Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, largely unknown when she died in a Carmelite convent at the age of twenty-four, became-through her posthumously published autobiography-one of the world's most influential religious figures. In Saint Thérèse of Lisieux , bestselling novelist and memoirist Kathryn Harrison, whose depictions of women have been called "powerful" ( The New York Times Book Review ) and "luminously intelligent" ( The Boston Sunday Globe ), brings to the saint's life her storytelling gift and deep insight as she reveals the hopes and fears of the young girl behind the religious icon.
Saint Thérèse of Lisieux shows us the pampered daughter of successful and deeply religious tradespeople who-through a personal appeal to the pope-entered a convent at the early age of fifteen. There, Thérèse embraced sacrifice and self-renunciation in a single-minded pursuit of the "nothingness" she felt would bring her closer to God. With feeling, Harrison shows us the sensitive four-year-old whose mother's death haunted her forever and contributed to the ascetic spirituality that strengthened her to embrace even the deadly throes of tuberculosis. Tellingly placed in the context of late-nineteenth-century French social and religious practices, this is a powerful story of a life lived with enormous passion and a searing, triumphant voyage of the spirit.
Kathryn Harrison is the author of the novels Envy, The Seal Wife, The Binding Chair, Poison, Exposure, and Thicker Than Water.
She has also written memoirs, The Kiss and The Mother Knot, a travel memoir, The Road to Santiago, a biography, Saint Therese of Lisieux, and a collection of personal essays, Seeking Rapture.
Ms. Harrison is a frequent reviewer for The New York Times Book Review; her essays, which have been included in many anthologies, have appeared in The New Yorker, Harper's Magazine, Vogue, O, The Oprah Magazine, Salon, and other publications.
She lives in New York with her husband, the novelist Colin Harrison, and their children.
Before reading this book, I knew vaguely of Therese, a popular 20th century saint called the “Little Flower,” but that was about all. What unique qualities of holiness did a 24 year old nun who died of tuberculosis possess? This biography was written by a non-believer, so I assumed it would be reasonably balanced and not a hagiographic exercise.
In the most favorable opinion, Graham writes, “Appropriated by writers and artists, the consumptive heroine,, the woman wo dies of a love so transcendentally pure that it burns away its mortal vessel was the invention of an age.” She died in 1897 when tuberculosis was rampant, and often in the l9th century, tuberculosis, or consumption as it was known, was identified with spirituality and refinement. The environment. while not the sole factor in Therese’s life can’t be completely dismissed either.
She was the youngest of five surviving sisters, born into a middle-class religiously devout French family. Her mother died when she was young and created a feeling of separation and abandonment that never left her. Her father, whom she subsequently lost as well, and sisters were very protective. She was often sick but was a willful and spoiled child, and at an early age she determined that she wanted to become a Carmelie nun, an order that had been reformed by her namesake, Therese of Avila.
She was admitted to the Carmelite order at age 14, much earlier than usual. The Carmelite routine was to worship God by sanctifying every minute and every action. Work, prayer, waking, sleeping, all was for God’s glory. And to remind the nuns that this life was a fleeting one, a human skull was hung in the dining hall.
Therese was frequently criticized in the convent for being clumsy, for having no skills in sewing or cleaning, generally for any kind of lack of accomplishment. She was determined, though, not to be just a good nun, but a saint.
Her means of trying to accomplish this was to constantly reduce her needs, all for the purpose of making herself more acceptable to Jesus and Mary. Always, she had a vision of being accepted into Heaven. Toward the end of her life, when she suffered excruciating pain, she refused any kind of pain killers, all with the notion that suffering was good.
Harrison is not sympathetic and finds much of this behavior to be erotically masochistic. She thinks it can be explained in personal terms as a sense of trying to compensate for te many losses in her life. In broader cultural terms, Harrison writes, “A ready made audience beset by fin de siecle anxieties over the appropriate role of woman seized on Therese’s romantic vision. Here was the (reactionary) comfort of traditional, emblematic femininity. Eternally presexual, she had chosen a respectable means of power for women: invalidism.” What accounts for Therese’s popularity in the 20th century? She did write an autobiography in which she apparently discusses the small ways in which one can accomplish good, and I’d guess (I haven’t read it) that this would have wide appeal to ordinary people as a feasible way of establishing self-worth and doing good. There is no need for any kind of conventional heroic action.
