(Movie) Tickets, Please!: Of D.H Lawrence and Harvey Weinstein

D.H. Lawrence

In D.H. Lawrence's short story, Tickets, Please!, John Thomas Raynor is a tram car inspector in the North of England during World War I. Since so many able bodied men are off fighting in France, women are taking jobs as conductors, among other professions once reserved for men, on a tram line that connects the industrial towns of the North. John Thomas, also known, derisively, as Coddy, is one of the few men left on the home front who isn't either elderly or physically disabled. He capitalizes on his male to female ratio advantage by "walking out" with several of the more attractive women conductors. After he uses them and dumps them, some leave the service in disgrace while others continue as if nothing happened. But one, Annie, will have none of it. It takes a long time for her to succumb to Coddy's charms, and when she finally does, it's love, at least for her. When she presses too hard, trying to get to know who John Thomas really is on the inside, trying to form a more intimate bond, looking for a commitment, he puts her aside like he did all the others. 

Instead of quitting her job amid scandalous whispers or keeping calm and carrying on, Annie plots a late night encounter in the tram depot between John Thomas and six more of his erstwhile liaisons. What begins with a benign cup of tea ends with the women beating Coddy within an inch of his life. When forced to choose one of them for a wife, he picks Annie, who now will have nothing to do with him. He leaves, cloths torn, face bloodied, head bowed as the women tidy themselves up. Some are laughing, some are quietly satisfied with their revenge, but Annie still seethes, for out of all of them, his late night kisses and warm embraces meant the most, because she was truly in love.

Harvey Weinstein

I thought of this story as I've been reflecting on the saga of Harvey Weinstein, the movie producer caught up in a sex scandal that is consuming Hollywood, and whose ramifications extend throughout the entertainment industry, and even into politics. 

The fictional John Thomas and the very real life Harvey Weinstein have very little in common, except for their penchant for using and discarding young attractive women at work.  John Thomas is actually handsome and charming. He doesn't exercises brute force to win his conquests, but is patiently seductive. We don't get the sense that he fires women who resist, and the ones who leave the tram service's employ do so only after having given in, out of embarrassment, sometimes their own, sometimes that of their families. Harvey Weinstein, not exactly a prize in the looks department, is, by all reports, a crude bully who, almost as a matter of course, used his position as one of the most powerful men in the film industry to pressure women into sex for work in the movies. I won't go into the gory details, but we're not talking about a roguish gentleman here. While you wouldn't want either man to be the dean of a girls school, I could see having a beer with John Thomas. I'm not sure I'd even want to be in the same bar as Harvey Weinstein, let alone share a drink.

What made me think of Tickets, Please! during this scandal is the story's pay off. Actress Rose McGowan, the most vocal of Weinstein's accusers, did't literally lock him in a train car with six other furious actresses for a good old fashioned tail whooping, but she has been the ring leader of a cyber smack down just as vicious. She hasn't been content to just target Weinstein, but has also called out other actors and film executives for acts of misogyny. What motivated McGowan and others to come forward now, and the New York Times to break a story they and others had been sitting on for years, is a mystery, at least to me. But what is not a mystery is her fury. She isn't a jilted lover, but she is a woman taken advantage of by powerful men who allegedly derailed her career when she wouldn't play the Hollywood game. Like Annie, her willingness to come forward empowered others to stand up and confront the bully.

Harry Cohn

For all the press coverage the scandal has received, Harvey Weinstein isn't a unique figure in the history of the motion picture industry. The "casting couch" has been a part of show business as long as actors have had to audition for parts and yes, men and children can be victims of it too. Harry Cohn, the co-founder and head of Colombia Pictures through Hollywood's "golden age" of the 1930's and '40's was notorious for propositioning actresses. Some, like Rita Hayworth and Joan Crawford were established enough that they could tell him where to get off. Others like Marilyn Monroe, as she was trying to break in the business, wasn't so lucky. Like Weinstein, Cohn was known as a crude bully who used fear to get what he wanted. When he died, comedian Red Skelton commented on the large crowd that attended the mogul's funeral by saying, "It proves what Harry always said: give the public what they want and they'll come out for it."

Just because a practice is common and has a long history doesn't make it right, of course, as is the point that we shouldn't blame the victims. If courage came easy this, along with countless other forms of exploitation, wouldn't exist, or at least their occurrence would be very rare. But people are ambitious. They want to move up in the their chosen professions, and show business breeds a particular type of ambition. Aspiring actors and actresses are tempted in ways your average accountant or plumber can't imagine. There is money, fame and pleasure, which are only the beginning. For those who get into directing and producing these allurements are augmented by the grasping for power. For those who are determined there might not be anything they won't do to see their dreams come true. For those who have "made it" the focus becomes keeping the wealth and security they've gained: some do it by keeping quite about misconduct, others use intimidation, lording their power over others. All this makes resisting the indignities of the casting couch difficult, and speaking up about it doubly so. Many do decide that there are some things that they just won't do for fame and fortune. If these resisters are lucky they can settle for a B or C list existence, missing out on bigger parts, not because they lack talent, but because there are limits to how much they'll play the game. Others abandon their careers in show business all together, choosing their dignity over celebrity. There are still others for whom the draw of stardom is just too much, and either give in to or tolerate behavior that is simply beyond the pale. Morally reprehensible? Yes. Shocking? Sadly, no.

Weinstein initially tried to excuse his behavior by saying that he is a child of the '60's Sexual Revolution, when things were looser and certain behaviors weren't simply tolerated but celebrated. I could see him, in perfect George Costanza fashion, stating quite earnestly that if he knew that this type of behavior was frowned upon he never would have done it. This simply isn't true, even if he believes his own words. As we've seen, this type of thing has more to do with the Roaring '20's than the Swinging '60's. The Sexual Revolution was in theory about women taking control of their sex lives, gaining the right to be as promiscuous as a man and not be judged negatively for it. It was a misguided movement, but it was about consensual sex, not sex as power or sex as transaction - which are what the casting couch is all about.

Hugh Hefner 

This scandal arrives at an ironic moment, especially in light of Weinstein's particular excuse. Hugh Hefner, Playboy founder and Sexual Revolution popularizer, passed away September 27. In spite of the propaganda, the so called Playboy Philosophy was about men enjoying the good things of life, including sex, especially sex, without limits. Women were "free" to indulge in these pleasures also, of course. The Pill and other forms of artificial contraception made the consequences of intercourse irrelevant. Sex is no longer the reserve of the marriage bed, linked intimately to parenthood and family. It is ideally a sign of some sort of commitment, but really about recreation. Men and women could participate equally, each exploring and indulging their sexuality as a means of self discovery and self fulfillment. The social strictures placed on women, in particular, were simply societal constructs fueled by structural sexism and the accident of biology that has "saddled" women with the burden of childbearing. Hef was all about night clubs, expensive hi-fi stereos, gourmet meals, fine wines, and sex as the the finish to a night on the town, as Kyle Smith put it. All without strings or consequences.

At first feminists played along, but in short order they caught on to the game these low rent Don Juan's were playing. Being used is being used, no matter how someone tries to intellectualize it. To this day there is a conflict within feminism between the "pro-sex wing," supported by the likes of Camille Paglia - who coined the phrase - who see the more promiscuous side of the Sexual Revolution as a positive development, and those have rejected the Playboy Philosophy, seeing the relations between men and women as a "war," while still maintaining a woman's right to sexual autonomy. This, admittedly over simplified, outlook would be represented by the likes of Gloria Steinem. I'm on the record as being an admirer of Ms. Paglia, but I think she is wrong on this point. But at the same time I don't think that the Gloria Steinems of the world know what their talking about either. All the sides in this debate that we've examined so far miss the point because all of them begin with a deprived view of human sexuality - the very thing that they claim to know the best. 

In Tickets, Please! the women respond so violently to John Thomas when they finally get the chance because there is something inside them that knows instinctively that their dignity had been violated. Annie was in love, but the others had various levels of affection that were somewhat less drastic, nonetheless being used is being used, as I wrote before. On a gut level they knew that sex is more than pleasure, and forges a deeper bond between people. It is the moment when two people are quite literally naked in their vulnerability to one another. Even if it isn't a conscious concern, it is the only human act that can lead directly to a new life. Men are not always actively aware of this little fact. Women are much more attuned to this reality by the very cycles of their body. Men more easily focus on the pleasure component, along with some vague notion of bonding. Women tend to see the bigger picture, guarding their gift more securely. 

