As we come to the end of the fascinating book, we’re discussing the change in the authorial voice, the various enigmatic figures of part three, and whether this is a novel which ends in notes of hope or notes of despair. So hit that play button and join us as we discuss the final section of Walter J. Miller’s novel! Happy listening!
Heidi ”Complex …” Sean, “Hopeful?… Makes you want to be a human being.” Complex, Yes! Much good in podcast discussions about things I did not understand and can now grasp a little better. My comment and question here, along with some findings, extended to almost 700 words—so I decided to Post It soon as a whole to Substack.
I’ve been curious about what mid-20th-century fantasy/sci-fi writers thought of A Canticle For Liebowitz. Not finding a whole lot. Carl Sagan, who wrote Contact and was born 11 years after Miller, dove deep into science fiction (Astounding Science Fiction) in 1947. Accordingly (from Wikipedia), Sagan said in 1978 that A Canticle for Leibowitz was among stories "that are so tautly constructed, so rich in the accommodating details of an unfamiliar society that they sweep me along before I have even a chance to be critical".
Does anyone know if CS Lewis mentions Canticle anywhere?
2-3lbs of Brussels sprouts halved (or quartered if very large)
1/2 lb pork (conecuh, tasso, etc)
4 cups cream (plus hot sauce, mustard, etc)
at least 16 oz (good) parmesan
I start by rendering bacon or sausage over low heat until it gives up its fat and starts to crisp. Remove and reserve meat. Add 4 cups cream to the grease (with a few dashes of hot sauce, tbsp Dijon, 1 tsp anchovy paste or fish sauce), reduce over med-low heat (stirring regularly) until sauce is thickened. Stir in 1 cup finely grated Parmesan a little at a time (let each pinch melt before adding more). Salt to taste.
Meanwhile I’ve browned the sprouts in a separate pan–cut-side down in hot oil; let then get well-browned on first side before salting and turning/tossing and lightly browning on all sides. Then add them to baking dish, top with sauce and more Parmesan, and bake until cheese is bubbly and browning.
In defense of the Poet: From my recollection, in the second part, the scene at dinner where the Poet accuses Thon Taddeo of working to get knowledge about the Monastery for a fort saves the place. The Abbot was perhaps too prideful to discuss with Taddeo. And the poet questioning Taddeo's motives help him see the importance of the place and that he may be a tool of his brother more than the other way around.
This is all before the decree from Taddeo's brother and the discussion near the end (again from memory). Perhaps the poets forthrightness helps empower the Abbot to confront Taddeo
On the “What’s the deal with Rachel?” question, I have yet more questions. I understand the connection to the Immaculate Conception, and that she refuses Abbot Zerchi’s baptism because she has no need of it because she is untainted by Original Sin. And I get that she moves the Ciborium to a sheltered area because she feels “the presence” of God or the Holy Spirit, but why does she offer the host to the Abbot? Is it just as a measure of comfort to a dying man? And why is she constantly parroting his words and singing “lalalalala”? Are we to just interpret this as a sign of her innocence, or am I missing something else here? Also, I feel like I am missing something significant about her name. In the Bible, Rachel gives birth to the founders of two of the lost tribes of Israel. Given that humanity on earth is on the verge of flickering out at the end of the book, I am guessing that this is important in some way, but I can’t quite make the connection. Can anyone help me out?
Rachel reminds me a little of the Green Lady in Perelandra in her innocence. Definitely more ambiguous though as to goodness. The “lalala” though like a child is creepy in an apocalyptic death-filled setting.
I think it’s no coincidence that Rachel essentially sprouts from Mrs. Grales - surely a play on the grail, which bore the blood of Christ. In offering the Host (and effectively last rights) to Dom Zerchi), she seems to be embodying the priesthood of Melchizedek.
Then there’s each of the three parts ending with life (buzzards in the first two) flourishing in the face of death, and Rachel’s seems to be a life impervious to the ravages of Lucifer’s falling and one that doesn’t depend on death.
There’s also Rachel weeping for her children because they are no more, and Rachel being the beloved of Jacob (Israel), and Benjamin being the last born son of Rachel. Whether intention on the part of the author or not, there’s a whole lot of symbolism tied into his characters.
Thanks, Sean. I’m looking at this for our Christmas season this year! Hope you and Heather and your family have a great Thanksgiving this year.
