Flannery O’Connor is one of the greatest writers of the twentieth century. Her novels and short stories―shockingly violent, absurdly comic, spiritually potent―continue to entertain, beguile, and transform readers of all backgrounds to this day. For many encountering them for the first time, O’Connor’s stories of backwoods prophets and outcasts feel strangely nihilistic and dark. Others familiar with her letters and essays appreciate the deep Catholic understanding of sin and grace that animates them. In this new book, Fr. Damian Ference proposes a more precise lens for decoding Flannery O’Connor’s narrative art, one that originates in O’Connor’s own words about Hillbilly Thomism. The author examines the various ways in which St. Thomas Aquinas and the philosophical tradition of Thomism shaped not only O’Connor’s view of reality but also the stories she told to help us see and know it. Featuring an impressive array of biographical and literary evidence and extended analysis of her short stories “The River,” “Parker’s Back,” and “The Displaced Person,” Understanding the Hillbilly Thomist is an important look at the intersection of medieval philosophy and modern fiction in one of the most treasured artists of the American South.
Fr. Damian Ference is a priest of the Diocese of Cleveland and is a doctoral student inphilosophy at the Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas in Rome, Italy. Fr. Ference graduated from Borromeo Seminary/John Carroll University in 1998, and after earning his M.A. and M.Div. from Saint Mary Seminary and Graduate School of Theology he was ordained for the diocese of Cleveland in 2003.
He served as parochial vicar at St. Mary Parish in Hudson, Ohio from 2003-2007. In 2009 he earned his licentiate in philosophy from The Catholic University of America in Washington, DC. Ference has been part of the formation faculty at Borromeo Seminary since 2009.
In addition to writing for Word on Fire, Fr. Ference has published articles in a wide variety of periodicals, including America, Catholic Universe Bulletin, Commonweal,Dappled Things, Emmanuel, FirstThings.com, Homiletic and Pastoral Review, Human Development, Pastoral Life, Seminary Journal, The Plain Dealer, The Priest, U.S. Catholic and Worship. Ference also regularly preaches retreats and parish missions.
He is the founder and director of {TOLLE LEGE} Summer Institute and is a lifetime member of the Flannery O’Connor Society.
I will return to it again and again. For Father Damian has clearly shown me that my inner disconnect with the current daily practices of Catholicism is psychological - it stems from my weird ASD.
So thanks, Father Damian. it was not the Church's fault after all.
It was mine!
That eased my mind.
Being on the Spectrum, I have loved O'Connor's stories from the start. For her way of seeing the world was my own. And overlaying them with Thomistic Philosophy ENHANCES them!
Because it CLARIFIES them.
Wow. Who knew? Of course I already knew that every one of her fabulously cutting stories has a moral. But I never could see that each one has a Moral just like in a well-delivered Homily!
And all Catholic morals are in her morals.
For the first time I see that my Aspie morality leads Directly to Sacred Morality. I feel exonerated!
God has been busy with me.
Previously, when I read Flannery, I just went with the flow of emotions her stories elicited in me. But NOW I have Father Damian's superb ANALYSIS of so many of them.
This will be the Vade Mecum of my Silver Years for sure!
Hey, do you by chance know the difference between Heaven and Purgatory?
Simple.
For me it's the difference between SUFFERING the Fire of Judgement -
And patiently REASONING through the Justice of it.
Father Ference argues that the soul of Flannery O’Connor’s fiction is her Thomism. I think Ference is exactly right, and his case is compelling. This being the case, Ference’s book also doubles very nicely as a very clear exposition of the central points of Thomas Aquinas’ philosophy. Ference rightly balances this book with the reality that O’Connor was not a philosopher, but a philosophically interested author, whose work reflects much of the Thomistic burden: Things have a purpose, and meaning, and are connected because God is the final cause of creation. In this way, a minor note of the book is how O’Connor emerges as a kind of foil for Nietzsche. Whereas Nietzsche swears off metaphysics for robbing the present life of its dignity, O’Connor doubles down on how metaphysics dignifies creation and life here and now. Indeed, one of Thomas’ richest insights (something he received from Augustine that carries nicely through to the Reformed tradition, too) is that God, as the final (and first!) cause, is not in a contrastive or competitive relationship with His creation. Instead, creation comes from God’s own generosity. He says it like this: “To act from need belongs only to an imperfect agent, which by its nature is both agent and patient. But this does not belong to God, and therefore He alone is the most perfectly liberal giver, because He does not act for His own profit, but only for His own goodness” (ST 1, Q. 44, A. 4). This conviction of God’s love and generosity permeates O’ Connor’s literary vision - and she writes the way she does to wake us up to its vastness. For her, literature was a means through which to combat the 20th-century malaise that set in with the death of God and world wars. Writing was a vocation “for the sake of revealing the true metaphysical contours of reality that her audience might otherwise be prone to ignore” (86). She was a metaphysical realist - someone for whom reality mattered, something we ignore at our own peril.
