Once more into the breach of a new book! We haven’t done many science fiction titles on the show (Lewis’ Ransom Trilogy notwithstanding and that certainly not post-apocalyptic sci-fi), so this week we discuss how it was conceived, why it’s readable (and even pleasurable) despite it’s dark circumstances, and why the ideas in this book matter. Happy listening!
I have only read the first eight chapters, but it gave me some crazy flashbacks. I was raised in a strict Catholic home and spent many years in the Phoenix-Scottsdale area. So both the harsh desert environment and the no-nonsense approach to the divine are second nature to me. I asked lots of questions in religious education classes that didn’t have easy answers, but rather than reason with me, I always ended up on my knees for a really long time to “examine my conscience” before being hauled before the Mother Superior to repeat the offensive question or argument. She would then look at me like I was the most irredeemable sinner for even questioning the catechism. But she didn’t say anything other than that she didn’t want to see me again for a long time. When I read the part where Brother Francis is given the exact same dismissal, I laughed so hard I almost cried.
Here to make a comment of great depth: I deeply enjoyed David's reference to the hatch in Lost on this episode . . . because that's what I kept thinking of in my first read of the book. It's a hatch! He's found the hatch! More seriously, I appreciate the way this book makes room for both levity and weight. Such a unique tone paired with an unexpected telling, and it really works.
I am in agreement with the discussion on the podcast about mid-20th century writers. Heidi says there was a lot of fear that the world was going to end and that is reflected in the literature. (And can we talk for a minute about hiding under a desk during an atomic attack?!)
It reminded me a little of the discussions on the Lost Generation when CR was reading The Sun Also Rises. So my question is: if our cultural experiences and the spirit of the age can guide authors during a particular time... what is happening in the literary world today? When future generations look back and read the books that are coming out of our generation-what will some of the themes be? (Dear Lord-please don’t let it be social media. Amen.)
I recently read a juvenile novel about the Ukrainian Holodomor whose frame narrative was a boy stuck at home with his great grandmother during the covid lockdown. Themes were how much we can believe about the news that is reported and what news goes unreported because of political bias. Covid, Ukraine, media bias, interest in the unreported history of minority groups... those all feel very much themes of the day. In juvenile lit especially there has been an explosion of literature from minority viewpoints and I think that's also been reflected in adult literature. I recently visited a bookstore in a tourist town where it felt like most of the juvenile section was about minority groups.
This is looking forward to the second chunk that we are reading, but I found an article on Leibowitz that mentions that the novel was originally published as three separate short stories originally published in the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. That helps make sense of the three part structure with entirely new characters in each section, separated from previous characters by vast amounts of time. So there's a unity of place and theme, but not of characters. I hope it isn't too spoilery to mention, but I was so very sad when I got to the death of Brother Francis. I'd read the book before, and remembered that it had jumps in time; but it's been a long time and I'd forgotten the details and how abruptly the first section comes to an end.
Here's the article. It does have some spoilers in it, so beware, but I thought the information about the structure was really interesting.
Yes, when I first read Canticle I, too, was really thrown by that death! And then learning about the three separate stories helped me process and receive the book as a whole.
I’ve enjoyed this so much. It’s been on my too read for years, so I’m glad I’m finally getting to it. One of the things I’ve really enjoyed is the slow world building-Miller does a really excellent job of situating the reader in the history of the Abbey and the larger world without being clunky/info dumping. I also have felt that same attraction repulsion with Francis-he reminds me oddly of Fanny Price-an innocent with a strong moral compass who is not wily or selfish enough to stand up for themselves in the way we might want them to. Also another piece of sci-fi with monks/priests that I highly recommend is Eifelheim. It made me cry over aliens and I adored it
I’m really enjoying this (also hooked by any book about monks) and trying to keep myself from devouring it.
Heidi, I’m surprised you didn’t mention The Sparrow, the first monks-in-space book I’d ever heard of. I’d not come across “religious” sci-fi before, including the Ransom trilogy.
