Tag Archives: writing

Peel Me A Grape

Over the past couple of weeks, several of my Tweeps – i.e. Twitter friends – who read this blog regularly and promote it on Twitter and elsewhere, have commented that they don’t know how I can write such in-depth posts as I do on a daily basis. Over the past (nearly) five years that I’ve been blogging, most weekdays I publish a post in the range of 1,000-1,500 words. I get a great deal of pleasure out of this, not only from the interaction with my readers, but also from the actual research and writing process.

That being said, sometimes the self-imposed pressure to publish a long piece every day wears me out. I don’t make a living from my writing, and so I don’t have an editor or publisher pushing and goading me to produce what I do. And last night while listening to Catholic new media guy extraordinaire Greg Willits on a podcast episode of “The Catholics Next Door”, I was reminded that sometimes I need to take a break, particularly when I’m feeling a lot of poking and pulling from many different areas in my life – health, work, personal, spiritual, and so on.

So I’m taking a bit of a blogging vacation, but I will be back next Monday. Hopefully you will stick around and check back then. In the meantime, if you’re itching for things by me to read, try using the “Search” box on this blog to pull up some of 900-odd previous posts I’ve written. Thanks for your continued support, and I look forward to writing more for you soon.

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Friendship and Frivolity

For those of us who scribble, today is an important date in the calendar for it is the Feast of St. Francis de Sales (1567-1622), patron saint of writers and journalists.  Yet before you tune out, gentle reader who is a non-Christian, I’d like you to consider some of what he wrote about other subjects.  Like Count Baldassare Castiglione, whose writing inspired and continues to inspire some of the subjects considered on this blog, St. Francis has quite a lot to say about how people should behave in society – which, as it happens, is still very relevant to us today, and particularly with respect to the friendships and attachments we form.

The reason St. Francis de Sales was named as the patron saint of writers and journalists, by Pope Pius XI, was not only because he wrote a number of important books, but also because of his methods.  In his efforts to evangelize and persuade people to come into the Church he often hand-wrote what today we would call flyers or tracts, which he would slip under the front door of homes who would not let him come in and speak to them.  One could also perhaps accuse him of starting the habit of leaving Chinese take-away menus under windshield wipers, but that is beside the point.

I have written previously about how St. Francis de Sales had some very sensible thoughts about fashion, of all things, which you might not expect from a man who was Bishop of Geneva and named a Doctor of the Church because of his significant theological writing and scholarship.  He recognized the reality that most people are not going to dress like nuns and hermits, particularly people who are well-to-do and have obligations to perform in society.  It is interesting that his thoughts, following the Reformation, are exactly in line with Castiglione’s own thinking and writing on this subject, before the Reformation took place.  The world may have changed dramatically during that intervening century, but the idea of good taste being marked by some degree of restraint is one which runs like – if you will forgive the expression – a thread through their work, and even up through the work of couturiers like Coco Chanel or Giorgio Armani.

Another area on which the two men agree has to do with what we might refer to as the formation of “serious” friendships, as opposed to superficial ones based on unimportant matters. Thinking that because two people like to follow the career of the same pop tart or the same sports team that said persons are, in fact, friends, is putting the cart before the horse. It may be a basis to begin building a friendship, but it cannot be the only basis for a true one.

Today one can look at the “Trending” column on Twitter, gossip magazines, or frankly even at most formerly-legitimate news outlets, and see all sorts of reports and commentary about entertainers, celebrities, or people who are famous for being famous. However this frivolity is nothing new, as St. Francis noted back in the 17th century. In criticizing the empty-headed people of his own day, he notes:

They do not at all hesitate to say: Such a gentleman has many virtues and perfections, for he dances gracefully, he plays well at all sorts of games, he dresses fashionably, he sings delightfully, speaks eloquently, and is good looking; thus mountebanks esteem those the most perfect among themselves who are the greatest buffoons But as all these things regard the senses, so the friendships which proceed from them are termed sensual, vain, and frivolous, and deserve rather the name of foolish fondness than of friendship; such are the ordinary friendships of young people, which are grounded on mustaches, locks, and glances, on clothes, affectation and chatter; friendships suited to the age of those lovers whose virtues are yet only tendrils, and their judgment only in the bud; such friendships are only temporary.

