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Consolations
A beautiful and haunting story of forbidden love, Consolations portrays a woman’s lifelong struggle to reconcile her all-too-human feelings with her quest for the highest spiritual life. It is 1951 and young Fiona Ingram is full of the fervor of a new convert. Following in the footsteps of her inspiration, Thomas Merton, she abandons a promising academic career and enters Epiphany Monastery, ablaze with the certainty that a life dedicated to seeking God alone is the great adventure—and that it is meant for her. What she finds there is not what she Reverend Nathan Woods, a Jesuit and professor of theology who comes to give the annual retreat. When their forbidden affair ends abruptly, Fiona, now Sister Bridget, suffers a split in her soul. Under the guidance of the compassionate abbess, she tries to “reclaim her heart” and her lost fervor. She conforms outwardly as she rises in positions of authority and responsibility in the order, yet she continues to struggle to understand and resolve her relationship with Nathan—all the while carrying on a secret correspondence with him, until she is forced—in a final encounter and spiritual crisis—to dive deep into the still point of her soul and discover the truth.
- GenresFiction
300 pages, Hardcover
First published October 1, 2014
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
August 19, 2015
In theology, “consolation” has a specific meaning other than the common one of “solace after a disappointment.” In her novel, entitled Consolations, Sally Wolfe defines the term as “an interior joy that rises up from the soul and permeates the heart and mind ... the grace of devotion, which bestows rapture and peace.” Wolfe’s novel is about a cloistered nun’s life-long quest for that kind of peace.
Raised by kindly, bookish, agnostic parents, Fiona Ingram is barely out of high school in 1951 when she encounters Thomas Merton’s Seven Storey Mountain, a book that changed a lot of lives. Merton’s autobiography tells of his conversion and decision to enter the Trappist monastery of Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky. Fiona follows suit, converts and presents herself at Epiphany Abbey in New England, where she becomes a novice in the Cistercians of the Strict Observance.
It is amazing to recall that only half a century ago, nuns were still wearing the complete medieval uniform -- wimple, veil, scapular, robe and tunic -- and living by the sixth-century Rule of St. Benedict, observing strict silence, eating no meat, vowing poverty and chastity, singing the Divine Office in Latin throughout the day and much of the night, studying and meditating and, in this case, working a maple syrup farm.
But these are only the outer trappings of the life lived by Fiona, now Sister Bridget. Consolation is granted often after overcoming a spiritual obstacle, and in Sister Bridget’s case this takes the form of a handsome priest -- Father Nathan Woods, soon to become Thomas Merton’s secretary. Neither was expecting to fall in love, nor to have a single night of passion, but it happened. The consequences of their brief physical relationship are life-long, shaping the way they both seek God. Eight years later they meet again, and Father Woods asks, “Who are we? Heloise and Abelard?” Sister Bridget answers, “No, we are not. They chose religious life after the fact -- we chose it before. There’s a difference.”
This is, by the way, not a tale of true love thwarted, but of a hard journey toward enlightenment.
Sister Bridget is eventually sent to found a new abbey in Eagle Nest, New Mexico, a task that includes building an adobe church and convent. The landscapes and descriptions of the labor involved are exquisite.
Wolfe’s novel is beautifully written, rich with quotations from spiritual writings, with an almost Donne-like intermingling of the imagery of spiritual and physical longing. But it is also a witness to history. We watch as Vatican II deconstructs Catholic life under the banner of “renewal.” One by one, the various external supports for a life of monastic devotion are stripped away -- the ancient habit, dietary restrictions, silence, church design, the order of the Mass, the use of Latin, even traditional melodies -- leaving barely more than the individual human soul, still seeking divine consolation.
(review published in the San Antonio Express-News)
Raised by kindly, bookish, agnostic parents, Fiona Ingram is barely out of high school in 1951 when she encounters Thomas Merton’s Seven Storey Mountain, a book that changed a lot of lives. Merton’s autobiography tells of his conversion and decision to enter the Trappist monastery of Gethsemani Abbey in Kentucky. Fiona follows suit, converts and presents herself at Epiphany Abbey in New England, where she becomes a novice in the Cistercians of the Strict Observance.
It is amazing to recall that only half a century ago, nuns were still wearing the complete medieval uniform -- wimple, veil, scapular, robe and tunic -- and living by the sixth-century Rule of St. Benedict, observing strict silence, eating no meat, vowing poverty and chastity, singing the Divine Office in Latin throughout the day and much of the night, studying and meditating and, in this case, working a maple syrup farm.
But these are only the outer trappings of the life lived by Fiona, now Sister Bridget. Consolation is granted often after overcoming a spiritual obstacle, and in Sister Bridget’s case this takes the form of a handsome priest -- Father Nathan Woods, soon to become Thomas Merton’s secretary. Neither was expecting to fall in love, nor to have a single night of passion, but it happened. The consequences of their brief physical relationship are life-long, shaping the way they both seek God. Eight years later they meet again, and Father Woods asks, “Who are we? Heloise and Abelard?” Sister Bridget answers, “No, we are not. They chose religious life after the fact -- we chose it before. There’s a difference.”