Lawrence wrote this story around 1920 as women were entering into the British workforce in ways similar to how they would later in the United States during World War II. It reflects the social changes that bringing women and men together in this way created, both sexes having to learn new ways of relating with one another. The story also reflects Lawrence's belief that men and women are at war with each other, and his own inability to understand the feminine mystique. 

While the sexual revolution was still forty years away, mores were already changing, and we can see the pratfalls foreshadowed in this brief tale. Since sex, at least for John Thomas, is unrelated to marriage and family, he (and we can assume the author) can't understand fully why these women react as they do. In some ways, he is the proto-Hefner, who can't understand why these women don't get the fact that they are sexual beings free to enjoy sexual pleasure responsibility free. John Thomas learns the hard way that there is no such thing a free love. Irregardless of half backed "philosophies" or pharmaceutical miracles, there is something in our very being, of men and women, but I believe especially of women, that knows that sex is more than either recreation or a commodity. It is the spark of life, the embrace that forms one flesh out of two. 

So we have two realities at work here: the long standing practice of powerful men using their status to force vulnerable women into sex, and the more recent development of the Sexual Revolution that sought to make men and women equal, not only in dignity but in the ability to treat their sexual partners in an undignified way. In both cases it's the man who wins, even if his intentions are not to do harm, or the woman believes herself to be empowered. From the contemporary man's stand point there is no reason for the woman not to go along for the ride. Contraception has taken away the danger of pregnancy, and if for some reason the devise or pill fails there's always the abortion clinic. And if you act soon enough there are even pills that will bring it off, as TS Eliot put it. With sex divorced from it's natural consequences all is possible. So why not use it as recreation, or in the case of the movie producer, as a currency? It's only sex, after all; no more significant than going skiing or shaking hands.

The answer begins with acknowledging that men and women are certainly equal in dignity, but different in their respective ways of relating with the world and with one another. Traditional social-religious constructs were established, as Mona Charen points out, to curb the darker instincts of men. Can they be taken to unnecessary extremes? Yes they can, but the Vice President's policy, for instance, of not even eating lunch alone with a woman not his wife, in public or private, isn't some puritanical hang up, it's common sense. It's one less question he'll have to answer, one less whisper murmured behind his back and, possibly one less temptation he needs to struggle with. Women have their own ways of using sexuality to their advantage, no doubt about it. But whether it's the promiscuous culture created by the Sexual Revolution or the toxic culture that's held sway in Hollywood for better than a century, women are victimized to a far greater extent than men. Holding on to healthy, sensible boundaries in how men and women socially interact is a passé idea whose time has come.

The second thing is to reunite in our collective consciousness the connection between sex, childbearing and family. Sex is only a mystery to us because we have disconnected these three things from one another on both a practical and intellectual level. It's no mystery why we know that sexual assault is repulsive and odious. But my experience as a priest, in the confessional or giving spiritual direction, is that even women in committed, consensual relationships begin to feel used in short order. Even those who otherwise claim to be liberated feel an inner disquiet, to put it mildly, wondering if all their boyfriend or lovers wants from them is their body. These women are unhappy, dissatisfied, trapped in a malaise, but are often slow to acknowledge the connection between their existential angst and extra-matital sex. Sex is only truly freeing when it is reserved for and yes limited by, marriage and family life. 

The situation in Hollywood is distinct from that of issues connected with the sexual revolution, though they do intersect. That established, powerful men would abuse their position of authority is nothing new. We have examples that go back at least as far as the biblical story of Susana. That this age old trope is mixed with the relative novelty of a promiscuous culture only makes the perpetrators feel more emboldened, as if the victim's giving in is some sort of fait accompli. The solution doesn't reside alone in recapturing the idea of proper social boundaries, or of coming to understand the legitimate differences between men and women. I haven't written about it here, but the proper understanding of original sin wouldn't hurt either (an article for another day). There needs to be concrete reforms, and an entire change in corporate culture. That this is how business has always been done will make it difficult, but not impossible, and I hope it succeeds. 

I hope it succeeds because I love the cinema. It's been for me an endless source of not just entertainment but, at its very best, of deep meditations on life, a different way of looking at reality. It's the thing that all great art has in common. And yeah, I enjoy movies where things blowed up real good, too. What the film industry needs to do is to get back to what the craft and art of film making is all about. To recapture the deeper reasons why people become actors and directors and writers. As Bette Davis once put it, the fame and the perks are of course the rewards of making it, and should be enjoyed with gratitude. First though an actor has to love to work - to get out on the stage and inhabit a role and make a performance come alive. There is nothing wrong with wanting to make a profit, but first must come the story, the beauty, the art. If Hollywood can reform itself, find its soul, it can be such a great instrument of good, rather than the meat market it has become, and in some ways always has been. 

While I don't agree that the dramatic arts is the only profession that celebrates what it means to live a life, it is a powerful one. I leave you with Viola Davis' acceptance speech from this year's Oscars. Here she touches upon what values Hollywood needs to find in order to forge lasting reform, and fulfill its important mission. 

Tom Petty 1950-2017: An Appreciation

Tom Petty is quite possibly the most under appreciated figure in late 20th century rock music; not because his music isn't popular, but because it's so taken for granted. He did something very rare: he remained relevant, as far as the music charts went, for better than two decades - an eternity in pop music. He had remained a steady concert draw, even after his hit making days came to an end around the turn of the millennium. He stayed so prominent for so long without chasing trends or fads. He wrote and played, along with his band the Heartbreakers, simple, durable rock and roll in the tradition of the Byrds, the Rolling Stones and the Beatles - but he never seemed to be copying. The influences were there, but the songs were always 100% Tom Petty. 

After nearly a decade toiling in obscurity, Petty hit it big in the heart of the disco / post-punk / new wave era of the late '70's, but wasn't punk or new wave, much less disco. He wrote songs of heartbreak, longing and, defiance - probably the thing that he had most in common with the punks - oftentimes sprinkled with a bit of ironic humor. Although he grew disillusioned with the record industry, a frustration that crept into his later songs, I remember and cherish his music for it's deep emotion and life affirming quality. There were flashier acts, more innovative artists, but long after their novelties faded away, there was always Tom Petty - steady, reliable, easy to take for granted. 

Out side of the Heartbreakers he worked with musicians as diverse as George Harrison, Bob Dylan, the Grateful Dead, Stevie Nicks and Johnny Cash, just to name a few. Dave Grohl made his first appearance after Kurt Cobain's death playing drums behind Petty on Saturday Night Live.   But he didn't just mingle with rock royalty. In the 2000's he reformed his first band, the barley remembered Mudcrutch just because he felt like playing good old fashioned country tinged rock with old friends from back home. 

Petty was obviously influenced by the British Invasion of the 1960's, a movement that saw UK artists take American music and sell it back to the US. It's slightly ironic that he broke in England first, showing them what American music was really all about - reclaiming it, infusing it with American authenticity that those others could only approximate. 

He wasn't "Country Rock," but he was proud of his Southern roots, and his songs reflected the rebel ethos. He respected his elders, but he wasn't going to be held down by them. As I wrote, he grew frustrated with the music industry, where, as he put it, selling a million units was still seen as a failure. He wrote songs openly contemptuous of the corporate culture that was stifling pop music's creative impulses. Some have suggested that the relative failure of his Last DJ album was an act of revenge by his label that didn't vigorously promote it, and corporate radio that didn't play it. Undaunted, he kept performing to sold out arenas and recorded the music he believed in.

Always, we must remember that Tom Petty was a man. He had his ups and downs and personal issues. He was a father and a grandfather, who was looking forward to cutting back on touring to spend time with his family. His last tour ended just this past week, and he figured it would be the last major run around the concert circuit he would take. That he wouldn't have that time to enjoy the fruits of his labor, and the things that really matter in this life, is the saddest part of his death two days ago at age 66. 

I don't know what Tom Petty's religious views were, but amid the very confused press coverage on the day he died, there was a report that a hospital chaplain was called to his bedside. He was unconscious, by all accounts, but that those close to him thought that this was something he would want is a great comfort to me. I was angry because, as I wrote, the various press outlets, in their haste to want to get the scoop, reported prematurely that he had died. Amid the fake news I hope that this little detail was true. 

