’m a writer.) Could you recommend 2 or 3 short stories one that would show that “culture Catholicism” doesn’t make a story Catholic fiction; one that has little or no culture Catholicism but is considered Catholic fiction? It seems I read one by Flannery O’Connor years ago that didn’t mention Catholicism at all yet she is considered a pillar of Catholic fiction.
Here is the link to the Catholic Writers Guild Seal of Approval evaluation form. I don’t know if this is the form you looked at, but these are some things that would keep a book from being awarded the SoA.I looked at the CWG form. Bit off-topic, but what of stories like “The Power and the Glory” - where the protagonist (in this case a priest) is guilty of mortal sin (fornication, alcoholism, even pride) although the author may try to forgive it? I have a concept churning in my mind of a priest who has a sex addiction (not that I intend to write anything graphic) who yet still manages to win over his parishioners - not because he permits addictions to go unchecked, but like Peter, he knows he is tempted, weak, and he falls. And he is honest about it. And he still tries to correct it.
Is there any place in Catholic or Christian imagination where we may portray man as (succinctly) a gross sinner, who knows he is, who yet will be healed and is healed?
Are you asking if this can be done, or asking for examples of books where it has been done?Is there any place in Catholic or Christian imagination where we may portray man as (succinctly) a gross sinner, who knows he is, who yet will be healed and is healed?