Book 9: Death Comes for the Archbishop

After Father Vaillant dies, Father Latour knows that his time is drawing near also. His life’s work is complete, along with his beloved cathedral. The finished cathedral seems to reflect the Bishop himself. He touts, “How it was of the South, that church, how it sounded the note of the South!” His architect goes on to explain, “Setting is accident. Either a building is part of a place, or it is not. Once that kinship is there, time will only make it stronger.” So it was with the Bishop. He didn’t choose where he would serve his mission, but the kinship was there and the bond grew strong enough that even returning to his homeland of France left him homesick for New Mexico.

When Bernard, one of his Seminarians, assures the sick Latour that one does not die of a cold, the Bishop answers with a smile, “I shall not die of a cold, my son. I shall die of having lived.” I want to one day be able to say the same! The inspiring Latour and Vaillant could both claim that they had truly lived – lived a life of service and sacrifice for their God.

Book 7: The Great Diocese
I admit that I have had a soft spot for Father Latour that I haven’t had for Father Vaillant. But catching a glimpse of how the Bishop views his Vicar really changed my opinion of Vaillant. His memory of when they met was sweet, but seriously, how ugly is this guy? I think all the references to Vaillant’s unfortunate looks are hilarious, including Latour’s observation that Father Joseph was “quite unconscious of his homeliness.” Apparently that level of homeliness usually requires some sort of acknowledgment from the offender. I appreciated Latour’s list of Vaillant’s admirable attributes, though, and I realized I hadn’t recognized them all before. How do you feel about Latour and Vaillant? Has your opinion about one or both of them changed as you’ve continued to read?

I don’t know if it’s an appreciation or just an observation, but I love Father Latour’s description of the Native American presence in the land. He points out, “It was the white man’s way to assert himself in any landscape, to change it…it was the Indian’s way to pass through the land without disturbing it…to vanish into the landscape, not to stand out against it.” Maybe then it was merely a cultural difference and Cather wasn’t necessarily admiring the Hopis and Navajos, but now leaving such a small carbon footprint is definitely impressive.

Book 8: Gold Under Pike’s Peak

Wow! Father Vaillant continues to impress in this book! His willingness to serve God and His people is unwavering. He will literally go anywhere to serve. Although he loves his work and the people in Arizona, he obediently returns to New Mexico only to pack up for the cold discomforts of Colorado. I thought one of his observations about the differences between the Americans and the Mexicans was interesting. He notices, “In his Denver congregation there were men who owned… flourishing businesses, but they needed all their money to push these enterprises. Down among the Mexicans, who owned nothing but a mud house and a burro, he could always raise money. If they had anything at all, they gave.” I think Cather’s cultural observations (I assume to some extent these are her observations and not just her characters’) are really insightful. I think she looks at other cultures and beliefs with real compassion. What do you think?

I’m home from the hospital (for now) and feeling good (for now). Although I’m ready to have this baby, I’m not super excited about being back in the hospital in about two weeks. I usually like a little more time between my stays there. Before I head back though, I want to wrap up this book and put a plug in for the August pick. I would love to hear some more book suggestions, too.

Book 6: Dona Isabella

“Father Joseph said that, as for him, he would rather combat the superstitions of a whole Indian pueblo than the vanity of one white woman.”

Although I think Bishop Latour’s motives are as pure as possible, his desire to build a cathedral in Santa Fe might be his only vain ambition. He admits that “such a building might be a continuation of himself and his purpose, a physical body full of aspirations after he had passed from the scene.” Even Latour is susceptible to the sin of pride – he wants something worldy to show for all his sacrifice and work, some way not to be forgotten.

Latour’s one submission to vanity, however, is rivaled by that of another – Dona Isabella. How funny is it that she would rather give up her inheritance than admit in a court of law – “before everybody!” – her true age? The Bishop and the Vicar have a vested interest in whether or not she receives the money since she will undoubtedly take care of them and maybe throw a generous donation at the cathedral fund as well. The differences between Bishop Latour and Father Vaillant are evident in each of their approaches to convince her to testify of her real age. Vaillant is impatient and impetuous. Latour is gentle and understanding (who doesn’t love this guy by now?). His convincing counsel could be an Oil of Olay slogan: “A woman … is as old as she looks.” My thoughts exactly. Better to impress people with how good you look for your age rather than claim to be ten years younger and secretly shock people with how old you look.

Does anyone (okay, Melissa or Casey) have any ideas about Latour’s feelings that the people he has met (i.e. Carson and Chavez) “not only had a story, but seemed to have become his story?" How have these people contributed to who Latour is and “his story” in the mission field?