Thomas Earl Petty
October 20, 1950 - October 2, 2017
Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul, and all the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, pest in peace. AMEN

St. John Bosco parish Bulletin Letter: September 3, 2017

This weekend we celebrate Labor Day, a civil holiday that traditionally marks the unofficial end of summer. Some schools haven’t started their new year yet, and many families are taking one last opportunity to enjoy a camping trip or visit to the beach, as well as getting in one last summer cookout. The point of this observance is to remember that while work is important and good, we should also take time to enjoy the fruits of our labor.

For the Christian work is a way that we use our talents and abilities to support our families and to promote the common good of society. Work is a part of God's plan for humanity from the beginning. The Book of Genesis tells us that God didn’t permit the rain to fall until there were humans to till the earth. But Labor Day, much like the Sunday rest we are called to every week, is a reminder that we are called to work, but not be slaves. God created us free people. We are to work hard, but we need to always remember why we work. We work to cooperate with God, who calls us to be stewards of the earth. We work to develop our God given talents for the good of ourselves, our neighbor and society. When we become obsessed with money or things we can either work constantly, neglecting our family and our faith life. On the other side, if we are a business owner or a “boss,” we can exploit workers, forcing them to work on Sundays, for instance, making them have to choose between their legitimate responsibility to support their families and their responsibility to adore God on Sundays. 

I hope all of you are enjoying your Labor Day weekend. As we observe this civil holiday, may we remember the value of work, and also the importance of taking the time to honor God and enjoying the blessings we have received.  

St. John Bosco parish Bulletin Letters: August 20 & 27, 2017

Both these letters, that already appeared in the parish bulletin, are related, so I'm publishing them here together. Sorry for posting them late.

August 20th:
In the month of August we celebrate three feasts that remind us of the Resurrection of the Lord, and the life of the world to come. The first is the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord, on August 6, the other two focus on our Blessed Mother; the Assumption on the 15th and the Queenship of Mary a week later on the 22nd. They are reminders to us that the world as we know it is passing away, and that we need to keep our eyes focused the things that last.
The feast of the Transfiguration recalls the time that Jesus took Peter, James and John up a tall mountain and revealed himself to them in his glory. He did this to reassure them during a difficult moment. Jesus had told the twelve that he was to go to Jerusalem, be handed over to the authorities and be killed, but on the third day he would rise again. The Apostles didn’t understand what he was saying: they understood death, but the idea of rising again was confusing. When Jesus appeared in his glory, with Moses and Elijah by his side, it was sign that he was the fulfillment of the Old Testament promises, and that his death on the cross would lead to the glory of the resurrection. 

In the Assumption of Mary on August 15, we remember that Mary was assumed body and soul into heaven, when the course of her earthly life had come to an end. She heard the world of God and lived it day after day, being obedient to God’s plan for her. She said yes to God’s call to be mother of the Redeemer. Just as she was freed from the guilt and consequences of original sin from the moment of her conception, God preserved her from the decay of the tomb. In both of these great graces Mary is a sign of the future resurrection we will all share in. On August 22 we celebrate the Queenship of Mary, when our Blessed Mother was crowned Queen of Heaven. 


In these three feasts we are reminded that our destiny is heaven. We pass through trials and tribulation now. We all, one way or another, carry a cross of suffering. It may be family troubles that we are burdened with, or may be some addiction. We may have to live with uncertainties at work. We may have to struggle with illness, be it our own or of a loved one. We are all called to be concerned with the causes of peace and justice, understanding that we have been given to world to care for and protect. But we shouldn’t be discouraged. We have our part to play, but we are only a part of the solution. These struggles will go on long after we are gone. But when we do face God at our judgment he will ask us how we worked to spread his Kingdom of love and peace: not if we completed the task, but did we leave the world a better place than we found it? It is then that we will enter paradise, sharing the glory of Christ gained for us by his passion and death. 

August 27th:
Last week I wrote about three recent feasts that point us to the reality of the resurrection. Recently I noticed that in August we also celebrate a number of martyrs, and I’d like to share a reflection on Christian martyrdom with you now. A martyr is a witness to Christ. While there are many ways we can witness to our faith, martyrs surrender their life rather than deny Christ. 

Two of the feasts remember martyrs from the early Church, and two commemorate martyrs from the last century. In both cases these Christian witnesses were victims of brutal political systems that believed that the Gospel of Jesus was a threat to their power. Pope St. Sixtus II (August 7) and St. Lawrence the deacon (August 10) were killed by Roman authorities. St. Sixtus, along with four deacons, was beheaded while he offered the Eucharist in the catacombs of Rome. Three days later St. Lawrence was famously roasted to death over a grill after a life of caring for the needs of the poor. St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, whose birth name was Edith Stein (August 9) and Maximillian Kolbe (August 14) both died in Nazi concentration camps during World War II.

What all these martyrs have in common is that they could have avoided losing their lives, but chose not to. Pope Sixtus could have hid or escaped the persecution, but instead he went to where the authorities knew he would be, celebrating the Mass, which was forbidden by law. Lawrence could have handed over the sacred chalices and other religious objects, but instead he sold them, giving the money to the poor.  When asked to hand over the “treasure of the Church,” Lawrence presented the Roman official with the poor and homeless who had gathered with him. Edith Stein could have used her status as a Carmelite nun to win her freedom from the concentration camp, but chose to stay with her people: a Jew who died witnessing for Christ. Maximilian Kolbe, a Franciscan friar, could have minded his own business, but instead volunteered to take the place of a condemned man, since that man had a wife and family. Each in their own way did not avoid the trial the Lord presented them with, but faced hate with the greatest love of all.

We must always remember that we should never seek out martyrdom. It is also true that no one has to die a martyr. If it can be avoided, then we should avoid it. But if we are faced with a situation where avoiding martyrdom would mean publicly denying Jesus, then we should ask for the grace to accept it. Christian martyrdom means accepting violence and hatred, not inflicting it. Someone who kills himself and others in the name of God isn’t a martyr. But the one, who out of love, surrenders his or her life rather than denying the faith is an example for all of us.

Reflections of the Meaning and Legacy of the Civil War, Part I

Getting ready for a reenactment

It was only in 2015 that our nation concluded its four year observance of the 150th anniversary of the Civil War. While I didn't follow the progression of battle anniversaries with any particular devotion, it was hard for me to remain totally oblivious. One of my Salesian confrere is a Civil War reenactor, complete with officer's uniform, a military hat with plumage and a set of 19th century vestments that he uses while celebrating Mass for the "troops." He even has a sword. (He represents the Union army, in case you're wondering). He didn't get to all the battlefields for their respective commemorations, but it was kind of fun following his comings and goings via Facebook. When he's not ministering to the sons of the Army of the Potomac, he goes to schools, in full regalia, to give a presentation to the children. He even got a few of his fellow  reenactors to come to our high school in New York to stage a little skirmish in the parking lot one time. 

This intense interest in the Civil War may seem like an obsession to some, but Fr. Dave isn't alone in his fascination with this bloodiest of American wars. I've known many men who have made themselves amateur historians on the conflict (I'm sure there are some women too, but I haven't run into any). They can tell you, in detail, the state and county of origin of particular regiments, the movements of the armies, troop strengths, commanding officers, strategies employed and maneuvers that failed, along with casualty numbers, and they often go off on rather detailed narratives of the events. The best ones can fool you into thinking that they were really there, at Manassas, at Antietam, at Gettysburg, during the heat of battle, their command of the information is so great. 

This dedication to keeping alive the memory of a conflict is only rivaled by some people's interest in World War II. But war was a "simpler" thing in the 1860's. It's much harder, to say the least, to reenact the Battle of Midway, or the D-Day landings than it is to re-stage Pickett's Charge. Getting your hands on a Civil War period rifle isn't easy, but I defy you to get your hands on a Higgins Boat and a couple of aircraft carriers, and then get yourself half way around the world to where the battles were fought. The Civil War was fought right in the continental United States, using technology that can be more easily reproduced or refurbished and obtained. What's more it was a war between American, and the bromide that it was a matter of brother against brother is true. It changed forever how the U.S. views itself. As was pointed out in Ken Burns' land mark documentary, prior to the war people would say, "the United States are," and after we say "the United States is." In other words, it settled the question as to where a citizen's primary loyalty should be directed - to their state or to the Federal Government (or, so it seems). The fact that this was a family war, fought in localities within driving distance to most people in the eastern part of the country; that we can walk the fields where so many lost their lives, and relive, even if in a shadowy way, the events of that time, only increases the sense of intimacy and urgency that devotees feel toward the conflict. 

