Part two of this week's Double Catholicism Whammy was Veronica Chater's memoir Waiting for the Apocalypse. The author's parents, who were disgusted with Vatican II Catholic reforms, eventually moved from California to Portugal to experience a more pure faith, and then, when Portugal wasn't Catholic enough, moved back to California to start the counter-revolution.
The memoir's an odd mix of the quietly horrifying and the bleakly funny. Although Chater's father is the real mover in the family, dictating their circumstances, the person I couldn't get over was her mother. Who good-naturedly goes along with moving their family to Portugal, then back, all while bearing (eventually) eleven children? Unbelievable. Her mother plays a prime role in my favorite exchange in the memoir, when the family arrives in England en route to Portugal:
"'Look around, kids,' Dad said from ahead. 'England used to be a great nation. Thanks to St. Augustine of Canterbury, who converted the Anglo-Saxon pagans to Catholicism in the sixth century, and then the Normans, who invaded the country in 1066 and reestablished Catholic rule. England has a fine, noble history...[but] She murdered her heroes and crowned her heretics. She embraced the ideals of the Renaissance: humanism, pride, and narcissism. Her gooal was 'The devil's work, done by the devil's ministers.' Yep. England became what she deserved: the whore of Babylon.'
'For goodness' sakes, Lyle. Don't spoil England for the kids," Mom said." (p. 102-103.)
I didn't think I was going to be able to read the whole thing--it's so sad, in parts--but I surprised myself and read to the end. What I found most interesting was how, after a number of cruelties and misunderstandings (at one point when she's a teenager she gets kicked out of the house; for a while her parents make her wear dresses rather than jeans for the sake of modesty--this latter doesn't sound as bad as the kicking out but I agree with the author--it would have infuriated me) she still comes back to loving her family, and particularly thanking her mother for doing her best to keep the family all together.
Chater also notes in an epilogue that almost none of her siblings (herself included) are still practicing Catholics, which, conversely, makes her father happy, as he continues to believe that the Vatican II church is not the real Catholic Church.
All told, it's an intense and sobering story. And it made me really glad that, although my parents sometimes grumbled about Vatican II, they grudgingly went along with the peace handshake in church, didn't move us to Portugal, and let me wear jeans. Sure, we said the odd rosary in public (I did recognize Chater's desire that her family not be so obviously Catholic, breaking out rosaries and scapulars at the slightest provocation), but that was a lot better than being forced to wear dresses.
I can't figure out what this says about me, but I still carry a rosary in my purse. I've long forgotten the proper order of the prayers, but I still have carry it.
Posted by: Melanie | 18 March 2009 at 10:13 AM
I can think of worse things to have in your purse, Melanie. I myself still wear a medal on a chain that says "I am a Catholic--Please call a priest." This has the dual purpose of making me feel happy and safer, and making me giggle (three purposes; whenever I hold infant and toddler nieces and nephews they always go for the chain and play with it)--I always think it maybe should say, "Please also call 911, depending on how bad things look," but then, I've never been accused of having a normal sense of humor.
Posted by: Citizen Reader | 18 March 2009 at 02:51 PM
The part I didn't like was having to miss school the morning of Ash Wednesday and then go around all day with a big thumb print on my forehead. I swear our priest must have had Guiness Book record-winning thumbs on him.
Posted by: Jessica | 18 March 2009 at 03:13 PM
I converted to Catholicism in 2006 from Protestantism. I learned about Catholicism both pre- and post-Vatican II and I definitely could not be a Catholic if pre-Vatican II rules were re-instated (note to Pope Benedict VI, ahem). Not being able to understand what is going on in Mass because it is in Latin? Not cool to me. Not having the priests face you during the service? Completely lacking in connection for the parish. Mel Gibson and I would so not get along. :) I don't know how I would feel reading this book.
Posted by: Rebecca | 18 March 2009 at 05:20 PM
Rebecca,
This is very interesting. It's sad, actually, how little I know about Vatican II and the changes it made; I'll have to read up on it. Although I think a Latin mass might be pretty to listen to, I can't imagine how it would work. Were all the readings and everything in Latin? Weird. That would get very dull, very fast.
Is Mel Gibson getting along with anyone these days? :)
I don't know what to tell you about how you would find this book. My attitude toward religion in general is that it is an institution, and you can't really blame the institution for what people do (if you did, we couldn't have governments or monetary systems either, I feel). I've lived with and known people of several different religions and I can't say I've ever come across one that didn't have some issues. I actually kind of love reading these types of books (even though this one was really tough); I feel you can't fix problems unless you take a long hard look at them first. Although, if you're looking for a questioning book, I'd suggest Peter Manseu's "Vows: The Story of a Priest, a Nun, and their Son" over this one. Also a tough read, but really, really thoughtful.
Posted by: Citizen Reader | 18 March 2009 at 05:50 PM
Jessica,
Classic story (record thumbs, tee hee). Isn't that the same day they have the readings about not showing off how you're fasting, too? That never made any sense to me either. Now if I go to Ash Wednesday services I just wipe my forehead off right after church. Much easier.
Posted by: Citizen Reader | 18 March 2009 at 10:45 PM
Thanks for the tip on Peter Manseu's book. Yes, everything was in Latin pre-Vatican II. No one knew what was actually being said because obviously it is a dead language. I like the changes the church has made and I hope Pope Benedict XVI will not conservatize (I just made that word up, like it?) the church too much. I like tradition but I like it with a sense of worldliness, as well. I agree that no institutions are perfect, just as there are no perfect people. We all just have to find where we fit in. Thanks for the response. I will look into Manseu's book.
Posted by: Rebecca | 23 March 2009 at 03:01 AM
Rebecca,
Wow, everything in Latin. That would make church seem very long and unintelligible indeed, I would think.
I wish you luck with the Manseau book. It's not an easy read by any means but it was very, very thoughtful and interesting. If you ever read it pop back in and let me know what you think, okay?
Posted by: Citizen Reader | 23 March 2009 at 09:38 AM