Perhaps today one would be hard-pressed to find a friendship grounded in a mutual appreciation of mustaches, though admittedly stranger things have happened. St. Francis is not saying that it is a bad thing to strike up a conversation with someone based on a mutual appreciation of or opinion on something frivolous, such as a television show. What he is saying is that those who never begin to discuss more serious matters with the people whom they spend time with are not really forming friendships at all, even if they refer to such relationships that way. These types of relationships have no real value, and can lead to a lowering of standards, as well as encouraging laziness, bad behavior and poor choices.

Similarly, Castiglione recognized the difference between frivolous attachment and serious friendship, and noted that those who associated with frivolous people would themselves be found frivolous, and lose their reputations:

But another thing seems to me to give and to take away from reputation greatly, and this is our choice of the friends with whom we are to live in intimate relations; for doubtless reason requires that they who are joined in close amity and fast companionship, shall have their desires, souls, judgments and minds also in accord. Thus, he who consorts with the ignorant or wicked, is deemed ignorant or wicked; and on the contrary, he who consorts with the good, the wise, and the discreet, is himself deemed to be the like. Because by nature everything seems to join willingly with its like. Therefore I think we ought to use great care in beginning these friendships, for he who knows one of two close friends, at once imagines the other to be of the same quality.

In both cases, neither man is saying that all of our relationships must be serious ones. After all, serious friendships cannot arise until there is at least some initial contact based on a shared interest or experience. Social occasions, entertainments, or even chance meetings have always lead to more intimacy, both in the Renaissance Europe of St. Francis and Castiglione, as well as in our own day. And certainly in the present age social media has made it possible for more people living at wider distances from one another to be able to form new relationships.

What both men are saying, however, is that a love of the vapid and the shallow is ultimately not a good basis for forming anything. Society presently elevates and celebrates frivolous, ongoing sexual encounters among unmarried people, or staged weddings spread across the pages of glossy publicity magazines, as being equivalent to a solemn, sacramental marriage between two adults before God, and we can see where that has brought us. Therefore it should not surprise us to find that, similarly, “friendship” has been cheapened to something which is really little more than an acquaintanceship, at best, and at worst, possibly a bad influence on our intellectual, moral, and spiritual health.

When the world has gone topsy-turvy, and paradoxically embraced “no standards” as THE standard, we do not need to re-invent the wheel to try to look to some sanity about the example we set for others.  History is there for us to make use of, if we will but take the time to do so.  So I suggest, gentle reader, that you take the counsel of these two noble writers from one of the high periods of Western culture to heart, and consider whether you are wasting your time on frivolous relationships, or whether you are, in fact, working on forming true friendships which will do you, the other person, and society as a whole some good.

Detail of “Members of the Amsterdam Goldsmiths’ Guild” by Thomas de Keyser (1627)
Museum of Art, Toledo, Ohio

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Tell Me: Is There A Point to This?

In convivial company last evening I discussed writing, including this blog, with someone who is a far more-widely published and well-respected writer than I, and was very glad to hear some of the kind things he had to say about the type of blog pieces that I come up with on frosty mornings such as this one.  Now that we have a long and equally frosty three-day weekend approaching – thanks to Monday being a Federal holiday here in the U.S. – I will hopefully have some time to reflect on his words, and deal with several maintenance issues on this site as well as on the other two domains I maintain.  As I have written previously, there are a number of goals I have set out for myself for this year, have engaged the commitment of a well-read blogger to help me keep focused on those goals through periodic meetings and reviews of where things are going, and I am excited to see how things will turn out.

Yet one thing that I took away from last evening’s conversation was that I need to get some sense of exactly where The Courtier ought to be headed.  The point – and I assure you there is one – of this particular blog is to try to keep as much as possible to the spirit of Count Castiglione, who advised the gentlemen of his day to develop a curiosity about, and the ability to engage in discussion in, as many topics of interest as possible, without merely being a dilettante.  His ideal was that fair assessment of your own abilities or lack thereof in particular areas ought to be looked at head-on, and then the courtier should work on improving those areas where he could improve, and engage in further building on those talents he already possessed.

If you read these pages on a regular basis you know that I often write about the arts (painting, architecture, film, and so on), Western culture and history, and Catholic things, for these are the areas which particularly interest me; they are not, however, the only subjects treated here.  So it is sometimes hard for me to tell, given the diversity of the subject matter I treat on this blog, why people are interested in reading my writing.  For example, last evening I was told that a piece I had written about how to deal with difficult friendships via social media was good, whereas the day before I had received an email from someone telling me how much they enjoyed a piece I had written about the doors at St. Stephen Martyr parish here in Washington.  These are rather disparate areas of inquiry, I think you would agree.