Ending with,
Heidi ”Complex …” Sean, “Hopeful?… Makes you want to be a human being.” Complex, Yes! Much good in podcast discussions about things I did not understand and can now grasp a little better. My comment and question here, along with some findings, extended to almost 700 words—so I decided to Post It soon as a whole to Substack.
I’ve been curious about what mid-20th-century fantasy/sci-fi writers thought of A Canticle For Liebowitz. Not finding a whole lot. Carl Sagan, who wrote Contact and was born 11 years after Miller, dove deep into science fiction (Astounding Science Fiction) in 1947. Accordingly (from Wikipedia), Sagan said in 1978 that A Canticle for Leibowitz was among stories "that are so tautly constructed, so rich in the accommodating details of an unfamiliar society that they sweep me along before I have even a chance to be critical".
Does anyone know if CS Lewis mentions Canticle anywhere?
As promised,
Parmesan Creamed Brussels Sprouts:
2-3lbs of Brussels sprouts halved (or quartered if very large)
1/2 lb pork (conecuh, tasso, etc)
4 cups cream (plus hot sauce, mustard, etc)
at least 16 oz (good) parmesan
I start by rendering bacon or sausage over low heat until it gives up its fat and starts to crisp. Remove and reserve meat. Add 4 cups cream to the grease (with a few dashes of hot sauce, tbsp Dijon, 1 tsp anchovy paste or fish sauce), reduce over med-low heat (stirring regularly) until sauce is thickened. Stir in 1 cup finely grated Parmesan a little at a time (let each pinch melt before adding more). Salt to taste.
Meanwhile I’ve browned the sprouts in a separate pan–cut-side down in hot oil; let then get well-browned on first side before salting and turning/tossing and lightly browning on all sides. Then add them to baking dish, top with sauce and more Parmesan, and bake until cheese is bubbly and browning.
Ok. Hopefully my last question. And hopefully you don’t regret sharing this recipe already. What temp do you bake it on?
375
Hopefully it goes without saying that all that meat should be mixed into the sprouts and sauce before baking.
Conecuh is our favorite. ♥️
In defense of the Poet: From my recollection, in the second part, the scene at dinner where the Poet accuses Thon Taddeo of working to get knowledge about the Monastery for a fort saves the place. The Abbot was perhaps too prideful to discuss with Taddeo. And the poet questioning Taddeo's motives help him see the importance of the place and that he may be a tool of his brother more than the other way around.
This is all before the decree from Taddeo's brother and the discussion near the end (again from memory). Perhaps the poets forthrightness helps empower the Abbot to confront Taddeo
On the “What’s the deal with Rachel?” question, I have yet more questions. I understand the connection to the Immaculate Conception, and that she refuses Abbot Zerchi’s baptism because she has no need of it because she is untainted by Original Sin. And I get that she moves the Ciborium to a sheltered area because she feels “the presence” of God or the Holy Spirit, but why does she offer the host to the Abbot? Is it just as a measure of comfort to a dying man? And why is she constantly parroting his words and singing “lalalalala”? Are we to just interpret this as a sign of her innocence, or am I missing something else here? Also, I feel like I am missing something significant about her name. In the Bible, Rachel gives birth to the founders of two of the lost tribes of Israel. Given that humanity on earth is on the verge of flickering out at the end of the book, I am guessing that this is important in some way, but I can’t quite make the connection. Can anyone help me out?
Rachel reminds me a little of the Green Lady in Perelandra in her innocence. Definitely more ambiguous though as to goodness. The “lalala” though like a child is creepy in an apocalyptic death-filled setting.
I think it’s no coincidence that Rachel essentially sprouts from Mrs. Grales - surely a play on the grail, which bore the blood of Christ. In offering the Host (and effectively last rights) to Dom Zerchi), she seems to be embodying the priesthood of Melchizedek.
Then there’s each of the three parts ending with life (buzzards in the first two) flourishing in the face of death, and Rachel’s seems to be a life impervious to the ravages of Lucifer’s falling and one that doesn’t depend on death.
There’s also Rachel weeping for her children because they are no more, and Rachel being the beloved of Jacob (Israel), and Benjamin being the last born son of Rachel. Whether intention on the part of the author or not, there’s a whole lot of symbolism tied into his characters.
Hot take: “The Mona Lisa is stupid.”
Sean you owe us a parmesan creamed brussel sprouts recipe! Headed to the store soon!