I have a lot to say about this book, and I don't really know how to start.
I've been researching and thinking about the Christian intellectual for a while now, and when a mentor of mine gave me a copy last year, I was grateful. The name of the book had cropped up before, and I wanted to know what a literate French priest writing in the 1920s and 1930s had to say about it, particularly given what was going on at the time and how the brilliant minds of the time were making sense of it all. I do really love the Modernists (and for the purposes of this review, when I call Sertillanges out on some of his ideas it's because I'm thinking of the Modernists and their project); the vast majority of them were doing their best to make sense of a world in which the old traditions no longer seemed to hold up, and they did it with such honesty, intelligence, novelty, and even a sort of integrity that I find deeply attractive--though most of them were proudly secular and I am proudly not.
Sertillanges, on the whole, disappointed me horribly. He's wildly sexist, and I don't just mean he doesn't think about women and only uses male pronouns. He quite clearly expresses that the role of wives is to support their intellectual husbands, not bother their intellectual husbands with frivolous menial stuff (I am sure child-rearing, running homes, and generally relying on her husband are none of those things), and to sit quietly with her workbasket. (He was, as my mentor apologetically noted, reading the book for the first time in full with me, a French priest). I'll put aside the slight to my own intellectual capacities and experiences for now, but this seemed extraordinarily shortsighted, again, given just who was out there writing at the time. Virginia Woolf. Dorothy L. Sayers. Edith Sitwell. Dorothy Parker. Edna St. Vincent Millay. There are more.
His language is often inordinately grandiose. He's given to broad sweeping statements that are so vague as to be useless; he indulges in repetitive stretches that are short-sighted in their nostalgia (and to me irritating in their flights of often Romantic-style imagery.) One particularly memorable example, trying on a technological image for a change: "The intensity of life being thus in abeyance, the transmission belt of the human motor having passed from the free will of the individual to the free play of cosmic forces..."(82) (I drew a skeptical face in the margins: o.O)
He unquestioningly champions Thomism and by extension, Aristotelianism. I get it, I do: they are clean, logical, clear, and helpful. But again, given the turmoil of the time, where so much of the intellectual work of the day is attempting to sort out how the old traditions and worldviews seemed to fail, it seems shortsighted to me not to fully engage with the ideologies of the time. People just didn't build up their ways of understanding the world on Plato and Aristotle and the old classics--not because people are stupid or willfully ignorant but because as they saw it, they didn't hold up any more. Frankly that seems reasonable to me: who stupidly holds to something they no longer believe in, or that no longer seems to explain the state of things?
On the face of it, that's not necessarily such a big deal: there are always going to be those who won't budge from their nostalgia, thoughtless though I might find it. But to me this points to a much bigger problem underlying Sertillanges' work. I'm still thinking about how to put it into words, but I think it breaks down into two prongs: a lack of compassion towards the human beings behind the minds (or perhaps a sense of their reality), and an academic ethos that doesn't act on, or truly realize, the implications of the Logos for the Christian intellectual. Perhaps it's the Protestant evangelical coming out in me.
To take the first: this nostalgia fails to see the underlying need shaping why culture forms and develops the way it does. When you read secular intellectuals (or heck anyone who doesn't match your definition of intellectual), you can't just come at them from a place of superiority because you can point out the holes in their logic (and Sertillanges knows this. He has moments of utter clarity on this, and yet he doesn't seem to apply it all the way). Out of the issues of the heart the mouth speaks. Yes, sin has blinded us and yes, there are often times we want it to. I don't just mean culture, I mean each of us personally, including Christians. But that's not where secular intellectuals are coming from; for them, having excluded God from the get-go, they are trying to make the world make sense. For a Christian, this should be something we treat with utmost delicacy - if we learn how to read it, it is a map for how to create bridges with our counterparts. They see and are sketching at things we can provide insight into. Not only is the academic pursuit of truth served, but we are thus loving our neighbor and even, perhaps, sharing the gospel with them. (Ask me about this; I can give you examples from my own small academic experiences).
Secondly: Sertillanges flip-flops wildly on this, but his academic ethos would at one moment have you pulling away from the world and at the next engaging in it. I never did quite figure out what's the golden mean here (yes I too can be nerdy like that). But I keep getting tugged back to the Incarnation and specifically one of my favorite verses in the Bible: "And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth" (John 1:14). I've always understood "the Word" here to refer to Jesus not only as the Son of God but also to the magnificence of THE WORD, the logos, the embodiment of Truth and the fulness of knowledge in one actual living flesh and blood fully-God and fully-man person. He came as a nobody: a prosy little carpenter, not wealthy, not elite, an oddball that nobody understood (except maybe Peter in that glorious moment of attestation: you are the Christ, the son of the Living God!)
And he threw himself into the muck of humanity. No Aquinas, no Aristotle, no special treatment for the intellectuals who followed him (and a heck of a lot of scrutiny for the intellectuals who didn't!) I can't help thinking that a Christian intellectual ethic that doesn't foreground this misses the point. If Christ gave up his glory and status to come here and make a way for the nobodies (which we all are, regardless of how much discipline you apply to building up your intellect and pursuing noble Truth), then surely an intellectual who pulls away from the world is being shortsighted and elitist and generally unhelpful.
(Granted, you *can* poke holes in my interpretation here. Like I said, Sertillanges flip flops on what exactly the nature of our interaction with the common world is supposed to be here, and there are places he tries to accommodate my criticism above. Nevertheless, he missed the opportunity to center the intellectual life on the life of Christ--and I think this profoundly damages his argument. If he had brought in Christ as model I think a lot of things would have come into order.)
So there is a lot to criticize. AND YET. And yet. There are moments he's right on the money too - there is a thread throughout the book where he builds up study as a means of worshipping God. I find that idea luminous and so so relatable - there have been moments where God unlocks something for me in my study and I feel like I can float away on a cloud of happiness. I think God hides glimpses of himself for us in our studies, and when he puts it on our hearts to be hungry for learning what we're really hungering for is to see how he's going to illuminate something of who he is for us. This is the delight of the Christian intellectual, and Sertillanges gets it. He's also put a lot of thought into how to understand and structure one's job as a reader and a student in slightly more practical ways and there is value in how he structures that and lays it out for your consideration. This stuff is in chapters 6-8, if you want to read it.
So for all I find to criticize, I must admit there are moments Sertillanges is spectacular.
(Similarly, I must admit I find that annoying too though, to be honest: after all the things that were shortsighted, even considering that he'd think my intellectual experiences less than his since I'm a woman, there are moments where he's so right and my heart is overjoyed with it. Dammit.)