In spite of the war ending in 1865, the argument continues, though, as to why the war was fought. As was the case with every good school boy growing up the Northeast in the 1970's, I was taught that it was a war to free the slaves. We were taught not to despise Robert E. Lee, in particular, and while I can't say that the Confederacy was portrayed as evil, they were clearly on the wrong side, defending the evil, oppressive institution of slavery. It was also the time when the TV mini-series Roots appeared on ABC, depicting the horrors of slavery, from capture in Africa, through the Middle Passage and onto the the plantations. It was required viewing for students of all ages. By today's standard it's pretty tame stuff, but in 1977 it was considered shocking. It too pretty much followed the narrative that the war was about freeing slaves.

As I don't need to say, most historians today dispute this interpretation of events. They will say that the North was fighting to preserve the Union, and the South was fighting to protect the sovereign rights of the individual states against federal incursion. Lincoln, far from being a die hard abolitionist, said that if liberating the slaves would hold the Union together, he's do it, but if keeping slavery legal accomplished the same ends, he's do that. And if a solution came around that set some slaves free and kept others in bondage, he's go for that, too. On the Confederate side, most people didn't own slaves, and didn't necessarily see it as an issue, apart from the notion that they were Virginians, Alabamans or Georgians first, and the central government needed to stop meddling in the internal affairs of the states. As the most famous, and articulate, amateur historian of the war, the late Shelby Foote, put it, the attitude of the average Confederate soldier toward his Unionist counterpart was, "I'm fighting, because you're down here." 

I have always had a problem with the "slavery had nothing to do with the Civil War" argument that I sometimes hear (and yes, some people, some otherwise pretty smart people, do speak that way). It's not because it contradicts the narrative of my youth, but that it flies in the face certain realities. Some of the southern states had tried to secede during the time of Andrew Jackson over protective tariffs that hurt their cotton trade with Europe. That movement never really got anywhere. In giving it's reasons for secession in December of 1860, South Carolina's declaration did indeed discuss state's rights, but always in the light of the slave issue. The problem, rooted in slavery's inherent contradiction with the Declaration of Independents' claim the all men are created equal, imbued with certain inalienable rights, particularly life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, had been kicked down the road since the nation's founding. There had been legislative compromises, Supreme Court decisions and even de facto civil wars in the territories leading up to the conflict - all revolving around slavery. Abolitionist John Brown's failed 1859 raid on Harper's Ferry, to steal weapons meant to arm slaves for a rebellion, polarized the country and set the South on edge, convincing many that civil war was inevitable. Yes, the Confederacy appealed to the principle of states rights in making their case for secession, but they weren't citing some vague notions about federal tariffs or over regulation to justify their course of action. It was that their rights to "private property," in the form of human beings held in bondage, was being endangered by the federal government. To say that slavery had nothing to do with the Civil War is sort of like saying a person's cancer had nothing to do with his demise because the death certificate says that he died of septic shock. Well, he wouldn't have gone into shock if he hadn't had cancer, and I doubt the southern states would have been so motivated to secession if slavery, and the immediate economic implications of its abolition, hadn't been in play. 

What I'm saying is that this is a complicated issue, and as the aforementioned Shelby Foote also said, it's just as foolish to say that slavery had everything to do with the Civil War as it is to say it had nothing to do with it. The world isn't that simple. 

Here we are, a century and a half later, still fighting over the legacy of the war, what it's symbols mean, and even the nature of what the Union is, and if secession is possible. At the same time progressives are now calling for the removal and destruction of Confederate monuments, and the permanent banishing of the Confederate Battle Flag, others, particularly in California, are calling for secession in light of the election of President Trump. Ironically, these activists are at once condemning the Confederacy while at the same time some in their ranks are seeking to follow the Old South's goals of separation from the federal government. These are, as I've already stated, complicated questions. I agree with those who think that we are in the process of foolishly erasing our history, and we shouldn't be so quick to want to tear down statues and deface monuments. But just as we have to make an honest assessment as to what the causes of the Civil War were, we also have to understand what the symbols of that war meant at the time, and how they may have been later appropriated in such a way as to render them unusable. We are still fighting the American Civil War because, just as the problem of slavery was kicked down the road prior to the war, the process of reconciliation, integration and reparation after the war was botched. On these questions I will opine the next time out

St. John Bosco Parish Bulletin Letter for August 13, 2017

There are many joys and blessings I experience as a priest. From baptizing babies to officiating at weddings the Lord has allowed me to share in special moments of grace in the lives of the families  we serve. In the Sacrament of Reconciliation I help reunite a wounded soul with Christ.  Even funerals, as sad as they are, allow me to comfort and reassure people who are passing through a dark time, to let them know that the grave is not the end, that Jesus holds out for us the promise of eternal life. 

But there is one service I and the other Salesians here perform that I find hard to take comfort in, or find joy. It is when we have to offer the funeral rites for a young person killed on the streets of our community. To have to stand by the grave of a 20 or 21 year old, and see the tears of his or her mother, and hear her screams cuts me through my heart. Sometimes the victims are gang members. Sometimes they are friends who get caught in the middle of a dispute. Sometimes, like a young man who I buried out of St. Philomena’s last year, was just walking home from work, targeted for no reason in particular. Being off the street doesn't always insure our safety.  We have all read about children and others who are shot by stray bullets while sitting at home. While we live in one of the safer neighborhoods of Chicago we are not immune from this scourge. I find no comfort in the idea that we do fewer of these types of funerals than other parishes. The bitterness of the tears and the sting of a mother’s cries doesn't allow me that consolation.

I write this sobering message this week, because as we begin our new catechetical year I would like us to reflect a bit as a community. How are we already helping to form our young people to value life? How are we already instilling in them, both at home and in our parish, the values of respect for others and the need to resolve conflicts peacefully? How are showing them that the life of the gangs leads to death, and that there is another way to live? We need to reflect on how we are doing these things now, and how can we do them better in the future.

Cardinal Cupich has recently begun an anti-violence campaign for the archdiocese. Much like we have made great strides in organizing Pro-Life and Pastoral Migratoria initiatives in the parish, we need to join with the Cardinal in his efforts to offer a faith filled response to the problem of street violence we face.  I will be speaking with members of the community about forming a new ant-violence group in the parish. We should not think that this is a South Side problem. I know first hand that it isn't. But united in Christ, I have confidence that we can make a difference, and maybe we can keep one more mother from mourning her child. 

Two Cinematic Visions of War: Dunkirk / Wonder Woman

British soldiers at Dunkirk - Hoping for the best, expecting the worst.

Wonder Woman and her band of brothers 

I recently saw the new movie Dunkirk, and earlier in the summer I caught Wonder Woman. Both movies got me thinking about war movies in general, and couple in particular from twenty years ago. 

Two war movies released in 1998 forever changed the genre in their depictions of the violence, chaos and moral ambiguities of combat. Both set during World War II, Steven Spielberg's Saving Private Ryan and, to a lesser extent, Terrence Malick's Thin Red Line offered sober meditations on the impact of battle on the minds, souls and bodies of the men who were sent to fight. Private Ryan is graphic in its depiction of severed limbs and disemboweled soldiers (I heard stories at the time of D-Day veterans walking out of the theater during the first 20 minutes because the depiction of the Omaha Beach landings hit too close to home), while Thin Red Line focused on the spiritual cost of war, and the corroding loss of both personal and cosmic innocence it brings. Much like Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ permanently effected how we judge filmed lives of Jesus, these two movies are the contemporary gold standard of war films. 

Both films pull off a difficult trick: they honor the men who fought, while showing war as an ugly, senseless experience, stripping battle of the glorious romance with which Hollywood often can't help but paint combat. Thin Red Line, based on a James Jones novel, is more openly contemptuous of military leaders and shows how war turns otherwise average, decent men into amoral killers capable of pulling the gold fillings out of an injured belligerent's mouth while he's still alive. Private Ryan only hints at these things, choosing to use the impact of bullets and shells on flesh and bone to drive home war's dehumanizing effect. 

At this point you may be asking, "What does all this have to do with Dunkirk and, especially, Wonder Woman?" 

Even without taking into account the cultural impact of the earlier film, It was hard for me to watch Dunkirk and not make comparison's to Private Ryan: both films deal with soldiers trapped on a beach during World War II (though Spielberg's film does eventually break free of the coastline). Both stories are told mainly from the stand point of the "grunt" soldiers who actually shed blood. Both filter historical events through the eyes of fictional characters meant to represent the experiences of the millions who served. Both were filmed in muted, under-saturated color tones which adds to the bleakness of their respective situations - and in Private Ryan's case blunts the excessive gore a bit. 