Book 5:

Although Cather continues to examine the relationship between the church and the existing culture on some level here, Book 5 seems to focus in on problems the church could face anywhere: men and power.... Or perhaps more accurately, what happens when certain men get some of it. Father Martinez and Father Lucero both have power. Father Martinez uses his power to overindulge his senses... too much food, too much sleep, too many women. (Which for a priest, would be, um, any at all?) Father Lucero uses his power to hoard riches. (Additionally, he is certainly an interesting contrast to Father Martinez. Father Lucero has too little of everything... to little food, too little of even common comforts.)

Father LaTour has power too, but he wields it with compassion and wisdom. There is so much Vaillant in me... Like him, I wanted to see Martinez ousted at once. LaTour has the wisdom to hold off. I also thought it was interesting that LaTour takes the time to find out Martinez's history... giving LaTour perspective on the man, although not using that perspective as justification for Martinez's choices or behavior.

I enjoyed the very end of Book 5, Chapter 2 for a couple of reasons. First, I liked that I was fooled a bit by Lucero's calling for the last rites. I anticipated the abundance of candles around his death bed to mean, perhaps, that Lucero was letting in or accepting light after denying it for so long... that his intentions were pure. Instead, he meant to use the light to stay aware of potential burglars. I also loved the part about the women and the ritual of gathering for a dying man's last words. I laughed that Lucero's words were a nose thumbing directed at Martinez. I really enjoy Cather's sense of humor.

Books 3 & 4:

Living up to her rep, Cather provides us with some amazing descriptions of the landscape. Book 3, Chapter 3 in particular had some of my favorite imagery... including her comparisons of the desert to the first Creation and of the earthly mesas reflected in the sky, one the duplicate of the other. Another image that stuck with me -- the desert as sea... "The sandy soil of the plain had a light sprinkling of junipers, and was splotched with masses of blooming rabbit brush, that olive-colored plant that grows in high waves like a tossing sea, at this season covered with a thatch of bloom, yellow as gorse, or orange like marigolds." (I loved all the colors, too.)

Aside: Many thanks to my trusty pal Google. What would I do without him to show me "gorse" quicker than I can say the word, um, "gorse"?

As I get deeper in to the novel, my affection for LaTour and Vaillant continues to grow. I share Jacinto's respect for LaTour -- so honest, earnest and straight-forward. I also have great affection for Vaillant -- especially when he turns Father Gallegos' parish around from party zealots to religious zealots, each parish member trying to outdo the next with acts of righteousness. So funny!

My one-track mind keeps going back to the question: How does Cather intend for us to feel about the church v. the existing culture? She keeps pushing us back and forth, I think. She gives us things to respect, and question, in both. LaTour, as respectful and insightful as ever, plays upon the similarities to bring the two together. At the end of Book 4, Father LaTour remarks on the superstitions and beliefs of the Indians. He says "that [the Indians] veneration for old customs was a quality he liked... it played a great part in his own religion."

Oh, and also, there was a buttload of imagery and symbolism that I'm to dense to understand completely. My tiny little brain is hurting from trying to figure out "the lips."

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Willa Cather was not a Catholic. (This is something she and I have in common.) Still, Death Comes for the Archbishop clearly empathizes with the plights and has reverence for the priorities and endeavors of the two priests. I like this.

I think the novel takes for granted that the mission of the priests is indeed good and worthy. I bring this up because I wonder if some might question these kinds of works of the church, any church. I think some might ask: Is it necessary to impose this religion on the natives of the New Mexico territory? Does it contribute to the destruction of the Native American culture?

Of course, my own life experiences give me empathy of my own for the priests. I sincerely believe in the need for sacraments done with the proper authority (or ordinances, in the case of my own religion and, let's face it, probably yours too).

So, what do you think? Did Cather intend for us to ever question the missions and purposes of Bishop Latour and Father Vaillant?

Books 1 & 2:

Bahahahaha! Didn't you think it was funny when the old woman on Lujon's ranch determines that Father Vaillant is so ugly that "he must be very holy" (Book 2, Chapter 1)?

Cather does seem to make a connection between appearance and spirituality. Despite the old woman's contention that holiness is next to ugliness, Cather draws a more traditional line between goodness/beauty and evil/ugliness. A case for both can be found in Book 2, Chapter 2 with Buck Scales and his wife, Magdalena. The murderer Scales is described as an "ugly, evil-looking fellow... ill-formed." On the other hand, after Magdalena devotes her life to service in the church "she became beautiful... she seemed to bloom again in the household of God."

One of my favorite parts of the book so far is the idea put forth by Bishop Latour that divine love corrects human vision. Bishop Latour tells Father Vaillant, "I do not see you as you really are, Joseph; I see you through my affection for you" (Book 1, Chapter 4). So later, when the Bishop sees Magdalena again and says that she "became beautiful", I doubt that she had changed all that much physically. I believe the Bishop just saw her more this time with divine love.

And isn't that just totally awesome?