I’m reading Jayber Crow (my first WB), and it’s an interesting companion to ACFL. I’ve been to articulate my feeling reading it. Does anyone find Berry a bit self-indulgent? 🙊 Not sentimental, but nearby?
I thin Heidi did mention her love for The Sparrow in the winnowing episode. It was suggested as a potential book, but she was concerned some of the content might be too much for readers, so wanted input from more people.
I read Canticle in the late 60s after my sister had to read it for a high school unit on novels dealing with nuclear war (yes, that was a thing in the mid 20th century). It is fun to reread. I always thought that these chapters were written to be reassuring in the face of the desolation caused by the nuclear war centuries before. Hence the humor and the steadfast nature of the monastic life. I remember driving by a monastery in Pecos, NM, years later and thinking “like the abbey in Leibovitz.” It stuck with me.
I have a deep affection for this book, too, but for a very specific reason (I’m addition to living the book itself). Years ago, there was a man at our church who served as an usher. My friend and I sang for mass and had all our kids up in the choir loft with us every week. He was so kind to them, taught them to be ushers on their own, gave them little presents on Christmas and Easter. One day we we talking about books after mass and he asked me if I’d read Leibowitz. When I said I’d never even heard of it, he said he loved it so much, thought it was so important, that he’d lost track of how many he’d given away over the years. The next week he had a copy for me. He was suffering from cancer and passed a year or so later. So I needed to shout out to Ezekiel “Kelly” Sevilla - eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. Thanks, Kelly, for a fabulous book recommendation. I’ve been pushing it on others too. 😉
Some of what makes Francis so likable is his true devotion to the monastery. The other Monks, including Arkos and the monk that Francis gives confession to appear cynical at times. The impatience with his confession or the use of Francis as a pawn to sanctify Leibowitz. Whereas Francis is devoted to his elders and the Abbot. Other grasping monks would embellish and work to claim veneration for the discovery and potential interaction with Leibowitz. Francis is so honest it is endearing. I thought of Alyosha Karamazov.
I have only read the first eight chapters, but it gave me some crazy flashbacks. I was raised in a strict Catholic home and spent many years in the Phoenix-Scottsdale area. So both the harsh desert environment and the no-nonsense approach to the divine are second nature to me. I asked lots of questions in religious education classes that didn’t have easy answers, but rather than reason with me, I always ended up on my knees for a really long time to “examine my conscience” before being hauled before the Mother Superior to repeat the offensive question or argument. She would then look at me like I was the most irredeemable sinner for even questioning the catechism. But she didn’t say anything other than that she didn’t want to see me again for a long time. When I read the part where Brother Francis is given the exact same dismissal, I laughed so hard I almost cried.
Here to make a comment of great depth: I deeply enjoyed David's reference to the hatch in Lost on this episode . . . because that's what I kept thinking of in my first read of the book. It's a hatch! He's found the hatch! More seriously, I appreciate the way this book makes room for both levity and weight. Such a unique tone paired with an unexpected telling, and it really works.
I am in agreement with the discussion on the podcast about mid-20th century writers. Heidi says there was a lot of fear that the world was going to end and that is reflected in the literature. (And can we talk for a minute about hiding under a desk during an atomic attack?!)
It reminded me a little of the discussions on the Lost Generation when CR was reading The Sun Also Rises. So my question is: if our cultural experiences and the spirit of the age can guide authors during a particular time... what is happening in the literary world today? When future generations look back and read the books that are coming out of our generation-what will some of the themes be? (Dear Lord-please don’t let it be social media. Amen.)
I recently read a juvenile novel about the Ukrainian Holodomor whose frame narrative was a boy stuck at home with his great grandmother during the covid lockdown. Themes were how much we can believe about the news that is reported and what news goes unreported because of political bias. Covid, Ukraine, media bias, interest in the unreported history of minority groups... those all feel very much themes of the day. In juvenile lit especially there has been an explosion of literature from minority viewpoints and I think that's also been reflected in adult literature. I recently visited a bookstore in a tourist town where it felt like most of the juvenile section was about minority groups.
