{"id":20,"date":"2010-05-07T08:31:00","date_gmt":"2010-05-07T08:31:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.beliefnet.com\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html"},"modified":"2010-05-07T08:31:00","modified_gmt":"2010-05-07T08:31:00","slug":"what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html","title":{"rendered":"What I’m Reading: Flannery O’Connor"},"content":{"rendered":"

I turned in my thesis last Friday night. Well, kind of. I finished my thesis last Friday night and submitted it by email only to discover on Monday that I had submitted a draft from twelve hours earlier. A draft complete with notes like “INSERT QUOTE HERE,” no title page, no footnotes. Thankfully, my gracious professor didn’t seem to care as I sent the final version.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
It’s done. It’s in. And I will graduate from Seminary seven years after I first enrolled. <\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
I can critique my thesis already–not enough reference to literary criticism, not enough understanding of Catholic theology. But the joy of it for me was that I was able to read the vast majority of Flannery O’Connor’s published writing–stories, essays, novels, and letters. So in keeping with Friday’s “What I’m Reading” theme, here is an abridged version of the introduction to my thesis, which discusses the novel The Violent Bear It Away<\/a><\/i> as well as the stories “The Lame Shall Enter First,” “Good Country People,” and “The Life You Save May Be Your Own.” I was particularly interested in The Violent Bear It Away<\/i> because one of the main characters is a little boy who is an “idiot.” It is not a stretch to imagine that this boy, who never speaks and who is described as having peculiar facial features, has Down syndrome. At the end of the novel, the boy (whose name is Bishop) is drowned by his older cousin. The story has haunted me for years, and I wrote the thesis to try to come to terms with his death, which was also his baptism.<\/div>\n
<\/div>\n
<\/p>\n

Flannery O\u2019Connor\u2019s writing is nothing if not memorable. The vividness of her imagery, the violence of her characters\u2019 actions and fates, her uncompromising insistence on the jarring presence of both evil and grace in the world\u2014all combine to create stories and characters that live on in the imagination. O\u2019Connor understood her own work as an attempt to shout at the world. In light of the presumed unbelief of her audience, she explained, \u201cto the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost-blind you draw large and startling figures\u201d (from Mystery and Manners<\/a><\/i>). And yet O\u2019Connor\u2019s writing does not move in the direction of the fantastical or magical. She shocks the reader with her realism, with the idea that the devil is real, that death is brutal, and that life without God is even worse. O\u2019Connor employs characters with cognitive and physical disabilities throughout her stories and novels as a part of this project of shouting at her readers. These characters\u2014with their obvious abnormalities of body and mind\u2014are central to O\u2019Connor\u2019s literary and theological imagination. They draw the reader\u2019s attention at first because they are different, but O\u2019Connor employs them that the reader might find herself in them\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

O\u2019Connor\u2019s fiction employs the typical Catholic rites of baptism and the Eucharist as sacramental acts. But for her, sacramental reality extends beyond the rites of the Church. She recognizes God\u2019s grace mediated through created things everywhere. As Ralph Wood explains, \u201cThe theological key to Flannery O\u2019Connor\u2019s comedy lies in her thoroughly Catholic (and specifically Thomistic) conviction that grace does not destroy but completes and perfects nature. She seeks to recover, amidst the secular absence of God, the divine presence that is sacramentally at work in every living thing\u201d (from The Comedy of Redemption<\/a><\/i>). In other words, within O\u2019Connor\u2019s fiction physical reality, be it aspects of creation or human creatures themselves, always retains the possibility of functioning sacramentally. Physical reality (outside of the Sacraments of the Church) may remain merely symbolic, but the physical always has the potential to bring about the spiritual. Created things\u2014nature, human beings, even objects\u2014can serve as a conduit of God\u2019s grace, not just a symbol of it. Many of O\u2019Connor\u2019s characters function on a merely symbolic level. The physical aspect of their existence points towards a spiritual reality without ensuring the reader that God\u2019s grace will be recognized or received. But Bishop, the child in The Violent Bear It Away<\/i>, functions sacramentally. His very being, his physical presence, effects God\u2019s grace. <\/span><\/p>\n

In employing characters with disabilities, O\u2019Connor not only points the reader toward a sacramental understanding of reality but also a Biblical one. She does not single out disabled bodies for her fiction simply because they are unusual. Nor does she understand them as particularly broken or unworthy of God\u2019s grace. On the contrary, these characters\u2019 bodies are a conduit of grace for the \u201ctemporarily able-bodied\u201d among us, because in the disabled body we are able to see ourselves, broken and beloved. O\u2019Connor\u2019s approach to disability is reminiscent of John 9. In this passage, Jesus and his disciples encounter a \u201cman born blind,\u201d at which point the disciples ask for explanations: \u201cWho sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?\u201d The disciples\u2019 question distances them from the man. They reduce him to a theological problem, and they assume that his disability is an indication of sin. In the story that follows, Jesus surprises and confounds the disciples. He overturns their assumptions about the relationship between sin and disability: \u201cNeither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God\u2019s works might be revealed in him.\u201d And yet the blind man is not reduced to a prop on the stage of God\u2019s glory. The blind man is not only healed of his blindness and thus restored to the community; he personally encounters Jesus. The glory of God transforms his life. We, the reader, might be fortunate enough to see the spiritual reality that the blind man\u2019s life demonstrates. But he not only sees it. He experiences it. <\/span><\/p>\n

Moreover, by the end of the encounter with this blind man, Jesus has demonstrated that physical blindness is nothing compared to the spiritual blindness of most people. The physically blind man is healed of his physical condition, which only reveals a deeper ability to see. The blind sees Jesus for who he is. The Pharisees cannot see the same. Perhaps the disciples cannot either. And perhaps we, the readers of the story, can only hope to be like the blind man, able to see Jesus for who he is. <\/span><\/p>\n

