February 20, 2008

A Sentence Out of Context

Posted in Literature, Reading, Writing at 9:47 pm by Emilia Philips

I read this sentence last night and thought it worth sharing. If I am reading carefully, I try to be alert for well-tuned sentences, which are fun to collect even though more cumbersome than words.

I have a passion for writing on clean single-lined foolscap; a smear, a tea-mark on a page makes it unusable, and a fantastic notion took me that I must keep my paper locked up in case of an unsavory visitor.

Graham Greene, The End of the Affair. I suspect a few others out there might be reading this one too these days . . . . Foolscap, by the way, refers to paper that is 8 1/2 by 13 1/2 inches. More information on it can be found here.

November 21, 2007

The Extraordinarily Ordinary Life

Posted in Reading, Sacred Heart at 7:06 am by Emilia Philips

I eagerly anticipate the postal worker’s regular trek to our home and the surprises he often bears, but the arrival of magazines is always a mixed joy. Many of them are unsolicited, and often not even that interesting, but somewhere along my life’s journey I developed the compulsion to read (or attempt to read) whatever arrives. I fear missing some little gem hidden among the tedious pages of bar journals and other materials. Every now and then I find something to reinforce this compulsive habit, like this line in a recent letter to the editor of a university publication: “. . . some alumni who are ‘extraordinarily ordinary’ never get into the magazine except for a death notice.” The alumnus writes that the previous issue of the publication “brought the sad news of the death of” a friend and fellow alumnus “who was extraordinarily ordinary, who worked hard, loved his family, [and] was a good citizen,” concluding simply that “[h]e will be missed.”
The extraordinarily ordinary. St. Madeline Sophie Barat founded the Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the order that educated me for thirteen years. We learned that she would have founded the order “for the sake of one child.” (Curiously, the correct translation may be “for the soul of one child,” but I leave that for another post.) I, perhaps like most of the students, wondered if I were that child. Would I become president, discover a critical cure, or write the great American novel? (I did not know about Supreme Court clerkships in high school.) Having tasted a bit more of life, I have come to think differently of the one child referenced by the saint. The woman leading an extraordinarily ordinary life, of loving God and family, of diligent work at home and in the community, and of personal growth, seems as worthy of the saint’s efforts for the Society as the politician or Nobelaureate. I offer this blog (to both of you readers out there) to share some of the extraordinarily ordinary parts of my life and mind, perhaps for the simple purpose to learn what I have to say. Here goes!