I seem to be spending this summer doing nothing much except reading, but the different piles of books that surround me indicate quite different pursuits and pleasures.
The largest pile of books has to do with my current (almost completed) research project. Tentatively entitled Lifting a Veil on Liturgy’s Past: Gender, History, and the Making of Liturgical Tradition, the book is an inquiry into the writing of liturgical history: what we think we know, what we can know, and what, at this point in time, we ought to know, given the insights that have emerged with the interpretive tools of gender history. I understand gender history as attending to all gendering processes, not only the historically prominent binary of “women” and “men” but also such gender identities as, for example, intersexed persons, ascetic virgins, eunuchs, and priestly men. Since my focus is on the early Christian centuries, the piles of books related to my research include many prominent (but also not so prominent) early Christian writings as well as books on early Christian art and architecture, and the relevant literature on gender history. I love my sustained reading of these ancient texts.
Then there is the pile of books that make up my devotional reading. Besides the Book of Psalms, which is the most important book in the world to me, and a couple of books on the lives of the saints that enable me to understand and honor more deeply the memorial days of the saints, there is currently a slender and intriguing volume titled Our Sound is Our Wound: Contemplative Listening to a Noisy World (Continuum, 2010). The author, Lucy Winkett, is Canon Precentor of St. Paul’s Cathedral, London, and a trained soprano. Her book was chosen by the archbishop of Canterbury as his 2010 Lent Book. From what I have read so far, the book makes for a wonderful summer reading too.
My next pile of books currently consists of one book only. This is never a large pile in any case, since it is reserved for scholarly volumes that also are a profound pleasure to read. For this summer, Margot Fassler’s new book promises me this rare combination. I cannot wait to start her The Virgin of Chartres: Making History through Liturgy and the Arts (Yale University Press, 2010). Knowing Margot, this book will both enlighten and delight me.
Finally, there is a pile of novels that always seems to grow rather than diminish over time, even during the summer months. Having just finished Tracy Chevalier’s new novel Remarkable Creatures, I am now in the middle of Elizabeth Kostova’s The Swan Thieves. The book is fabulous. I am not sure which of the many novels in this pile I will pick up next.
And then there is yet another pile of books wanting to form, catalogues of current art exhibits. I have twice seen the wonderful exhibition at the Yale University Art Gallery, “Italian Paintings from the Richard L. Feigen Collection” (many of them paintings with religious themes, and I am eager to see the current Philadelphia Museum of Art exhibition titled “Late Renoir.” I only hope I can get there before the summer draws to a close!
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