While I always welcome feedback on my writing, I am particularly hoping that over this long weekend some of my readers will take the time to either leave comments on this post, or to write me privately using the contact information available on this site or using the contact form at http://wbdnewton.com to let me know what you like, what you don’t like, what I should add, or what I should take away, to make your visits here more pleasurable and useful.  The more frank you are, the more it will help me in trying to make this a place which you look forward to visiting on a daily or weekly basis.

I cannot of course hope to be all things to all people – this site will never engage in in-depth political analysis or sports reporting, for example – nor would I want to even attempt such a thing.  I know my strengths and weaknesses, more or less, and so the issue is one of fine-tuning rather than a total renovation of what is already here.  Nor can I promise for certain that leaving suggestions, comments, and criticism for my consideration will necessarily result in changes which you personally would like to see, if I or others happen to strongly disagree with you.

However without that feedback, good or bad though it may be, I cannot even consider whether anything ought to be changed in the first place.  This is not a subscription magazine, or an income-earning venture for me, where if profits drop then I have a measurable, tangible way of knowing I may be doing something wrong.  Rather, this is something I enjoy to do when I have the time to do it, and I am humbled that so many of you like to read my thoughts on matters great and small, and share your own views and experiences with me.

For that to continue, and for things to improve, sharing your point of view with me over the next day or two would be a gift of your time, for which I would be very grateful, as this blog heads toward its 4th year of existence.

Detail of “The Geographer” by Johannes Vermeer (c. 1668-1669)
Städelsches Kunstinstitut, Frankfurt

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The Importance of the Important in Social Media

In the Twitterverse and in the Blogosphere, if my readers will forgive my using these rather clunky, made-up terms, there is an occurrence which one can liken to the “You’re a nice guy, but…” speech at the end of a first and last date.  This is the dreaded – again, my apologies –  ”unfollow”, when someone stops following your Twitter account or your blog.  Distinctions must be made, however, between unfollows and unfollows, which may not be apparent to those who do not blog or tweet.

If you are following someone who never follows you back, perhaps because they are very prominent, chances are you will not be offended if the prominent individual never interacts with you.  For example, I follow the National Gallery of Art’s Twitter feed, even though I have no expectation that they will ever interact with me on Twitter or read my blogs.  Though truthfully, I would not mind working in their executive level someday, but that is as may be.

If someone prominent follows you first, however, then this is a different matter altogether.  Whether it is a well-known journalist or magazine who likes your blogging/tweeting, or a celebrity who finds you amusing, having that kind of feedback can be wonderfully encouraging for a writer or for a user of social media to meet and connect with people.  It is like an endorsement that maybe you are a decent writer, or an interesting  raconteur, after all.

So when that well-known person or publication stops following your blog or your social media account, it can inevitably feel like a rejection. “What did I do wrong?” is the inevitable question you ask yourself.  And even if there is a legitimate, non-personal reason as to why the other has moved elsewhere, it still feels like a punch in the gut – or indeed, being told that you are not suitable dating material.

It is interesting to note that because of contemporary social media, we can actually experience these sorts of feelings, which used to be limited to those of our immediate acquaintance.  Our grandparents might have written a letter to a prominent person, institution, or publication and never had a reasonable expectation of receiving a reply.  Nor would that recipient necessarily have even been aware of our grandparents’ existence, unless of course they were prominent people in some way, themselves. Yet today, in part because of our celebrity-obsessed culture, if we interact with someone of prominence, we can feel as though we have a connection which we do not, in fact, have.

Last evening for example, I was watching a documentary about Britain’s Queen Elizabeth II and various events she had to attend, including her annual garden party at Buckingham Palace. Although around 2,500 ordinary people were invited to the event, only about 100 would have the opportunity to be presented to the Queen herself.  The rest would have to make do with watching her do a walk-about in her back yard, before retreating to the royal tent to meet with fellow aristocrats, diplomats, and politicians, with whom presumably she would be more familiar on a personal level.  One of those in attendance who did manage to be presented to the Queen was surprisingly effusive about it, and how gracious and beautiful the Queen was in their few minutes together; the rest were disappointed to some degree, but got over it.

Another event was a visit to a county seat, where the Queen stopped in to a daycare center to meet with the staff and some of the mothers.  This was far more informal, as the children continued to play around the monarch, kicking balls and making noise as toddlers tend to do.  Most of the women shown were informally – that is, sloppily – dressed, and did not seem to care much that the Queen was there.  Indeed, some of them even said so after she had left, meaning the opportunity was wasted on them.