But while Dunkirk easily lends itself to surface comparisons with Private Ryan, a closer look also reveals similarities to Thin Red Line. Though Dunkirk runs at a compact 106 minutes compared to Malick's film that sprawls itself over more than 2 and a half hours, it's sparse dialogue and extended silences, much like the earlier movie, lends itself to a more meditative viewing. We see heroism, for sure, but we also see men under pressure, turning on each other as well as their allies. We see desperate men willing to pull any trick they can to get on a boat home. Though the futility of war and the incompetence of the men who run the high command isn't on full display as it is in Thin Red Line, there is frustration felt because of the catch-22 the leaders are trapped in. They don't commit the full force of the navy or air force to the evacuation because they need to prepare for the defense of the home island, yet no significant defense can be mounted without the 400,000 soldiers trapped on the beaches of northers France. 

Director Christopher Nolan cuts a thin line of his own in how he tells his story. While his film lacks the ultra violence of Spielberg's, it is presented in a realistic style, unlike Malick who used extended static shots to capture the natural beauty of his South Pacific setting, creating an allegory of the Western war machine despoiling the original innocence of the native peoples. That being said, Nolan does use cinematic tricks like playing with the timeline, following three different sets of characters, one group over the course of a week, the other covering a day, and lastly over an hour. We cut back and forth, and events over lap and finally converge, and what could have been confusing in the hands of a lesser film maker is executed perfectly by Nolan. He also utilizes sound quite effectively, differentiating between the noises made by British and "enemy" aircraft to communicate both reassurance or dread as is needed. He also mixes mechanical sounds with music to heighten the sense of menace. He's not presenting an allegory, nor does the film deal in symbols, but Nolan's sparse script makes him utilize other methods of communicating the desperation and horror of the situation the British soldiers find themselves in. 

I've always been fairly critical of Christopher Nolan's work because I think his ideas aren't nearly as profound as his supporters would have us believe. That the man knows what he's doing with a camera and in the editing room is unquestioned. That he is a master of special effects is also true. I just don't think that films like Inception or Interstellar are as deep as some claim, even if they are undeniably well made, and at times truly thrilling. As for a message, I'm not sure exactly what Nolan is saying here (more on that in due time). All I can say right now is that he made an historical drama, set very much in the real world, when he works mainly in science fiction and super hero fantasy, and pulls it off convincingly. Dunkirk clearly shows the depth of his talent. 

I will admit that I wasn't thinking of the two 1998 films detailed above while watching Wonder Woman, but after seeing and reflecting on Dunkirk, my mind began thinking of this other film as well, and comparisons to both Private Ryan and Thin Red Line came to me. 

Wonder Woman is correctly categorized as a comic book movie, but beneath that beats heart a war drama. The film makers transplant the story from the World War II of it's comic book origins to the First World War, for reasons that are not completely clear. It could be that the Second World War has the stench of genocide hanging over it. No matter how hard revisionists try to indite the allied nations of war crimes for the fire bombings of Dresden and Tokyo, not to mention the atomic bombs dropped on Japan, Nazi Germany and the Empire of Japan were the clear aggressors in a war of empire building. The Nazi's guilty of horrors beyond imagining. The plot of Wonder Woman depends of the idea that there really aren't "good guys" or "bad guys," just fallen humanity trapped in a cycle of violence that needs to be broken. It's possible to make this argument with World War I, a conflict whose causes are as mysterious as the origin of Melchizedek of old. We think of the Germans as the enemy because they were our enemy, and they lost. But the Germany of the Kaiser wasn't the Third Reich of Hitler, and trying to make his regime look misguided but well intentioned would be rightly mocked.


In Wonder Woman, much like in Thin Red Line, we have a central character who sees the world with wide eyed wonder. In the older film it's the army private played by Jim Caviezel who observes the innocence of the native South Sea Islanders and the unspoiled nature of their homeland, and through it perceives that there is a deeper reality at work: a spiritual reality that is enduring, if fragile. In Wonder Woman, Diana has spent her life isolated on a mythic island and knows of human nature from books. Her experience of war and violence is the controlled environment of the training ground. When she leaves her native paradise she is at once captivated by what she sees and repulsed by the pollution and squalor, the byproducts of human progress. As she moves closer to the real fighting she sees the consequences of war for the first time: the maimed and the dead, the refugees displaced from their homes. Once she actually engages in fighting she sees first hand the random, uncontrollable brutality of war.

Wonder Woman may be a comic book fantasy, but in some ways it makes deeper observations than Dunkirk. Diana is forced to grow, to shed her idealistic, black and white world view. At the same time she doesn't give in to cynicism. She sees humanity's flaws, yet recognizes its divine potentiality. She is faced by a personified evil in the form of the god Ares, but comes to understand that, much like Satan, he only sets the scene, manipulates the situation, whispers in our ears, but in the end it is men and women who make their free choice for good or bad. And taking him out of the equation, while helpful, doesn't always insure that we will make the right decision. 

Dunkirk, like Private Ryan, is more concerned with the men on the ground doing the fighting and the dying than it is with the big picture of the war or deep philosophical questions (though, in fairness, Spielberg does pepper his film with moral dilemmas). It is a salute to the soldiers, and even more so to the everyday private citizens who came to their rescue at great risk to their own lives. As I mentioned before, it's not an idealized picture: these men are human and at times crack under pressure. In the end Dunkirk shows how a nation united can overcome great adversity. Though muted, it is a great patriotic film that almost makes me sad not to be British.

In spite of a very enthusiastic recommendation, like just about all of the Christopher Nolan films I've seen, it left me feeling like something was missing. As I was watching the film I couldn't help but thinking that if an audience member knows nothing about the Dunkirk evacuation, they would be very confused. We are dropped onto the beach at the beginning with very little preparation and almost no exposition. The Nazi forces are only referred to as "the enemy," and that they are Germans is only mentioned during a xenophobic tirade by one of the British soldiers. They are only seen at the end, and then in out of focus shadows. Hints are made about fighting for the survival of the civilized world, but otherwise the stakes build down to the survival of the men pined down on the beach. The characters are never really developed, so I cared because I knew what was going on, not because of any emotional investment in the individual soldiers.

My cynical side tells me that they want to be able to sell this movie in Germany, so going too heavy into some pro British jingoistic schmalz would be bad for the Teutonic box-office. More likely we have a case of political correctness, that doesn't believe in drawing moral distinctions between combatants: we're both good, and are both also guilty of atrocities big or small, so we shouldn't demonize the enemy. I think this approach can be validly taken in many situations, like in the case of Wonder Woman. World War I was a failure of both sides. While the Allies in WWII were guilty of atrocities (we shouldn't fool ourselves), to not recognize that the differences between the Allies and the Axis were not just a matter of degrees but essence is moral blindness. It's true that not every German soldier was a genocidal maniac, but, knowingly or not, he was fighting to expand the interest of an imperialistic genocidal maniac. If you can't demonize a demon, the culture is really lost.

I don't want to leave you all with the idea that I didn't like Dunkirk or thought that Wonder Woman is a better film. These are two different movies, with two different target audiences (lets just say that I was one of the youngest audience members for Dunkirk, and one of the oldest ones for Wonder Woman). While Dunkirk is the better technical and aesthetic exercise, in someways Wonder Woman asks the deeper questions. Both, in their own ways, follows in the tradition of Saving Private Ryan and Thin Red Line, in presenting the horrors and ambiguities of war while honoring the men and women who served.  

Bl. Maria Romero Meneses, FMA (7/7/17) Apostleship of Prayer

More Musings on the "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" 50th Anniversary Remix (Extended Deluxe Supercalifragilistic Edition)

Now that we have some of the the background out of the way, what can we say about Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band as a collection of songs? My take on listening to the record again, after a few years, is that it actually functions more as a commentary on the place the four Beatles found themselves in 1967 than it does as a reflection on or of the broader culture - which is how it's usually seen. 

