A Case of Conscience

I finished A Case of Conscience by James Blish quite a while ago, but I delayed writing this because I wanted to consult with Beadbrother to make sure I understood certain aspects of Catholic theology correctly (he's a priest). I had heard about this book through the late, lamented Dirda on Books chat run by Washington Post Book Editor Michael Dirda, and I bought it for Beadbrother thinking he would like it. A year or so ago I asked if he would lend it to me; he agreed to, said he found the book OK, and gave it to me. Only . . . he doesn't remember any of this -- not reading the book, not receiving or lending it, not having it, not even the cover or the title. A bit of a mystery, that. But he was able to confirm my theological assumptions were right.

So, the book. It is about humans, including a Catholic priest, who discover a planet with a sentient, technologically advanced race called the Lithians. The secular scientists of the expedition are mostly preoccupied with the technology and natural resources of the planet, but the priest, Father Ramon, is troubled by what he finds. The Lithians are a seemingly perfect, almost Edenic, race who have never experienced any crime, greed, ambition, pride, or any other sin. They have no need for governments or law, because everyone always does the right thing, the necessary thing to keep their civilization functioning. But they also have no concept of religion or spirituality or faith, no art of any kind, not even a sense of good or evil. They do "good" because that's what they do, but there is no reasoning, no greater concept behind it (I'm not sure I'm explaining this properly). As a result, they seem to have a perfectly moral society without any morals at all, without any involvement from God -- a heresy in the eyes of the Church, because all good ultimately, necessarily, stems from God. Given Father Ramon's unshakeable faith in God, the only explanation he has for this is that all of Lithia is in fact a creation of Satan, to test humans and to make them question whether God is necessary. The problem (according to the book) is that believing Satan could create anything is a heresy itself, Manichaeism. Father Ramon struggles to resolve this conflict, while at the same time deciding what should be done about the Lithians (and whether the Church will have any say at all in the matter given secular interests in the planet).

Blish came up with an unusual subject for a book, created a fascinating race in the Lithians, and handled Father Ramon's faith respectfully. Unfortunately, the book ultimately does not work, both in its theology and in its style. For one thing, it is soon apparent that Blish was not actually a Catholic himself. Father Ramon spends most of the book convinced that he will be defrocked and condemned to hell because the only explanation he can come up with regard to Lithia is heretical; his own faith in God and his desire to be true to Him, his struggle to understand what is going on and reconcile it with his beliefs, do not matter. This sort of thing shows up sometimes when non-Catholics write about Catholicism -- this idea that the slightest slip-up means automatic condemnation, no excuses or explanations, do not pass go, do not collect $200. Catholicism is by no means a religion for wussies, but all too often people forget that forgiveness and mercy are just as important concepts as sin. I have trouble believing that a genuinely faithful priest who is simply trying to make sense of a major theological issue the best he can is doomed for eternity. Especially since the whole thing is hilariously resolved in a five minute interview with the Pope, where the Pope asks Father Ramon if it occurred to him that a non-heretical explanation of Lithia is that it is an illusion constructed by Satan (the father of lies). Father Ramon is floored by such an obvious solution, I laughed out loud, and the scene shows that Father Ramon was not actually a heretic, but a man with incomplete information who was glad to find an orthodox explanation.

Moreover, the theology in the book is itself suspect. For one thing, believing that Satan can create something is not the same thing as the heresy of Manichaeism, which is (as I understand it) in part the belief that evil is a positive source or thing in its own right, rather than the absence of good, which implies (again, I think) that Satan and God are equals. Nor is the belief that Satan can create itself a heresy or otherwise forbidden. In fact, it rather quickly falls apart when one looks at the semantics, because illusions, long considered to be Satan's "specialty," have to be created, just like anything else. (I suppose one could argue that the creation God did is very different from the "creation" we and/or Satan does, which from a physics point of view is really just transformation of matter to energy or vice versa [but then that could be how Lithia was created]; or one could focus on the difference between creating something physical and creating something intangible, but that is way beyond the scope of this review or my expertise.)