This is, by the way, not a tale of true love thwarted, but of a hard journey toward enlightenment.
Sister Bridget is eventually sent to found a new abbey in Eagle Nest, New Mexico, a task that includes building an adobe church and convent. The landscapes and descriptions of the labor involved are exquisite.
Wolfe’s novel is beautifully written, rich with quotations from spiritual writings, with an almost Donne-like intermingling of the imagery of spiritual and physical longing. But it is also a witness to history. We watch as Vatican II deconstructs Catholic life under the banner of “renewal.” One by one, the various external supports for a life of monastic devotion are stripped away -- the ancient habit, dietary restrictions, silence, church design, the order of the Mass, the use of Latin, even traditional melodies -- leaving barely more than the individual human soul, still seeking divine consolation.
(review published in the San Antonio Express-News)
September 19, 2014
Sally Wolfe's first published novel led me through the path of my own life's heartbreaks and renewals through her character's subtle but powerful connections with spirituality, sexuality, and humility.
Her interweaving of Thomas Merton's works is masterful and brings to life some of his teachings about contemplation and relationship through Fiona also known as Sr. Bridget. Crafting curious and wise spiritual reflections through a young woman who is still discovering herself creates a powerful voice. And Sally is able to weave human love and spiritual love together in a way that is relatable and profound, all at once.
The twists and turns of the characters' hearts reminds us that our human journey is both unique and shared. No matter our life choices and paths, we are all subject to loss and tough decisions. And joy can be found in the simplest of places.
Her interweaving of Thomas Merton's works is masterful and brings to life some of his teachings about contemplation and relationship through Fiona also known as Sr. Bridget. Crafting curious and wise spiritual reflections through a young woman who is still discovering herself creates a powerful voice. And Sally is able to weave human love and spiritual love together in a way that is relatable and profound, all at once.
The twists and turns of the characters' hearts reminds us that our human journey is both unique and shared. No matter our life choices and paths, we are all subject to loss and tough decisions. And joy can be found in the simplest of places.
September 23, 2015
Sexual desire in a monastic environment is especially charged. One or both of the parties may agonize over a passion that must not be fulfilled and yet seems impossible to deny. Consolations, by Sally Wolfe (Luminis, 2014), explores this territory with sensitivity and sympathy: a young nun and a priest find themselves thrust into a passion they never expected. But, while most readers will probably root for the lovers to get together in the end, this is really a book about something deeper than romantic love.
Fiona, a young Canadian from a Scottish protestant background, reads Thomas Merton in her late teens and is enthralled. Is the monastic life right for her as well? She visits the only English speaking female monastery in North America of the same order as Merton's – Cistercian – and decides yes. Her father is appalled: after training his daughter in the virtues of rational thinking, he laments that he has lived to see her become “a bloody papist.” Her mother is also opposed, but her response is more measured:
“I don't think you realize what you're giving up, the love of a man.” She ran her fingers through my short, frizzy hair and looked at me intently.
I stiffened. We had been over this.
“It's a thing to be cherished.”
Of course I'd thought of it, but I did not yet know what it was to have someone hold my body closer than my own skin could hold it.
“It's strange,” I said, knowing that nothing I could say would comfort her. “But it's the thing that concerns me the least.”
“You say that now, but it might not always be that way.” [6]
And, indeed, this exchange from early in the book presages Fiona's decades of inner conflict.
It is 1951 when Fiona, who will become Sister Bridget, defies her parents' wishes and enters the monastery in Vermont – a monastery filled with the variety of personalities one would find in any work or living situation. There is the nun who, convinced that adhering precisely to all the rules is the path to grace, insists that her underlings, including Sister Bridget, do so. There is the practical nun who does not reflect much but competently and uncomplainingly handles every situation. And, luckily for Sister Bridget, there is the abbess, Mother Cecilia, who recognizes Bridget's longing for God and takes her under her wing. Mother Cecelia also understands Bridget's passion for Nathan – Father Woods – and believes Bridget has the strength to overcome it. But Cecilia is a feminist scholar, as it turns out, and when she gets in trouble with the patriarchal Church authorities, it is not at all certain that she is going to survive as abbess. Without Cecilia's strength to rely on, what will Bridget do?
Those with spiritual aspirations are often attracted to those with similar aspirations. So it is with Bridget and Nathan. During one of their rare meetings, Nathan shares his love for a poem by John of the Cross:
In a dark night, kindled in love with yearnings – oh, happy chance! –
I went forth without being observed, my house being now at rest.