Conventional wisdom often ties the beginning of the Beatles' break up to the sudden death of their manager Brian Epstein in late August 1967, almost two months after Pepper's release. Others will trace it to the appearance of Yoko Ono as a permanent presence in John Lennon's life in 1968. I would argue the disintegration had begun long before either of these two events. While the Sgt. Pepper's sessions weren't necessarily tense like the ones for The Beatles - better known as The White Album (1968) or Let it Be (recorded January 1969, released spring 1970), band unity was already fraying. George Harrison was a frequent no show in the studio, and only contributed one song. He would later say that he never really got behind the basic Sgt. Pepper's concept, and that his head was still in India where he had became enamored of the Subcontinent's music and Eastern spirituality. Ringo complained of having extended breaks between takes, to the point that the ample downtime afforded him the opportunity to learn chess. Even John Lennon would complain later that this was a Paul McCartney driven album, and indeed he was the main songwriter on only 4 of the 13 tracks, though his fingerprints are evident throughout.

As I've written before, the Beatles are usually thought of as the positive, slightly cheeky, progenitors of the '60's flower power movement: the white hat wearing good guys to the black hat wearing Rolling Stones. It's safe to say that they didn't start the hippie movement, but they became agents of it, even if they didn't necessarily see themselves as being a part of it. And, while there is a veneer of peace and love to their music, I would also argue that Sgt. Pepper's shows that there was more than a little discontent bubbling underneath the surface. 

The album gets off to a sunny enough start, with the hard rocking title track segueing into With a Little Help From My Friends, featuring Ringo Starr on vocals. The new mix brings out the guitars, especially the lead guitar, on the Pepper's intro.  

Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds comes next, a fanciful track full of surreal images sung with a certain detachment by Lennon. All I'll say about the controversy surrounding Lucy in the Sky, is that it's possible for two things to be true at the same time: it's possible that John's son Julian drew a picture at school that inspired Lennon (as he always contended), and that his experiences with LSD informed the shape and direction of the inspiration. As I said, there seems to be a certain detached weariness in Lennon's voice, with some minor flourishes in the phrasing thrown in that break up the monotone delivery. These are fantastic images he recounts, yet he doesn't seem amazed. It's only McCartney's anthemic chanting on the chorus that offers any enthusiastic spark.

Getting Better is one of the true Lennon-McCartney collaborations where both men seem to have had an equal share in the writing (there's much debate about how much the two actually wrote together, as opposed to presenting mostly finished products to one another for final touches). In this case we have Paul's sunny outlook (I have to admit it's getting better / a little better / all the time) clashing with Lennon's caustic irony (It couldn't get more worse). The versus speak of foolish rules at school, beating girlfriends and blinding teen angst. Though the singer claims that his life is turning around, it's hard to let go of the jarring imagery that seems so out of place on a Beatles record.

Fixing a Hole is a self proclaimed "ode to pot," by Paul, in which he extols the mind expanding benefits of cannabis, in albeit very veiled language. Got to Get You Into My Life from their previous album Revolver, another unlikely tribute to marijuana, is an upbeat, Motown inspired romp that most of us took as being about the first rush of falling in love. Fixing a Hole, on the other hand, plods along, punctuating the verses with complaints about silly people fussing and fighting, wondering why the singer won't let them in. This is not someone who feels the urgency to let someone (or something) into his life, but very much wants to keep others out.  


She's Leaving Home sees Paul pulling a maneuver usually done expertly by John Lennon, namely writing a song based on a news article he read. This story of a disaffected runaway is based on a true story, but in real life the girl was sent back home by authorities. I've always found this track very frustrating. It's beautifully performed by a small string ensemble (no Beatles were actually involved with the playing of instruments). The vocals, featuring McCartney on the verses and Lennon on the chorus, are spot on. The lyrics are brilliant. That is, until we get to the end. I always found the great reveal: that the girl ran away because she wanted to have "fun" to be a banal, anticlimactic ending to an otherwise sublime song. I mean, Cyndi Lauper made the exact same observation about what girls want 16 years later and no one accused her of being a genius.

Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite! is one of those example of Lennon not being able to catch a break. Like with Lucy, he was accused of making drug references (this time related to heroin), but unlike the previous song I'm willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. The words were taken, pretty much verbatim, from a 19th century circus poster he bought in an antique shop. Nonetheless people still accused him of writing a "drug" song. It's easy to understand why, since the track utilizes all sorts of tape loops, backward masking, among other assorted studio tricks, backed by hypnotic organ parts played by producer George Martin. The lyrics are certainly not about drugs, but the overall atmosphere is rather trippy, which lead people to conclude that if it walks like a duck...well, you get it. 

Side two open's up the George Harrison's lone song writing contribution to Pepper, the Indian influenced Within You Without You. As with She's Leaving Home, no other Beatles play instruments, and only Harrison sings, along with playing the tambura, sitar and, acoustic guitar. He's backed by a group of London based Indian musicians, along with a western string quartet. George Martin thought it would be interesting to mix the classical instruments of the two cultures together, something that had never been done before. The lyrics, heavily influenced by Hindu philosophy, with a dash of the Gospel, speak of the world of illusion we live in, and the need to break down the barriers that stand between us. We can indeed change to world with love, but will lose our souls if we try to possess it.

When I'm Sixty-Four is a song McCartney wrote when he was 16, and was one of the first recorded for the album in December of '66. It's a light, fluffy piece, showing Sir Paul's love for the British music hall tradition he'd picked up from his father, who'd been an amateur musician, and who also happened to turn 64 years old when the band recorded it.

The next two tracks, Lovely Rita and Good Morning Good Morning, are often dismissed by critics, and yet are two of my personal favorites by the band. I see McCartney (on Rita) and Lennon (on Morning) approaching the material with heavy doses of irony, playing off old pop music tropes with tongue firmly in cheek. Lovely Rita pokes fun at traditional love at first sight pop song, with it's whimsical serenading of a meter maid. The Beatles had been around the world a few times by this point, their vision was expanding beyond the limits of what was usually sung about by pop acts, as evidenced by earlier track on both Pepper and Revolver. A few years before, Paul may have written this with a bit more earnestness, but now he gives way to total absurdist whimsey. In a way, he's saying goodbye here, affectionately, to the silly love songs of his youth that he's outgrown.  

Good Morning Good Morning is a less than sentimental look back at the protagonist's teenage years, through the prism of a man dissatisfied with the place he's presently at in life as well. There really isn't much here lyrically, but I always "felt" that Lennon was saying a lot by way of the arraignment and the few sparse lines he does offer. The use of brass and drums, reminiscent of a high school marching band, with references to visiting the old school, and going to a show hoping for a chance meeting with a certain girl, recall the awkwardness of adolescent school days. Going back only reminds him of how much he hated it, yet he's unhappy with his present workaday life as well. The existential angst is punctuated by a blistering guitar solo (played by Paul). As the track careens to a raucous ending, we hear the sounds of animals stampeding. The procession is arranged in such a way as to suggest smaller creatures being trampled or devoured by larger beasts, culminating in the sound of fox hounds being spurred on by horses and the cry of a bugle. In other words life is just a matter of keeping one step ahead of what's trying to crush you: it's not exactly, All You Need is Love.

The Sgt. Pepper's Reprise, the last vestige of the original alter ego concept, energetically leads us to the end of the album, and the band's crowning achievement: A Day in the Life.

An entire book could be written about A Day in the Life, never mind a blog post, but I'll just offer a few scattered reflections here. It's arranged in disjointed sections, sung alternately by John, in the weary detachment he employs through the LP, and then by the peppy, if not quite enthusiastic, Paul. John reflects on the death of a man in a car crash (based on Tara Browne, the Guinness brewery heir who was killed at 21), the opening of a war movie, and the news report on the poor condition of the roads in a Northern town. These are three disparate fragments that come together to show a man's ambivalence with life. The story of the man's death is sad, yet he laughs at a photo of the fatal wreck. The crowd finds the war movie distasteful, but he feels compelled to see it. The government counting of potholes is just plain absurd. After the second of John's vignettes we have an orchestral bridge made of a chaotic progression building upward to a plateau where we meet McCartney offering a more prosaic image of a man beginning his day. But the groundedness doesn't last, as our everyman wage slave goes off "into a dream" after taking a smoke (of what, I'll leave to your imagination). We float back to Lennon singing about the Lancastrian potholes, them we're off once more on our cacophony of sound, again building, finally reaching a dizzying climax punctuated by multiple pianos and a harmonium simultaneously hitting an E-major cord.  

The song is primarily a work of John Lennon, with strong contributions by McCartney, and Ringo Starr providing affective drum fills. Ringo may not have been flashy like Keith Moon or technically expert like Ginger Baker, but he had the most heart, and feel for the emotion of a song, and it's on full display here. 