In addition to staking out O’Connor’s literary metaphysics, Ference sketches how her art reveals a kind of Thomstic epistemology and ethics, both of which are wonderful chapters. The section on attention and epistemology is spiritually significant, especially for writers, preachers, and artists who are attempting to speak about and portray the world. The role of the Christian is not simply to glance or glimpse, but to gaze, “to stare with the purpose of coming to know something or to know something better” (132). We are to see “what-is” and attend “to the being of another.” It is slow, methodical, and patient. At its heart, really, O’Connor sees the vocation of the (Christian) writer to be a lover (a see-er) of creation. It is love and wonder that motivates the Christian. However, it is more than just love or wonder in general. And this is where I would levy a slight criticism of the book. In attending to Aquinas’ philosophy only, Ference gives short shrift to “grace” as a concept in O’Connor’s fiction. Love, wonder, and astonishment at God’s grace ought to motivate the Christian. It is God’s grace that breaks in and redeems the seemingly irredeemable in her fiction. Ference would agree - but this book’s narrow-ish scope crowds out sustained reflection on the nature of grace in her work.
Ference’s book works on all levels - an introduction to O’Connor, her art, and her friend, Thomas Aquinas, whose brilliant philosophy aided her in crafting the best short stories of the 20th century. In the end, it's a wonderful and fun book.
One of my favorite lines from the Hillbilly Thomist: “Mr. Paradise’s head appeared from time to time on the surface of the water. Finally, far downstream, the old man rose like some ancient water monster and stood empty-handed, staring with his dull eyes as far down the river line as he could see.” Ference rightly says: “Bevel has passed the dragon without being devoured and has made his way to the father of souls, to God, the source of being and Being itself.” (106). Amen. It's all grace.
Genuinely one of the best books I’ve ever read. It’s required reading for anyone studying O’Connor, and for all Catholics who desire to be writers. Fr. Ference writes so thoughtfully about how O’Connor’s “hillbilly Thomism” influenced her narrative art that it’s hard to imagine how you may not have picked up on it in the first place (I most certainly hadn’t). He not only lays out Thomism as she understood it, but also delves into specific stories in order to help illustrate her philosophical thinking -which he points out is an excellent philosophical tool. I’m wishing I could go back and take intro to philosophy and epistemology all over again aided by short stories chosen by him to illustrate the meaning of thinkers far beyond myself. I can’t say enough good things about this book!!’
A must read for anyone who enjoys Flannery. And for anyone interested in Thomism. The more time I spend reading her the more in awe I am with her stories.
I appreciate when literary fiction is explained. I was an English major in college but often found explanation of themes and symbols lacking. At best hinted at but not explained. This was true of how all authors were read, but of Flannery O'Connor in particular. This book at least gives you something to start with.
Thoughtful analysis of O'Connor's work through the lens of her study/interpretation of the works of St. Thomas Aquinas. Covers the metaphysics, symbolism, and structure of Thomist thought with emphasis on lived experience and the character and nature of God. Very interesting study of my favorite American author.
This is not a terrible book. It is really quite good, full of good stuff. I probably did more underlining, starring, !- and ?-ing than in all the other books I’ve ever read, maybe in my whole life, combined. Rich and enriching this one is. Beauty too rich for words, of which there are many. I actually liked it so well I had to read it twice.
Unsurprisingly, there’s a lot of philosophy in it. Aristotle, Aquinas. Some Descartes and Nietzsche. It’s not too much. Here, for example, is my favorite sentence, quoted from the Summa Contra Gentiles:
“Moreover, the agent is said to be the end of the effect in so far as the effect tends to be like the agent; and hence it is that the form of the generator is the end of the act of generation.”
I cannot imagine that this book would dare stand alone without that sentence being included, somewhere.
On the other hand, I suspect that Flannery O’Connor never read that sentence, even as a Thomist ‘three times removed.’
And there are other elements of like quiddity (yes, the author actually uses that word). One section that I think could have easily been ‘condensed’ is the author’s discussion of Betty Edwards’ “Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain.” Interesting? yes; essential to this already dense dissertation? No. Likewise the author’s rambling into Teilhard de Chardin’s imaginative ruminations. Interesting in their own right? Yes. Interesting for the student of Flannery O’Connor? Absolutely. Deeply pertinent to one’s understanding of O’Connor’s Thomism? Not so much, I think.
Father Ference clearly knows a lot of stuff, and he seems to want to share as much of it as he can. He does a good job. It’s a difficult subject. I learned stuff about O’Connor’s writing and about her Catholic worldview. I did a lot of underlining! I got a lot of ideas for future reading! I’m glad I read this. Twice!
But it’s almost too much. I’m certain I’d have written a different book. Meanwhile, I think I’d like to see the Reader’s Digest condensed version of this one.
Among so many good books already written about O'Connor, Understanding the Hillbilly Thomist is unique and important. Father Damien Ference has layered the story of Flannery O'Connor with insights gleaned from the contents of her library and letters, and in the process has given us an accessible introduction to the Southern Catholic writer's life, to the Thomistic foundations of her faith, and in the difficulties caused by the disease that cut her life short.
Understanding the Hillbilly Thomist offers a key to O'Connor's view of modernity (the nihilistic "gas we breathe") and the clarifying antidote of Thomistic faith. If you want to understand O'Connor better while reflecting on all the great questions our times pose, this is the first book I would recommend.