By the secret ladder, disguised, without light or guide,
Save that which burned in my heart.
This light guided me more surely than the light of noonday
To the place where he (well I know who!) was awaiting me – [54]
After Nathan recites, Bridget comments: “He opened his eyes and I saw that they were gray” – a statement that epitomizes her conflation of spiritual and carnal love.
The back-and-forth between the two would-be lovers could have been a comedy of errors in another kind of book: she thinks he doesn't want her; he thinks she is over him; she thinks she must be strong; he thinks she isn't interested anymore. But this is only the background against which the deeper question unfolds: can Bridget find a way to reconcile her spiritual and carnal longings?
While the story is told from Bridget's first person point of view, we sometimes get a glimpse of Nathan's struggles as well. For example, he confesses to Bridget that he gave up a university professorship and became cloistered as penance for their illicit encounter. (The reader might wonder whether, in a Catholic context, a priest would give himself penance, rather than have it given to him by his confessor. Perhaps this shows not only Nathan's unwillingness to confide his sin to another but also his irrational thinking on the matter of Bridget.) When Nathan decides to become cloistered, he joins the community at Gethsemani, where Thomas Merton is the star resident. Now he and Bridget are both in Cistercian monstaries – and we know that they will meet again.
Thomas Merton makes a brief appearance in the novel, and if the portrait is at all faithful to the real Merton, it is easy to see how his charisma, no-nonsense rabble-rousing, intelligence, depth of spirit, and plain good will endeared him to so many. Indeed, admiration of Merton is another passion that unites Bridget and Nathan.
Just as the cloistered nuns are allowed no idle speech, so Consolations contains no idle words. Each passage precisely conveys what Bridget is undergoing, whether it be desire to ascend to God, to be held and cherished by another human being, or to find solace in solitude and the natural world. The flashbacks to Bridget's pre-monastery days also lend insight to the struggles she endures. We see her strengths but her doubts as well. The tone is so authentic, in fact, that it is sometimes hard to remember that this is a novel, not a memoir.
Even readers who have never felt the slightest desire to join a religious community can recognize in Bridget the struggles we all face when our desires oppose each other. In this sense, the theme of Consolations is universal.
Fiona, a young Canadian from a Scottish protestant background, reads Thomas Merton in her late teens and is enthralled. Is the monastic life right for her as well? She visits the only English speaking female monastery in North America of the same order as Merton's – Cistercian – and decides yes. Her father is appalled: after training his daughter in the virtues of rational thinking, he laments that he has lived to see her become “a bloody papist.” Her mother is also opposed, but her response is more measured:
“I don't think you realize what you're giving up, the love of a man.” She ran her fingers through my short, frizzy hair and looked at me intently.
I stiffened. We had been over this.
“It's a thing to be cherished.”
Of course I'd thought of it, but I did not yet know what it was to have someone hold my body closer than my own skin could hold it.
“It's strange,” I said, knowing that nothing I could say would comfort her. “But it's the thing that concerns me the least.”
“You say that now, but it might not always be that way.” [6]
And, indeed, this exchange from early in the book presages Fiona's decades of inner conflict.
It is 1951 when Fiona, who will become Sister Bridget, defies her parents' wishes and enters the monastery in Vermont – a monastery filled with the variety of personalities one would find in any work or living situation. There is the nun who, convinced that adhering precisely to all the rules is the path to grace, insists that her underlings, including Sister Bridget, do so. There is the practical nun who does not reflect much but competently and uncomplainingly handles every situation. And, luckily for Sister Bridget, there is the abbess, Mother Cecilia, who recognizes Bridget's longing for God and takes her under her wing. Mother Cecelia also understands Bridget's passion for Nathan – Father Woods – and believes Bridget has the strength to overcome it. But Cecilia is a feminist scholar, as it turns out, and when she gets in trouble with the patriarchal Church authorities, it is not at all certain that she is going to survive as abbess. Without Cecilia's strength to rely on, what will Bridget do?
Those with spiritual aspirations are often attracted to those with similar aspirations. So it is with Bridget and Nathan. During one of their rare meetings, Nathan shares his love for a poem by John of the Cross:
In a dark night, kindled in love with yearnings – oh, happy chance! –
I went forth without being observed, my house being now at rest.
By the secret ladder, disguised, without light or guide,
Save that which burned in my heart.
This light guided me more surely than the light of noonday
To the place where he (well I know who!) was awaiting me – [54]
After Nathan recites, Bridget comments: “He opened his eyes and I saw that they were gray” – a statement that epitomizes her conflation of spiritual and carnal love.
The back-and-forth between the two would-be lovers could have been a comedy of errors in another kind of book: she thinks he doesn't want her; he thinks she is over him; she thinks she must be strong; he thinks she isn't interested anymore. But this is only the background against which the deeper question unfolds: can Bridget find a way to reconcile her spiritual and carnal longings?
