:... A Note On Locale ...:
 

Not Berlin, it goes without saying. Eleanore Tovoinen... Toivonen, the name's Finnish, she's Finnish, she married a Fin for a reason. So when she goes home, she goes back to Helsinki, not to Berlin. ... And in my notebook, it seems to have struck me as utterly vital that Eleanore and Serafeim meet in passing once before his fall. Perhaps at the monastery in Kirkas, perhaps years ago. For some reason, it was utterly vital that she know the prior from the early days. And at the moment, I don't precisely recall why. Scribbled paragraphs in the midst of calculus classes tend to make very little sense, but I do get the drift that I wanted to highlight the separation of S.' and E.'s spheres, a separation which grows less and less defined as time wears on. More to the point: I want to emphasize the point that she is the only woman he has ever felt something for, the perfect representation of "woman" in his mind. Not only is she its epitome, she is the only one he sees - on a practical level as much as on a symbolic one.
 

We have a new one, notably; one revolving around sin. Naturally, they won't go in order, but if we can get our frail angel to make it through all ten of them - even slightly goofy #one and #three - that would be just precious.

 

. . .

:... Sin Is Whatever Obscures The Soul #1: Adultery ...:

Eleanore is married when they go to bed in Dubrovnik. When S. comes to see her in Helsinki -
finds her clutching the doorway, a bruise over one eye and cheek, fallow eyes with a sudden glimmer
of recognition - she is wearing a ring. And later: "So when did this happen?" Years ago. Years and years
and years ago. A tic of the eyelid, tear-lined: "Are you telling me I'm an adulterer?" In the white house, she is
begging for forgiveness but he is too far out of tears. For the priest to hear the confession of his lover,
for the demon to glean the blessings of a saint? She is crying. He isn't. He's trying to get out, drained,
agitated, all eaten-up. From room to room they go, and he's insistent, gesturing, saying,
No. No, I won't hear it. I don't want to hear it.

. . .

:... Some Cast To Date ...:


:... Serafeim Křehký ...:
(the angel)


:.. Eleanore Toivonen ...:
(the woman)


:... Miroslav Satan ...:
(the sinner)



:.. Rolf Toivonen ...:
(the bastard)


:.. Francesco Venanzi ...:
(the preferito)

:.. Mikael Vanhanen ...:
(the prior)

:... Constantine Burakgazi ...:
(the holy man)
. . .

Excerpts to follow.

[I didn't even try this, but I love that Eleanore is the only bit of color in the world.]

I spoke with Dr. Shaw in class on Thursday, and he made some truly intriguing - if Nietzschian - points regarding faith. Catholicism, he suggested, is a religion founded by slaves for slaves... designed to make them feel better about being slaves. Because they could not realistically expect their lot to improve in this life, they dwelt on the afterlife. It's a fundamentally unhealthy religion, he told us in lecture, one founded upon the most repugnant principals of masochism: it idolizes the image of a man nailed to a cross, nailed through the hands and feet. (Consider Drakulić - J., akimbo, says "You look like a whore": but S. knows that by accepting the pain with open arms, one can fool oneself into ceasing to feel it.) There is a decided emphasis on denial and mortification - it makes the suffering worthwhile. It makes the suffering mean something.

. . .
:.. To Find Patience in Grace (And End Up Nothing) ...:

cuivus dolori remedium est patrentia
[patience is the cure for all suffering]
 

:... Miroslav Satan ...:
. . .

• apostasy
• heresy
• schism
• desecration of the eucharist
• violence against the pope
• ordination of bishops sans papal mandate
• violation of the seal of confession

• Interdict may result from attempting to marry while having a perpetual vow of chastity

 

[I propose a new bout in the word war, Imp. An additional 5,000 words by next Saturday at midnight, certo? Say yes. Voglio il tramezzo, and I won't have the motivation to write otherwise. ;)]

On the topic of religion - we were on the topic of religion? - I watched Constantine tonight. It was a bit of a blast.

I read my Tower of Souls notes this afternoon, avoided the musical [critical] analysis paper and the piano practice like plague. Threw the sheet music and the textbooks to one side just for today: today I was going to be a writer again. It was going to be like old times, good times when I was eleven, twelve, thirteen and spent every hour of every day buried in a notebook. It was going to be. But I woke up late and did a bit of homework after all, and by the time I got to my desk I was a bit sad, a bit distanced. So I sat on the floor, heaved the box of notebooks out from under my bed and casually reread the top few clumps of writing. It is the most beautiful feeling to recognize something - something good - that you wrote years ago. It's like visiting an old friend. Like going home. It was a lovely wreck of a novel: the purification of the reincarnation cycle, the Death, The Dream Keeper, Mikhyl the Arch-King, angels did battle with humans and we had Tjaii [who was Majhisti, who was the Death's incarnation] waiting to kill a man - "Go to Hell," he whispered just before pulling the trigger, "and fight a Demon." It was quite a thing to write. And on the topic of going to Hell...
 

. . .
 

I've been trying to figure out the clergy are involved, with little luck. I don't know how far I want to take this, or how high. And I am, of course, out of time. The NaNovel, which is never written in November, will - of course - spill over into the subsequent years. I love how useless I am on deadlines. And no, you may not have a word count. Excerpts, next time, if you're nice to me.

. . .
 

There is a slew of additional characters - religious and secular, noteworthy and vague, antagonistic and helpful - and they shall be rambled over when I have more time and lucidity. Serafeim and Eleanore are the only two constant personas, however. The rest are shadows, ghosts, and guests which debut in flurries of literary leitmotiv and exit in anonymity. I spent some of my time between classes today trying to pin down the format of chapters, parts, points of view: I know the story and where it goes, but I'm not quite sure how I should be telling it. In the tradition of Konrad, I get the feeling that this novel will be beyond abstract. And on that note. I keep thinking of Draculic's The Taste of a Man. Is that how Serafeim ends up? So far off the edge of the map that the map becomes useless? I tend to hope not... Also, I watched "Goya's Ghosts" the other night, with mein vater: disturbing and about the Inquisition, what could be better? For the purposes of novel writing, it's semi-unfortunate that the Church has so long ago abandoned its incredible bloody-mindedness. I visited the library today, after calculus.

~ Declaration on Religious Freedom of Vatican Council, II - Vatican Council. 2nd.
~ The Wisdom of Catholicism - Anton Pegis
~ The Principles of Monasticism - Bernard Sause
~ Sex in Christianity and Psychoanalysis - William Cole
~ Orthodoxy - G.K. Chesterton
~ The Silent Life - Thomas Merton
~ The Case Worker - Gyorgy Konrad