I would not normally seek out the biography of a saint, but Gretchen Rubin mentions Saint Therese of Lisieux in the Happiness Project as a [non theological] spiritual guru and it piqued my interest.
Harrison does a very capable, and indeed objective, job of recounting the events of Therese's life, making great use of the writings of Therese and her sisters as well as records from the canonization hearings. In her early life, Therese strikes me as an unsufferable, spoiled brat whose practice of faith comes across as both fanatical and sanctimonious. From early in life, she has essentially been marked as a candidate for sainthood by her family and some members, something she herself is aware of. As her short life progresses, she experiences some important moments of insight that allow her to reach a more profound and revolutionary identity in her faith (she outgrows the unsufferableness and spoiling, but not-- as I suppose would befit a saint-- the fanaticism and sanctimoniousness). She was a prolific writer, which allowed for the posthumous dissemination of accounts of her life and her personal theology to a broader audience, making her a quite beloved saint.
My conclusion upon finishing this book is that the life of a saint is no fun at all. Therese's sainthood seems to be based on a self-sacrifice that directly benefited almost no one other than, in her mind (and I would hazard to guess, any devout Catholic's mind), God. The constant seeking out of inconvenience and indeed, pain, has a decidedly sadistic quality to it. And yet, one can find in her extreme asceticism an admirable model for a more moderate form of forbearance designed to show a quiet love for those around us.
I'm not sure that I would recommend this book to anyone. That said, if you are interested in biography, want to expose yourself to new ways of thinking, or want a better understanding of the Catholic faith, it is a well-written and short account of an interesting figure.
This was a strange book. This is a biography of the life of Therese of Lisieux, someone I really enjoyed reading and was greatly interested in years ago. I found this biography and automatically picked it up. Therese only lived to be 24 years old but despite being a little known nun became a saint and her book a Story of a Soul as I last read it was a beautiful piece of work (I haven’t reread it recently but hopefully will in future for a new take on it). This being said it is natural the biographer here didn’t have perhaps alot of material to make an 150-200 page book. Also a “Story of a Soul” is also Therese’s autiobiography so this might make the biographer’s task also a bit more difficult as what new material do you cover? All this said this was not a good biography. This book was more opinion and speculation which actually interrupted and segmented the narrative of Therese’s life. Another thing I did not appreciate about this author is that she didn’t make her stance known and so tried to offer other perspectives but ambiguity just made it that much more trying to read. Would not recommend as a biography.
My low rating is for the author, not the saint. I felt this devout woman's story was presented with little respect for her faith and holiness. Story of a Soul should give me a much better view of Therese's thoughts and heart. I listened to an audio CD version of this book, but it isn't listed as an option.
English language biographers have a problem when it comes to writing about St Therese. Well, two, if their French isn't very good. The biggest problem is that while there is a lot of documentation of her life and thought, many of the English translations were made with a definite agenda in mind, which does a great disservice to the original. (I'm a translator myself, I've read them in French repeatedly, I know how word choices can colour or even radically change the finished product.) I have yet to find a decent English translation of Story of a Soul: The Autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux that isn't sugary-sweet. Perhaps this is because many of the English versions available were made when Therese was freshly canonised (1925), when there was a different aesthetic expected of "saints"; we now know that Mother Agnes, Therese's biological sister who had acted as her "mother" from the time Therese was three, edited heavily and excised those passages she thought not fitting for the image of the Little Flower that Carmel wished to project. One of the things that is sadly lost if you can't read the original is her humour. Yes, I said humour. She was known for it; her novice mistress said that recreation was no fun without her, "Mystical, comical, one minute she can make you weep with laughter, the next with tears of devotion."