While the story is told from Bridget's first person point of view, we sometimes get a glimpse of Nathan's struggles as well. For example, he confesses to Bridget that he gave up a university professorship and became cloistered as penance for their illicit encounter. (The reader might wonder whether, in a Catholic context, a priest would give himself penance, rather than have it given to him by his confessor. Perhaps this shows not only Nathan's unwillingness to confide his sin to another but also his irrational thinking on the matter of Bridget.) When Nathan decides to become cloistered, he joins the community at Gethsemani, where Thomas Merton is the star resident. Now he and Bridget are both in Cistercian monstaries – and we know that they will meet again.
Thomas Merton makes a brief appearance in the novel, and if the portrait is at all faithful to the real Merton, it is easy to see how his charisma, no-nonsense rabble-rousing, intelligence, depth of spirit, and plain good will endeared him to so many. Indeed, admiration of Merton is another passion that unites Bridget and Nathan.
Just as the cloistered nuns are allowed no idle speech, so Consolations contains no idle words. Each passage precisely conveys what Bridget is undergoing, whether it be desire to ascend to God, to be held and cherished by another human being, or to find solace in solitude and the natural world. The flashbacks to Bridget's pre-monastery days also lend insight to the struggles she endures. We see her strengths but her doubts as well. The tone is so authentic, in fact, that it is sometimes hard to remember that this is a novel, not a memoir.
Even readers who have never felt the slightest desire to join a religious community can recognize in Bridget the struggles we all face when our desires oppose each other. In this sense, the theme of Consolations is universal.
September 22, 2014
Consolations, a novel by Sally Wolfe
If you’re curious about the contemplative life, particularly about how men and women choose to sublimate or express their sexual /romantic urges then you’ll revel in Consolations. Shortly after entering Epiphany Monastery in 1951 as a novice, Sister Bridget attends a retreat led by a handsome, energetic theologian. As a friend and contemporary of the iconoclastic Trappist monk, Thomas Merton, Father Nathan challenges the long held beliefs of many. It was extremely radical at this time, for example, to profess that a state of grace could be available to anyone. But Bridget is captivated by him, and struggles between choosing a worldly love and remaining committed to her spiritual vows.
While life at the monastery is pared down to the basics, it is far from austere, and this intelligently written novel takes us into minds and locales that are rich in wisdom and beauty. I was fascinated to learn about the powerful abbesses who functioned centuries ago as priests. And about the prescribed bow of the Cistercian order, which could be subtly altered to convey different shades of meaning; in effect, a secret code. References and quotes ranging from Rilke, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Psalms, and St. John of the Cross also serve to set this book well apart from other romantic novels.
Author Sally Wolfe allows us to see how Bridget’s love for Nathan and God are distinct but equally compelling. By the end, I was longing for a life removed from the quotidian, one in which I could ponder and meditate on “the burning questions at the bottom of my soul.”
If you’re curious about the contemplative life, particularly about how men and women choose to sublimate or express their sexual /romantic urges then you’ll revel in Consolations. Shortly after entering Epiphany Monastery in 1951 as a novice, Sister Bridget attends a retreat led by a handsome, energetic theologian. As a friend and contemporary of the iconoclastic Trappist monk, Thomas Merton, Father Nathan challenges the long held beliefs of many. It was extremely radical at this time, for example, to profess that a state of grace could be available to anyone. But Bridget is captivated by him, and struggles between choosing a worldly love and remaining committed to her spiritual vows.
While life at the monastery is pared down to the basics, it is far from austere, and this intelligently written novel takes us into minds and locales that are rich in wisdom and beauty. I was fascinated to learn about the powerful abbesses who functioned centuries ago as priests. And about the prescribed bow of the Cistercian order, which could be subtly altered to convey different shades of meaning; in effect, a secret code. References and quotes ranging from Rilke, Gerard Manley Hopkins, Psalms, and St. John of the Cross also serve to set this book well apart from other romantic novels.
Author Sally Wolfe allows us to see how Bridget’s love for Nathan and God are distinct but equally compelling. By the end, I was longing for a life removed from the quotidian, one in which I could ponder and meditate on “the burning questions at the bottom of my soul.”
October 4, 2014
Sister Bridget enters the service of God at age 19 against the will of her parents who are anti religious. Without their blessing she struggles in the beginning, though her strong beliefs carry her through. Right as things start to go well she falls in love with Father Simon and struggles for years afterward to keep her faith. The story starts out slow, but gives lots of details on the inside of an abbey. Her struggle between her love of God and Father Simon draws you in making you hope for an outcome that can never be.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 22, 2014
Haunting and beautiful, Consolations perfectly balances a fascinating, relatable heroine with meaty themes like spiritual struggle and personal discovery. Once it grabs you, it doesn't let go. I highly recommend it!
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