O\u2019Connor\u2019s approach to characters with disabilities echoes the themes in John 9. She refuses to conflate sin and disability. In fact, she suggests that characters with disabilities may have been singled out by God in a positive way. Physical and mental disability may well be a special indication of God\u2019s grace, an opportunity to understand our true nature. And by true nature, O\u2019Connor does not only want to point out the broken and sinful aspects of humanity. She also wants us to understand our necessary creatureliness, the limitations that are inherent to being human, the limitations that prompt reliance upon one another and ultimately upon God. O\u2019Connor follows Jesus in her nuanced understanding of disabilities. Readers may initially encounter her characters with disabilities as \u201cfreaks,\u201d as i
\nndividuals who are so different that they do not seem to bear any relation to \u201cnormal\u201d people. But O\u2019Connor intends for us to see ourselves in these characters. In O\u2019Connor\u2019s theological anthropology, all of us are broken and needy. The visible limitations, brokenness and need of individuals with disabilities, however, allows the reader to glimpse the invisible spiritual neediness that characterizes us all. People with disabilities have been singled out to show us who we are, that we might recognize our need, turn to God, and receive God\u2019s grace. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\n

\n

<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I turned in my thesis last Friday night. Well, kind of. I finished my thesis last Friday night and submitted it by email only to discover on Monday that I had submitted a draft from twelve hours earlier. A draft complete with notes like “INSERT QUOTE HERE,” no title page, no footnotes. Thankfully, my gracious…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":88,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7,1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-20","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-disability","category-down-syndrome"],"yoast_head":"\nWhat I'm Reading: Flannery O'Connor - Thin Places<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"What I'm Reading: Flannery O'Connor - Thin Places\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"I turned in my thesis last Friday night. Well, kind of. I finished my thesis last Friday night and submitted it by email only to discover on Monday that I had submitted a draft from twelve hours earlier. A draft complete with notes like “INSERT QUOTE HERE,” no title page, no footnotes. Thankfully, my gracious…\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:url\" content=\"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:site_name\" content=\"Thin Places\" \/>\n<meta property=\"article:published_time\" content=\"2010-05-07T08:31:00+00:00\" \/>\n<meta name=\"author\" content=\"amyjuliabecker\" \/>\n<meta name=\"twitter:card\" content=\"summary_large_image\" \/>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"What I'm Reading: Flannery O'Connor - Thin Places","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"What I'm Reading: Flannery O'Connor - Thin Places","og_description":"I turned in my thesis last Friday night. Well, kind of. I finished my thesis last Friday night and submitted it by email only to discover on Monday that I had submitted a draft from twelve hours earlier. A draft complete with notes like “INSERT QUOTE HERE,” no title page, no footnotes. Thankfully, my gracious…","og_url":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html","og_site_name":"Thin Places","article_published_time":"2010-05-07T08:31:00+00:00","author":"amyjuliabecker","twitter_card":"summary_large_image","schema":{"@context":"https:\/\/schema.org","@graph":[{"@type":"WebPage","@id":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html","url":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html","name":"What I'm Reading: Flannery O'Connor - Thin Places","isPartOf":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/#website"},"datePublished":"2010-05-07T08:31:00+00:00","dateModified":"2010-05-07T08:31:00+00:00","author":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/#\/schema\/person\/4dde10eee38770361dc9b46a9413776b"},"breadcrumb":{"@id":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html#breadcrumb"},"inLanguage":"en-US","potentialAction":[{"@type":"ReadAction","target":["https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html"]}]},{"@type":"BreadcrumbList","@id":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/2010\/05\/what-im-reading-flannery-oconnor.html#breadcrumb","itemListElement":[{"@type":"ListItem","position":1,"name":"Home","item":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces"},{"@type":"ListItem","position":2,"name":"What I’m Reading: Flannery O’Connor"}]},{"@type":"WebSite","@id":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/#website","url":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/","name":"Thin Places","description":"Amy Julia Becker on Faith, Family, and Disability","potentialAction":[{"@type":"SearchAction","target":{"@type":"EntryPoint","urlTemplate":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/?s={search_term_string}"},"query-input":{"@type":"PropertyValueSpecification","valueRequired":true,"valueName":"search_term_string"}}],"inLanguage":"en-US"},{"@type":"Person","@id":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/#\/schema\/person\/4dde10eee38770361dc9b46a9413776b","name":"amyjuliabecker","image":{"@type":"ImageObject","inLanguage":"en-US","@id":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/#\/schema\/person\/image\/","url":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-content\/wphb-cache\/gravatar\/222\/2222023dcae76abe6e896a3cf80e9836x96.jpg","contentUrl":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-content\/wphb-cache\/gravatar\/222\/2222023dcae76abe6e896a3cf80e9836x96.jpg","caption":"amyjuliabecker"},"description":"Amy Julia Becker writes about theology, disability, family, and culture. Two major life experiences have shaped her writing and her faith\u00e2\u20ac\u201dcaring for her mother-in-law as she battled cancer and welcoming her daughter Penny into the world after she was diagnosed at birth with Down syndrome. Both experiences expanded and enriched her understanding of what it means to be human and to receive each and every person as a gift.\u00c2\u00a0 A graduate of Princeton University and Princeton Theological Seminary, she is the author of Penelope Ayers: A Memoir, and the forthcoming A Good and Perfect Gift (Bethany House). Her essays have appeared in First Things, The Philadelphia Inquirer, The Christian Century, ChristianityToday.com, and Bloom, among other online venues.","sameAs":["http:\/\/amyjuliabecker.com"],"url":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/author\/amyjuliabecker"}]}},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/88"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/20\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=20"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.beliefnet.com\/columnists\/thinplaces\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=20"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}