Finally, the writing itself was not great. The book is in two parts, with two very different tones (which makes sense, given they were written separately). The first part is really just a series of speeches by the members of the scientific team on Lithia as they describe their impressions. The concepts (scientific and theological) are well thought out, but section feels like one long info dump (and I'm one of those weirdos who actually likes to read exposition). I think Blish could have conveyed a lot of the same information by allowing the readers to follow the members as they traveled and observed and ran experiments, rather than just giving us their speeches after the fact. The second part of the book, which focuses on a Lithian child raised on Earth, is more traditional, but it also suffers from too much telling and not enough showing. Several characters in both parts spend a great deal of time talking about how disturbed and troubled they are by Lithia and what it represents, but with the exception of Father Ramon we never get a clear picture of why they are so disturbed, of what is affecting them so deeply and how. And although we understand why Father Ramon is so upset (it's the point of the book), the language Blish uses to explain it is a little too abstract, too passive, too something, so it creates distance between the Father and the readers, making it harder to really feel for him.

In general, the characters are not fully developed. We spend a lot of time in Father Ramon's head, but we don't learn too much about him aside from his experiences with Lithia and the doubts and problems it creates. This can be forgiven, given that the point of the book is a theological/philosophical exercise. But the other characters are even thinner. Two members of the expedition (Michelis and Agronski, don't ask me which is which) are only there to serve as sounding boards for Father Ramon and Carver, the antagonist of the first part. One falls in love with the scientist who raises the baby Lithian (or so we are told, we certainly don't see it), and the other goes insane (again, we get nothing but a throwaway line that he may have had latent schizophrenia). Carver, however, is the worst, rapidly crossing the line from ordinary, everyday villainy into cartoonish supervillainy.

It's a shame, because despite these flaws I spent a great deal of time thinking about the questions this book raised, both during and after. It's an interesting, if deeply flawed, work.

Can't Catch Me . . .

This advent calendar pocket is a gingerbread man, an image I've been using a lot lately -- I made gingerbread men cookies, I put up a mini collection of felt and paper gingerbread men made by me, the beadboys, and others, and so on. For this pocket I was going to do a standard man with buttons and small rickrack, but then I saw this -- 609East's "Gingies in a row," felt gingerbread men with beautifully intricate embroidery. So I decided to do something similar:

I used the whipped rose stitch, feather stitch, double cross stitch, detached chain stitch, back stitch, blanket stitch, and french knots. Not as elegant as 609East's, but still pretty.

Sometimes a Craft Just Isn't Worth it

To go with my red and white decor this year I thought I could whip up a bunch of simple ornaments from red and white ribbons, using Martha Stewart patterns. The first one, in the Dec. 2009 issue of Martha Stewart Living, was simple enough:
I just tied six overhand knots in the ribbon, facing the same direction, and they naturally formed a six-sided shape. Because the knots are necessarily loose (to keep the ribbon flat) they had a tendency to slide around so I held the first one in place with a safety pin. Once the six knots were formed I tucked the ends of the ribbons in the the knots at each opposite end, and glued the ends in place. I may use a little more glue; the knots seem flimsy, though I suppose there is no way they can actually come undone. I made a bunch for Beadboy1's teachers and therapists and paras (oh my!).

The second pattern, the "medallion ribbon," was from an older magazine -- 2008's Martha Stewart Holiday. This was not so easy. For one, they don't tell you what size ribbon to use, just that the length was approximately one yard and to make accordion folds every inch, then sew a thread "through the layers near the ribbon's cut ends, about 1/4 inch from the edge." Not particularly clear -- I'm pretty sure by "edge" they mean the long edge, not the cut ends, but it could have been worded better. And why specify 1/4 inch there, but use the imprecise "near" for the other measurement? After trying this with 1 inch ribbon and getting a crumpled mess, and examining the picture more closely, I realized I needed to use ribbon that was at least 2 inches wide.

So back to the craft store I went. With a limited selection, I settled for a white crinkly ribbon and a red fine grosgrain ribbon, both with wired edges, but it would be easy enough to remove the wires.

I tried first with the white ribbon, removing the wire (really, fishing line). But the ribbon was very soft and stretchy, and trying to get 36 accordion folds was a disaster. I persevered and ran the thread "near" the ends and 1/4 inch from an edge, and ended up with this:
This is not at all what it is supposed to look like, the folds are completely dissipated. But it is pretty, in a floral, sea-anemone kind of way. I could have gotten the exact same effect by just using a running stitch along one edge and gathering it together.