However, with the abundant documentation available, there isn't a lot that new scholarship can bring to the table. Since her canonisation there have been hundreds of books and periodicals published, putting her life and thought under a microscope. Maybe that's why the few modern English language biographies I've read end up trying to "demythologise" Therese, eventually giving the impression they don't like their subject much. Harrison settles for a general retelling of Story of a Soul in her own words, incorporating passages from family correspondence, also published and available if you read French. Which I do, and I wondered if Harrison did. If so, why did she choose to translate the term "parloir" (the visitor's room where outsiders can speak to enclosed nuns, albeit through a grill) as "the speak-room", which isn't even sensible English? We have the word "parlour", which is the English term used in enclosed monasteries; why not use it? She also speaks of the nuns being wakened in the morning by "the snap of castanets", when what was and is actually used is an old-fashioned watchman's rattle of the kind that used to be used at sports matches. (You swing it, it's loud and annoying, and yes it would wake a sleeper, which castanets would not.)
Another thing contemporary English writers tend to do to try to tear down the myth is call Therese "arrogant", "subtly proud", a "fetishist" etc. Well, at fifteen perhaps, but I doubt she remained so during the dark night of the soul. This particular author spends a lot of page time sexual/sensualising Therese's motivations--on very scanty evidence. Does she have any real idea what upper-class French catholicism was like in the 19th century? And where does she get the information that Therese and P. Roulland had a long face-to-face conversation in which they "spoke at length?"
I'm not defending the sugary, roses-and-lilies image of an ethereal Little Flower who floats to heaven on a cloud of cotton candy, scattering rose petals as she goes. There is a lot of good in this book if you haven't read the originals or any of the French scholarship involved, but I recommend it it if you can. I wish I could find an English author who can admire Therese without slobbering--or write about her without bullying.
An interesting biography of the life of a young middle-class French woman who died of tuberculosis in 1897 at age 24 and became a Saint of the Catholic Church less than three decades later (that's pretty fast for the Catholics).
It's an interesting book because the author, Kathryn Harrison, does a good job of balancing the presentation of the facts and impressions of Therese Martin's life (as depicted in Therese's own writings and those of her family and her religious order) with the modern biographer's requirement to seek a deeper understanding for why the subject did what she did, what her ulterior motives may have been, and how her experience was influenced by the conditions and events of where she lived in France, the politics of her religious order and the Catholic Church, and the priorities of her family.
One would have to read the book to get a sense for what the attention paid to this young lady is all about, but in a nutshell Therese Martin, from the age of about 2 years old, seems to devoted every event in her life to experiencing it as a way of suffering so as to consecrate her life to Jesus. Her parents and her sisters were all of a similar mindset, but Therese, as the youngest, outdid all of them in her efforts to sacrifice her life to Jesus.
Everyone is aware that the Catholic Church honors certain individuals as being especially pious and holy people who are an example of how the Catholic Church thinks the rest of us should live. one common theme in the lives is most saints is that they usually die in particularly horrendous and painful ways, but legends about these people emphasize that they bore their deaths with grace, and looked forward to "being reunited with Christ."
Our modern sensibilities and daily experiences make it hard to relate to people who think this way, and the fact that so many of the official Saints lived centuries ago would lead us to believe that these people were very different from us.
What's neat about Harrison's short book is that we can see how, in many ways, Therese Martin was just the same as the rest of us - same basic growing up and family experiences, that is. But Therese chose a different path in how she experienced these events. She took the daily trials of life and tried to view them all as a means to offer herself up to Jesus.
Now, many will be skeptical, and perhaps hostile, to what a young girl meant by that sort of thing. Harrison's technique is to present each significant event in Therese's own words, and then introduce some modern ideas from pschology, health science, and other disciplines that call into question what Therese may have actually been experiencing (or seeking to avoid, in some cases). In the end, Harrison knows we can't say with finality one way or the other what the experiences actually meant to or were like for Therese, but she courteously gives Therese the final say in each episode...after all, it was Therese's life, in the end.