Most of those reading this pages, I would hazard a wager, are not celebrities or particularly prominent people.  Like me you are ordinary people who try to do the best you can each day with the talents and abilities you have been given, but still like to make time to read and to reflect on things for at least a few minutes each day – given the general length of the blog posts I write, you could hardly be otherwise.  I do not make a living from my writing, nor do I have any reasonable expectation of doing so: for me, it is something I feel called to do, but not something meant to be a full-time venture.

Perhaps for those of us who do write and try to actively engage with others on social media, and hope to be read more widely as I mentioned yesterday, when a prominent person takes an interest we are a little more aware of something beyond the “coolness” factor of it.  A connection like that could lead to positive and helpful feedback to improve our writing, and maybe even the chance to do a bit more writing for a wider audience.  When that connection is lost, an avenue for reaching a potential growth feels lost as well.  Those who do not write at length or often may not understand this, but if you have ever tried out for a sports team or competed for a role in a theatrical or musical performance and been cut after having made it to at least some higher level of selectivity, that is perhaps the closest analogy I can provide.

In the end, however, no prominent group or person owes us anything, if they voluntarily choose to interact with us via social media, and then for whatever reason choose no longer to do so.  One of the dangers of social media is a sense of over-familiarity which we would (hopefully) never attempt in real life, but which the relative safety of social media allows us to engage in.  One does not embrace or touch The Queen upon meeting her, unless one wants to be considered a bounder.

And who knows? Perhaps at some point a change of heart will occur, or another possibility may open up.  That would be the better way to deal with the realization that you are not, in fact, as important as perhaps you thought yourself to be – what a good lesson that is for all of us to learn.

The Queen takes a stroll in the back yard

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The Courtier Writes for The Kernel

I hope you will forgive my absence for the past few days, gentle reader, but I have been busy with several projects and plans ahead of my trip to Barcelona on Thursday. So I am pleased to be able to make up for my silence with a very lengthy – and I hope, interesting – article on Catholics using new media, which was published this morning in a new online magazine, The Kernel.  The publication plans to introduce thoughtful commentary and reporting on technology in society, and I am honored to have been included in their first number.

Not only was I fortunate enough to be able to interview a number of people whose work online I have admired and appreciated for some time, but I hope the resulting piece will prove interesting to those in the tech community, not just the Catholic community. In addition to the article itself, which you can read here, imbedded in the piece you will be able to listen to a 15-minute interview of me by the magazine’s Managing Editor, Stephen Pritchard, about some of the themes I reported on, and also a consideration of some of the broader themes and implications for Catholics in the future as more and more of us use new media resources to reach out to one another. You may or may not agree with some of my views, but of course that is part of the conversation which I hope that you may want to engage in with others.

I want to thank Stephen, and Editor-In-Chief Milo Yiannopoulos, for giving me the opportunity to write for them in this inaugural edition of their new publication, as well as all of my fellow practitioners of popery who shared their time and their thoughts with me for the piece, including Katherine Barron, Danielle Bean, Deacon James Bradley, Lisa Hendey, Sean McCarney, Thomas Peters, Brother Innocent Smith, Father Cory Sticha, Brandon Vogt, and Matthew Warner. I am pleased that so far there has been some good feedback not only from the participants in the piece, but also on Twitter, Facebook, and in email, from friends and from people whom I do not yet know.

Whether or not I will be invited to write for The Kernel again – and one hopes that it will be the case, for they are a good bunch of people – it has been a terrific opportunity for me to write for someone else for a change, and hopefully I will be able to continue to do so from time to time for them and for others. So if you should happen to be a magazine or blog editor reading this piece, please feel free to contact me via the form on my author site, wbdnewton.com and let me know your thoughts.  I love the creative process for my own work, of course, but commissions from others can be very rewarding for the intellect as well.

On a more practical front, although I am leaving for Barcelona on Thursday, do not think that I will necessarily stop blogging during my trip there for Christmas. In theory, I will be able to blog while I am there, so stay tuned and see what happens in the meantime. Internet connections in Barcelona are, in my experience, not particularly reliable compared to the U.S., but there is always hope that I can get something out, sharing some of my experiences as I stroll about the Catalan capital enjoying the bright sunshine and excellent coffee.  I will do my best to keep my readers posted – as it were.


Detail of “Portrait of a Young Man” by Bronzino (c. 1550)
National Gallery, London

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