A Day in the Life, like the rest of Sgt. Pepper's is disorientating and a bit disorientated. It's the work of four men who have just come to end of a major phase of their lives, and are wondering where to go from here. With the end of touring Beatlemania was over. Harrison, as well as being uncomfortable with his celebrity status, was unhappy with being a junior partner in the band (the way the group's publishing contract was structured had Lennon and McCartney earning more on songs written by Harrison than Harrison did). The "Quiet Beatle" was overheard to say on the plane ride back to the UK after their last show in San Francisco, "I guess I'm not a Beatle anymore." Lennon was also disillusioned with fame. Though he had a supporting role the movie How I Won the War,  filmed in Spain in the fall of '66, according to his ex-wife he otherwise spent most of those early post touring months hanging out at home, watching soap operas and the nightly news. He was in a marriage he wanted out of, and a band he was quickly losing interest in.

Paul was arguably the only one really interested in keeping the band going. But he wasn't content to just keep on doing the same thing though. The famed cover, which he had a big hand in planning, features cutouts of the Beatle's heroes in the background, also has wax figures of the "old," matching dark suit wearing, clean shaved Mop Tops from a few years before set to one side, with the flesh and blood Beatles, dressed in their colorful mock military uniforms, with individualized haircuts and facial hair, front and center. Some have speculated if they aren't actually arranged in front of a tomb where the Fab Four of I Want to Hold Your Hand fame are being buried and a new incarnation of the group is being born. 

Whatever the truth, Sgt. Pepper's isn't an ode to the Summer of Love as the popular myth would have it. Magical Mystery Tour, a combination sound track, compilation album released later in the year is more representative of the '60's utopian mythos that bloomed in the months after Pepper's release. This a very personal statement made by young men still searching for their way in life. There are major dark shades between the silver linings, and foreshadowing of the eventual end of the Beatles that was only a couple years away. 

***

As for this new edition, Giles Martin, George Martin's son, oversaw the remixing, and he got it right. The music is much brighter, with the guitars ringing, chugging and grinding higher up in the mix. Generally there is a depth of sound that earlier generations of CD transfers have lacked. It's a minor point, but there are effects, sung lines and phrases that were either muddled or inaudible previously that jump out at you here. Yet, in spite of all this "tinkering" the album still sounds like the Sgt. Pepper's fans have always known and loved - just more so. 

I've actually heard complaints about the "cleanness" of the sound. There are times when an artist and producer are going for a more muddled, rugged sound. The Rolling Stones' Exile on Main Street is a famous example. It's true, as legend has it, that many of Exile's basic tracks were recorded in the basement of Keith Richards' French chateau over several weeks in the summer of 1971. The resulting album, released a year later, is a collection of dark blues and country influenced rock that, in deed, sounds like it was recorded in somebody's basement - though not necessarily in France. What's not so well known is that much of what was recorded in Richards' basement didn't make the final cut, and the band ended up spending even more time in record studios in London and Los Angeles to get it to sound that way. They wanted that dark, muddled sound, and for a future producer to clean it up would be equal to colorizing Citizen Kane or putting lip stick on the Mona Lisa. 

In the case of Pepper's, the Beatles were looking to experiment with various sounds, tape effects and instrumentations. They had begun to really explore the possibilities of what could be achieved in a studio the in 1966 with Revolver. Now, freed from concert touring, they had the time and motivation to do just that. This new mix strikes that fine balance between improving the overall quality of sound, while preserving the essence of the original recording fans are familiar with.

Musings on the "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" 50th Anniversary Remix (Extended Deluxe Supercalifragilistic Edition) - Part I

We were gifted at the beginning of the month with the reissue of a refurbished and expanded edition of the Beatles' 1967 album Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. There are several different packages to choose from, from a "super deluxe" edition featuring 6 discs of music and video, to one that contains a vinyl LP pressing, all the way down to a two disk collection featuring a remix of the original album, plus a disk of alternate takes. I went for the $14 download of the basic package from iTunes. It also includes remixes of the songs Strawberry Fields Forever and Penny Lane. All this is to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the albums original release.

There is a mix of legend, reverence, with more than a touch of contrarianism, surrounding Sgt. Pepper's legacy. It's generally hailed as a cultural touch stone - a snapshot of a brief moment when the culture was shifting, and Rock music was beginning to be taken seriously as an artistic form. It's also very popular to acknowledge the cultural importance of Sgt. Pepper's while dismissing it as a piece of work - that it's actually a terrible album, or at least that it isn't the best LP that the Beatles ever put out. Well, as my saintly Italian grandmother used to say as she was rolling out the cavatelli over a large wood board on her kitchen table, de gustibus non disputandum est. While pointless, it's still fun to argue about matters of taste, and I will here, as well as discuss the cultural impact of Peppa (as John Lennon used to call it), as well as my take on the new mix. 

Sgt. Pepper's was produced by the band, and their producer George Martin, following a turbulent 1966 world tour, that saw the Fab Four quit the stage, as it ended up, forever. It was released in time for what became known as the Summer of Love, in June the following year: a moment when hippie idealism was at it's height, and the youth counterculture went mainstream. The Beatles had long been discontented with doing personal appearances, since it seemed like no one was really listening, and they couldn't even hear themselves play over the screams of the fans. They had already begun to explore the possibilities of what could be done in a recording studio on Rubber Soul (1965) and, especially, Revolver (1966), often cutting tracks that couldn't be reproduced on stage with contemporary technology. Now, without the pressure of touring, or having to limit their arraignments to guitars, bass and drums, the Beatles went to work in late fall 1966, spending a then unheard of five months and, by some accounts, close to $100,000 on the project. 

Paul McCartney is credited with coming up with the idea of making a concept album, something new to Rock music. Since they had stopped touring, they would make an album and send it out on tour. They would assume new identities that would allow them to do things musically they ordinarily wouldn't. 

There was also a subtext of nostalgia to the project. The first two tracks that they worked on, Strawberry Fields Forever and Penny Lane, were odes to places they used to hang out at during their childhoods in Liverpool. Due to pressure from management and their record label, the songs were released as a double A-side single in February 1967. Following the custom prevalent in the UK at the time, that saw including single releases on LP's as cheating the public, neither made the final cut of the album. George Martin always regretted this decision, and said that they should have included them, making Sgt. Pepper's a double album instead of the single disk.  

In the end, Sgt. Pepper's really isn't a concept album. The two songs that could have helped form a thematic bridge were left off, and the band quickly lost interest in the song cycle idea. Apart from the title track and reprise, which semi-bookend the record, the songs don't follow a particular theme straight through. In terms of sound, the band does go full psychedelic, which was only hinted at in previous recordings. They utilized crossfading from song to song on some tracks, as opposed to the normal two or three second gaps, which is often the hallmark of concept albums. But these are stylistic touches that conceal the fact each song stands on it's own.

Though it wasn't a concept album in the true sense, it did influence other groups to follow that path. Later in the year the Moody Blues put out Days of Future Passed, a song cycle that brought us allegorically through the various stages of life using the 24 hour day as its conceit. The LP features orchestral arraignments between rock tracks, leaving no gaps between songs. The Kinks put out two thematically linked albums, The Kinks Are the Village Green Preservation Society and Arthur (Or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire) in 1968 and '69, respectively. The Small Faces put out Ogdens' Nut Gone Flake, a number one album in the UK in 1968, which featured a psychedelic fairy story that filled the second side of the LP. The Who's Tommy in 1969 went so far as to bill itself as a Rock Opera. And though writer guitarist Pete Townsend had been tinkering with the idea of producing an extended piece for some time, there's not doubt that the success of Sgt. Pepper's gave him and The Who's record label the impetus to see it through. In the following decade the likes of The Electric Light Orchestra and, most especially, Pink Floyd would make their bread and butter from the concept album, as well as utilizing the studio tricks the Beatles perfected on Pepper's. 

***

But what about the album itself? As I wrote, this isn't a concept album in the true sense, but if we listen closely we can here a band that is at once at the top of it's game, and beginning to come apart. I'll give a song by song overview of the album the next time out.