This is looking forward to the second chunk that we are reading, but I found an article on Leibowitz that mentions that the novel was originally published as three separate short stories originally published in the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. That helps make sense of the three part structure with entirely new characters in each section, separated from previous characters by vast amounts of time. So there's a unity of place and theme, but not of characters. I hope it isn't too spoilery to mention, but I was so very sad when I got to the death of Brother Francis. I'd read the book before, and remembered that it had jumps in time; but it's been a long time and I'd forgotten the details and how abruptly the first section comes to an end.
Here's the article. It does have some spoilers in it, so beware, but I thought the information about the structure was really interesting.
Yes, when I first read Canticle I, too, was really thrown by that death! And then learning about the three separate stories helped me process and receive the book as a whole.
I’ve enjoyed this so much. It’s been on my too read for years, so I’m glad I’m finally getting to it. One of the things I’ve really enjoyed is the slow world building-Miller does a really excellent job of situating the reader in the history of the Abbey and the larger world without being clunky/info dumping. I also have felt that same attraction repulsion with Francis-he reminds me oddly of Fanny Price-an innocent with a strong moral compass who is not wily or selfish enough to stand up for themselves in the way we might want them to. Also another piece of sci-fi with monks/priests that I highly recommend is Eifelheim. It made me cry over aliens and I adored it
Yes! Eifelheim was so good!
I like the comparison of Brother Francis with Fanny Price.
I’m really enjoying this (also hooked by any book about monks) and trying to keep myself from devouring it.
Heidi, I’m surprised you didn’t mention The Sparrow, the first monks-in-space book I’d ever heard of. I’d not come across “religious” sci-fi before, including the Ransom trilogy.
I’m reading Jayber Crow (my first WB), and it’s an interesting companion to ACFL. I’ve been to articulate my feeling reading it. Does anyone find Berry a bit self-indulgent? 🙊 Not sentimental, but nearby?
I thin Heidi did mention her love for The Sparrow in the winnowing episode. It was suggested as a potential book, but she was concerned some of the content might be too much for readers, so wanted input from more people.
I read Canticle in the late 60s after my sister had to read it for a high school unit on novels dealing with nuclear war (yes, that was a thing in the mid 20th century). It is fun to reread. I always thought that these chapters were written to be reassuring in the face of the desolation caused by the nuclear war centuries before. Hence the humor and the steadfast nature of the monastic life. I remember driving by a monastery in Pecos, NM, years later and thinking “like the abbey in Leibovitz.” It stuck with me.
I have a deep affection for this book, too, but for a very specific reason (I’m addition to living the book itself). Years ago, there was a man at our church who served as an usher. My friend and I sang for mass and had all our kids up in the choir loft with us every week. He was so kind to them, taught them to be ushers on their own, gave them little presents on Christmas and Easter. One day we we talking about books after mass and he asked me if I’d read Leibowitz. When I said I’d never even heard of it, he said he loved it so much, thought it was so important, that he’d lost track of how many he’d given away over the years. The next week he had a copy for me. He was suffering from cancer and passed a year or so later. So I needed to shout out to Ezekiel “Kelly” Sevilla - eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. Thanks, Kelly, for a fabulous book recommendation. I’ve been pushing it on others too. 😉
Is there no way to edit a Substack comment?! No matter how many times I proofread I miss something...”in addition to loving the book itself...”
Try clicking on those three little dots To the right of your Comment. You should see an offering to Click for an edit or delete.
Thank you! But I only have the option to hide or delete. I’ll try from a desktop, that might help.
EDIT: It works from a desktop!
Enjoyed the conversation and am loving the book.
Some of what makes Francis so likable is his true devotion to the monastery. The other Monks, including Arkos and the monk that Francis gives confession to appear cynical at times. The impatience with his confession or the use of Francis as a pawn to sanctify Leibowitz. Whereas Francis is devoted to his elders and the Abbot. Other grasping monks would embellish and work to claim veneration for the discovery and potential interaction with Leibowitz. Francis is so honest it is endearing. I thought of Alyosha Karamazov.