So then I tried with the heartier red ribbon, and kept the wire to help hold its shape -- a good call on my part, because it helped maintain the folds. I tied the ribbon, and then stared at it. The directions said to fan and flatten the folds, but I couldn't really see how to do that and keep all the folds in the same direction. I began fiddling and squashing, and eventually got this:
(The color is off). This is in fact how the finished product is supposed to look (their center is a bit neater) but I could not for the life of me tell you how I actually achieved this.

The last ribbon ornament was made from three lengths of ribbon coiled into figure eights, and layered to create a six "pointed" star. But the curve of the ribbon meant the top of the ornament would show the back of the ribbon, and even though I used 5/8 inch ribbon like they suggested, I can't actually fit all three on top of each other without squishing the loops.
I think I will just use two figure eights, to make a cross, and flip them over so you can see the stripes. I'll add a red button to the center to hide the ends and glue.

What a disappointment.

More Advent Squares

I finished another three squares for the Advent Calendar.

Dec. 1st:
Just pieces of wool felt to create an advent wreath. I'm quite pleased with the "greenery" -- to get the dimensional look, I layered leaf shapes, attaching them with one long stitch at the base.

Dec. 12:
The Three Kings. They don't show up until Epiphany, so I put them on the 12th to symbolize their arrival 12 days after Christ was born. Unfortunately, the bases of the crowns (different bits of fabric) seem to have shifted when I was ironing them on using fusible web. I embroidered them with different metallic threads and added purple faceted beads.

Dec. 14:
A Christmas tree, on my birthday because when I was growing up we usually put up our tree around then. More wool felt, with beads and tinsel thread I stole from a Christmas cross stitch kit I have not done yet.

This is fun.

Christmas Decorating

This year for Christmas I decided to use red and white to decorate in the house. Unfortunately, because of the beadboys, I can't really have too much up; the safest spot for anything nice is over the mantle. Usually I have a quilt I made there, but this time I wanted to put up something matching my "theme." I did not have time to make a Christmas quilt (though I intend to, someday), so instead I put up a big piece of burlap. Onto this I pinned all the red and white ornaments I had (killing two birds with one stone -- we are going to have a tree this year, but we are not sure we can keep the beadboys from pulling off all the ornaments; this way I can display some of them out of reach). I like the effect quite a bit:
There are some gaps I have to fill in, but that will just be an excuse to make more ornaments.

Despite my red and white theme, I also had to put up the green toy/junk/bead/button wreath (I don't know what to call it) I made. I did all the hard work last year, sewing every green doohickey I could find onto a piece of fabric reinforced with interfacing, and only had to attach it to its base this year.
I had a lot of fun rooting through the kids' toys for odds and ends and broken bits, and through my own stash of beads, charms, buttons, and trim. The idea came from one of the Quilting Arts holiday issues.

The Long-Planned Advent Calendar -- Square 1

For a few years now I've wanted to make an Advent Calendar for the Beadboys, with little pockets to hold treats and trinkets. Two years ago I even cut out 24 little white wool felt squares to serve as the pockets. The plan was to embellish each one with a different design -- Santa Claus for the 6th (St. Nicholas's day), a Christmas tree on the 14th (my birthday, and around the time we used to set up the tree), etc -- then sew them onto a panel (originally a dark red, but I may change my mind). This year I vowed to finally start some of the squares. So behold, the first one:
This square is for the 24th, so it has the Star of Bethlehem. I used fusible web to attach a star cut from dupioni silk (an old pillow) and couched heavy gold braid around it. I then surrounded it with two lines of back stitch in gold blending filament. For the beaded center I sewed on a tiny beaded star I made years ago and edged it with two rows of seed beads. Sparkly! One down, 23 to go!

I really should have come up with this on my own

But instead I had to get the idea from Quilts and More magazine. Although I had bought wool felt beads quite a while ago, I needed to get more because certain members of this household thought they were cat toys. I had plenty of beads, though, to match the colors, and beading them did not take very long. For interest, I used more patterns than the three in the magazine article. Then I made the mistake of leaving them out while I went about my day, and that night I spent a fair amount of time hunting the beaded beads down because of the aforementioned household members (one bead was two floors down, in a blanket). I strung them immediately after that, having learned my lesson.

Mr. Beadgirl calls it the Muppet necklace, because he is convinced one of these days the center turquoise bead is going to start talking.