To sum up, a neat book for those who are curious about the big deal with Saints is all about. Strictly devoted Catholics may not like it, because this book is not hagiography, and totally committed atheists, skeptics, and Catholic-haters may come away thinking that author is naive is how she presents Therese Martin's story. But for those who come to this book without an agenda, you'll find an interesting story.
I would recommend reading this in conjunction with another Penguin Lives biography, on SIMONE WEIL, for a more intellectual perspective on what the Catholic experience meant to the French.
I really didn't know much about St Thérèse of Lisieux, other than that her relics have been the centre of much religious enthusiasm in the various countries to which they have been brought. After reading this book, I don't feel that I know much more than I did. She was one of eight children, the youngest of four surviving sisters, who all became nuns in the same convent (Thérèse having personally petitioned the Pope to be allowed to join at the age of fifteen); she basically dedicated herself to a consuming, borderline erotic vision of union with Christ, and expired of tuberculosis at the age of 24 in 1897. Despite having grown up in the Irish Catholic tradition myself, I found a lot of the story pretty repellent, and if I'd been Thérèse's spiritual director I fear I would have instructed her rather firmly to get a grip. Having said that, I think her intense devotion to her personal conception of Christ is an extrapolation of the extreme loyalties I sometimes see expressed in media fandom communities. Perhaps I should get hold of her Story of a Soul but I am not really inclined to after reading this.
This book chronicles the life of Saint Therese of Lisieux, basically from childhood through death. It is an easy read and fairly enjoyable.
In the beginning it seemed that the author did a fine job of keeping personal opinions to herself, and I made a mental appreciative note of that. Further into the book, however, it seemed that the author developed a negative attitude (whereas prior she had expressed no opinion, remember) toward the subject of the book.
The author's negative opinion was so prevalent, in fact, that by the end of the book I was actually surprised to learn about the global pilgrimages Saint Therese's bones have made since her death.
Granted, this negativity could have stemmed from Harrison's (the author's) research, but there was no direct indication of this. It honestly caused me to wonder what her credentials are to have written such a book. I realize that this publisher is well-renowned, but does that make the author a knowledgeable and worthwhile writer for the subject matter?
In truth, I have not researched Ms. Harrison, I am only giving my opinion, which is that the negativity in this work about Saint Therese of Lisieux caused me great surprise in the end to see how esteemed she ended up being. It is a good, easy read, however.
I haven't cared for the Kathryn Harrison novels I've tried to read, but I was happily surprised and intrigued by this book--intelligently and thoughtfully written and researched, provocative, sad, and moving. I also didn't know much of anything about Therese before I started, and so I feel like I learned a ton--as much about France and French Catholicism of that time as about the saint, who lived a painfully short life (pages and pages of Harrison's book are devoted to Therese's dying of TB--a protracted death which is occasionally excruciating to read about). Harrison draws from several different fields--psychology, feminist studies, religious history--and blends them seamlessly into her narrative--you can sometimes intuit where Harrison stands on certain issues, but she does an admirable job, too, of writing with a warmth but leaving it up to the reader to figure out what s/he thinks of Therese, her culture and religion, her family and choices.
The author seemed very biased and critical of the Catholic Church, Therese's feelings, and all of society during the time period. I stopped reading when I happened upon this paragraph:
"Contemporary readers might balk at the idea of a woman choosing to forsake sexual satisfaction, but in nineteenth century France, what sex life was to be had outside the convent? When the Church was hostile to all earthly pleasures, especially those of the body, there were few sexually liberated married Catholics. A well-brought-up, catechized girl had never even heard of an orgasm."
The writing style was engaging and interesting, but I kept getting the impression that the author was looking down on her subject. I think I will get the story from Therese herself in "The Story of a Soul", thankyouverymuch.