Holy Trinity (6/11/17) from AOP

Bishop Barron on Silence and the Meaning of the Mass

St Philip Neri (5/26/17) Apostleship of Prayer

The Don Bosco Option, Part I

Many Christians look at the situation in the world today and want to escape.  They lose heart when they see the violence, injustice and materialism of modern life. With the popular redefinition of marriage, the continued assault on the unborn in the womb and general disrespect for the sanctity of human life that’s far too common they wonder how much farther our country can move away from the Culture of Life. We see that the culture is no longer influenced by Gospel values as it once was, and wonder if it’s possible anymore to be active, engaged and faithful citizens. Some call for Christians to separate themselves, living in small, isolated communities, only engaging in public life when it’s necessary to defend religious liberty. They say that we should follow the example of St. Benedict of Nurcia, the father of Western monasticism, whose monasteries served as refuges that preserved Christian faith and culture as the Roman world was crumbling around them. Then, when the current society collapses, the Church will be ready to reemerge to put the pieces of a broken culture back together again, in the same way the Benedictine monasteries did so many centuries ago. 

There is a popular book out now called The Benedict Option by Rod Dreher, in which the author makes this kind of proposal. I want to be fair: Dreher is not some kind of Christian survivalist who thinks we should literally move to the mountains, stockpiling food and water, while we await the apocalypse. But he does feel that we need to come together as believers, living is small, intentional communities so as to preserve Christian culture amidst the shifting tides of our unstable society. He compares it to people seeking the metaphorical high ground during a severe storm, huddling together, sharing their resources, both material and spiritual, until the tempest passes and it's safe to go outside again. Then the "survivors" can emerge to sift through the wreckage to reconstruct a new Christian civilization. 

Again, he's not talking about total separation from the mainstream, but a tactical retreat from the culture, so we have space to preserve the faith and pass it on. He would limit our political involvement to more or less advocating for religious liberty, and maybe speaking out on some other issues, but that's about it. Dreher has admitted in interviews that his tone in the book is extreme, but he feels that we are in desperate times, so he needs to be a bit alarmist to get people's attention. While there is much I find good in the book, I'm not sure if I can sign on with the Benedict Option, as its presented here. Even though he goes to great pains to say that he's not advocating the complete self ghettoizing of Christians, it can come off that way. I would like to propose a different way. We can call it “The Don Bosco Option.” 

St. John Bosco (1815-1888) lived during a time of political, social and religious upheaval in Italy and Europe. The industrial revolution had finally come to the Italian peninsula, which itself was transforming from a mere geographical expression, made up of various principalities and occupied territories into an independent, unified nation. In the rest of Europe, the attempted restoration of the old order after the French Revolution and Napoleonic Wars came to an end, which saw the ultimate victory of constitutional republics over the old absolute monarchies. With these changes the temporal power of the Catholic Church, as it had been exercised and understood previously also came to an end. The newly formed Italian state was in conflict with the Church, placing strict limits on how she could function, and what social and educational services she could give. The state even prohibited the Church from founding new religious orders. It was in this anticlerical atmosphere that Don Bosco struggled to start his educative pastoral project on behalf of the young. 

In a way, Don Bosco’s oratory was a small, intentional community, where young people and those who served them lived the Gospel and preserved culture. It was an island of prayer, where youth could engage in wholesome recreations and learn a trade. They were meant to be a shelter from the increasingly secular society around them, which was losing touch with Gospel values. 

But the boys weren’t meant to live out their entire lives at the Oratory. It was there that they received a well-rounded Christian formation so that they could go out and become involved citizens. They were meant to be a leaven that transformed society, helping to form a true Christian culture. They were to go out, putting into practice the spiritual and practical lessons that they had learned so that they could change the world, a little at a time. As disciples of Christ we aren’t called to simply stay closed in on ourselves, focusing in on a small list of issues that affect us alone. We are called to be voices crying out, preparing for a “Christian Revival,” but not from behind monastery walls. While the monastic vocation is valuable, as Salesians we are called to go out engaging, with joy, the culture, always ready to give reasons for the hope that we have in Christ Jesus (1 Peter 3:15).

Don Bosco, while seeking to shield his boys from the moral dangers of the streets, and the ideological dangers of anticlerical textbooks, going as far as writing his own History of Italy for use at the Oratory, wasn't afraid to work with "the enemy." In formulating the Salesian constitutions he consulted with government officials, including the very author of some of the anticlerical laws, to see how he could formulate a rule that would pass muster with both the state, as well as the Church. 

In all this Don Bosco gives us an example to follow. A Salesian work, be it a school, a parish, a youth center, among the many types of works we run, should form intentional, Christian communities. They should be sanctuaries, where the culture of life is lived. When a student, parishioner or member enters, he or she should have a sense that they are in a different place, guided by different values than those of the world. At the same time they are being prepared to go back out into the world to engage others. They should be ready to live the faith with integrity, while being active, engaged citizens. This engagement can come with dangers and sacrifices. It's not for no reason that there are Salesian martyrs among the saints and blesseds of the Church. While there's still is a need for the Benedictine spirit, and those who embrace it, the Salesian call, and I believe the call for most Christians, is one of membership in an intentional, formative Christian community that leads us to active engagement with the world.  

More thoughts on this to come.

Bishop Barron on Pride, Humility, and Social Media

Peace, Not as the World Gives It - Reflection for Tuesday of the 5th Week of Easter

In the first reading of todays’s Mass (Acts 14:19-28), we hear about only a very few of the many hardships that Paul endured preaching the Gospel. In other places we hear that he is ship wrecked, falls victim to bandits, endures slanders and calumnies at the hands of false brothers.  Here he is stoned to the point that his would-be executioners leave him for dead. Yet he got up, with other disciples around him, and entered the city, an act of defiance in the face of determined opposition. What gave Paul the ability to get up after suffering such harsh treatment was that he possessed the peace of Christ. 

In the Gospel reading (Jn 14:27-31A) Jesus tells his disciples not to be afraid. The satanic "ruler of the world is coming," He is going away, and their faith will be shaken. It is the night before He's to die, and Jesus is trying to prepare them so that they won't falter. Of course, they do - especially Peter, but He gives them His peace so that even when they stumble and fall they may have the ability to get back up. 

But what is this peace? To start with something it's not, we can say that it isn't contentment or happiness. I doubt that Paul felt happy after being beaten within an inch of his life by men with heavy stones. I don't think Martin Luther King was feeling contented as he sat in Birmingham Jail. Both men, in a way, had been beaten down by their foes. They were defeated in the moment, but an inner peace that only Christ can give lifted them back up. In Paul's case to continue the mission of evangelization by walking defiantly back into the city of Lystra. In the case of King, he wrote his famous letter, challenging the consciences of those "moderate" religious leaders who sympathized with he cause of civil rights but felt it imprudent to act. Both men possessed the inner strength born from faith, and the right ordering of their lives in light of that faith. In those moments they were no longer living for themselves, but for Christ, and the Kingdom He came to establish. Both men possessed the peace of Christ. 

The peace of Christ isn't a protection against all anxiety, or a guarantee that we will never face obstacles. It is the peace of Christ that enables us to get up again after being beaten down. The peace of Christ is born from faith lived out consistently in our lives. When we know and live the Commandments, not out of fear but out of love, we possess the peace of Christ. In a way it is a coming together of the three great theological virtues, faith hope and love, lived in concert with one another, directing our lives toward deeper union with God.

This isn't the peace of the world. The peace of the world is built on that which is material, sensual, and willful. We too often seek happiness in consumer goods, money or property. Or else we seek some sense high or pleasure from chemical or sexual sources. Then there are those who chase after power, either in the political, corporate or ecclesiastical realm. In their proper place property, pleasure and the exercises of power aren't bad, but they don't offer lasting peace, and can corrupt the individual. Property, pleasure and power divorced from responsibility are sources of unhappiness for those caught up in their pursuit and for others around them. They can lead, in the end, to eternal perdition.

Christ is calling us to not look for lasting peace in these temporary fixes of property, pleasure and power. He gives us the example to follow. We shouldn't be afraid to carry the cross we are given. It will seem hard, even excruciating, at the time. We may feel beaten down or imprisoned emotionally or psychologically. But if we hold fast to what is true, and to Him who is Truth, this peace will carry us on from the cross, through the tomb to the everlasting glory of the resurrection.    

The Scapular by the Apostleship of Prayer

Bishop Barron on the Sacrament of Confirmation

A Leper Among Lepers - Fr. Damien by AOP

Our Lady of Fatima HD

This Saturday is the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima, which this year marks the 100th anniversary of the apparitions of Mary to the three child seers in Fatima, Portugal. I'll have more on this important feast later in the week.