Harrison's point-of-view was unique as she paints a picture of a mentally unhealthy saint from an emotionally dysfunctional family. I don't know that I'd make that assessment if I lived in the late 19th century but it is easy to read her that way from the historical present. Overall it is an engaging meditation on the more bizarre constructs of organized religion and the cultures they create.
Why would Penguin hire a non-Catholic (see below) to write a biography of one of the great saints of the last century or so? At best, Kathryn Harrison is skeptical of the truths of the Catholic Church; at worse, incredulous and nearly hostile.
Harrison intersperses her religious skepticism and her armchair psychoanalysis throughout the biography. She consistently attributes the psychology of Saint Therese to sexual repression or a masked deception of what Therese must have secretly felt. As one outside of the faith, Harrison is unable to conceptualize the transformative nature of Christ and the nobility of suffering in the light of the Crucifixion. Without these axioms of faith, Harrison can only see Therese as absurd, as a sexual repressive, as a little girl who duped the world of her interior state.
If you want a biography of Saint Therese of Lisieux, look else.
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Yona Zeldis McDonough: Do you feel any strong connection to your Jewish background now?
Kathryn Harrison: Yes, especially as a cultural heritage distinct from that of Protestants or Catholics. I didn’t understand how Jewish I was until I moved to New York and married a WASP. It isn’t an accident that almost all of my close friends are Jewish: our sensibilities align. No matter the external forms of worship, or lack thereof, my grandparents were Jews, and no more capable of changing their essence than any other pair of mortals.
This read to me like a horror story. I had to stop myself from reading it right before going to sleep lest I end up having nightmares inspired by this book.
What this child went through... Because she was very much a child, even at her death at 24.
The obsession with humiliation and suffering, and later on with death - I found it all horrifying, particularly her family's pushing of this precocious child into sacrificing herself for her religion. Some reviewers have referred to her family as "dysfunctional"...I'd go one step further and call them out for what they were - abusive.
I find the concept of sainthood due to purposeful suffering an abomination. She could've had morphine to ease her pain but refused so she could suffer more greatly for god. Sigh.
And how all of these adults around her, conspired to have her become a saint...?
She wasn't given an opportunity to do anything else but suffer. She didn't dedicate herself to helping others, just to suffering.
Before reading this book I was interested in learning more about Saint Therese of Lisieux. As I read this book I became less interested. For that reason I think I'm being generous in giving it three stars. It seems like the author was most interested in refuting the spiritual aspects of Saint Therese's life. She makes her seem like a brat as a kid, and like a rigid personality as an adult. I was looking for a book to inspire me. I did not find it.
Interesting to have a review of a saint's life that isn't diluted through the sugar coated lens of Catholicism, I found her to be a mysteriously intriguing person with a hint of mischief in her smile. I wonder if she had not been raised in such a deeply devour culture, she might have been something of a feminist.
A great introduction to this fascinating saint. Determined to find little ways of getting closer to God, she died at the age of 24 and her autobiography has been read by millions. Such a fascinating life and an inspiration to so many.
A fairly good biography of the famous saint, though the author could have been a bit more lenient in her language, and could have included some photos in the book.
I feel like this book assumes a lot of prior knowledge about St Therese. If you haven’t already read her works and other biographies, you might not get very much from this one.
A refreshingly unbiased view of the life of one of France's youngest saints and Catholicism as a whole during the late 19th century. As an agnostic, I respect Harrison's attempt to portray only the facts about Saint Therese's life, from birth to death in intricate detail. A large focus of the work is on Saint Therese's relationships with the people around her. She is sometime seen as a domineering force as well as having excessive pride in her disposition and 'status' with God. I found it pleasantly surprising to read a biography on such a popular Saint that didn't try to dramatize or embellish her life or personality. In this biography you see Therese as the people around her saw her, before she became a famous Saint. In this way, I believe we get a more intimate portrayal of Therese, placing her more in our minds (for the agnostics) and hearts (for the Catholics).
This is a beautiful and touching biography of St. Therese of Liseux based on her autobiography. It has detailed description of the life of St. Therese and author's thoughtful evaluation of it.