WRITING SAMPLE
Excerpt from: Carthusian Desire
Thesis 2014 BA Religion, Reed College
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Citation McCarty, Joshua. Carthusian Desire (Portland, OR: Reed College, 2014), 1-18. Introduction
“The goal of Carthusian life is union with God in Love.”1
- A Carthusian
A singular dictum pronounced in concert by the Carthusians inaugurates and defines their life.2 It also provides the directional vector for this thesis: time and again, this desire, a singular goal of uniting with God in Love, emerges as constitutional of the Carthusian form- of-life.3 Indeed, the argument put forth here is that the Carthusian is defined by desire, a central axis around which their lives are constructed. But what this desire means and how it influences their life is yet to be established. In particular, this thesis will pursue two successive questions about the Carthusian subject, all fundamentally answered in regards to this desire: What is the Carthusian body and what is Carthusian time? This inquiry pursues an understanding of Carthusian desire, manifest in their literature and architecture, as it relates to practices, conceptualizations, and goals. Although these monastics almost completely forbid access to their spaces, they do permit a few entry points we can pursue. Using their Statutes, letters written by their Priors, maps, ethnographies, documentaries, historical accounts, and, the texts of primary focus here, a series of anonymously written “reflections,” one can draw a blueprint of the Carthusian body. In conjunction with philosophical writings, ascetical studies, and historical contexts, the image begins to sharpen. But we must first survey the lay of the land, coming to an
1 A Carthusian, First Initiation into Carthusian Life (Herefordshire: Gracewing, 2010). 2 Indeed, the terms monastic and monk derive their etymology from the Ancient Greek monos (µόνος) meaning single, solitary, or alone. For a Carthusian treatment of monk, and the corresponding importance of simplicity, see (ibid., 75). 3 A term I adopt from Giorgio Agamben, without his political agenda however, as his “attempt—by means of an investigation of the exemplary case of monasticism—to construct a form-of-life, that is to say, a life that is linked so closely to its form that it proves to be inseparable from it,” lies outside the scope of this project (The Highest Poverty: Monastic Rules and Form-of-Life, 2013, xi). Nonetheless, this observation of the consistency between a life lived and its form is useful when considering the Carthusians. For a more developed exploration of the Carthusian relationship between actual and ideal selves, see “Rhythm” in Ch. 2.
2 understanding of the term Carthusian and its relationship to broader scholarly concepts, such as monk, monastery, and asceticism. To do so, this introduction will firstly pursue historical lines, of both the Carthusians and Christian monasticism more broadly; and then, after a deepened understanding of this project’s goal, we will review the available methodologies within the field of religious studies to pursue the question before us; namely: What is the Carthusian body in its relationship to this goal of union with God?
Coalescence, a history of the Carthusians
Take the idea of coalescence – multiple substances coming together to form a whole, almost unintentionally, or at least without a directing agent with an explicit goal. It is in this sense that we can say the Carthusians coalesce since it was not (the man we now know as) Saint Bruno’s goal to start a new monastic Order. Indeed this idea of coalescence returns throughout their history as the structural architecture (of buildings, but also of individuals, rules, practices, and narratives) slowly begins to sediment, change, and stabilize. As their history reflects, the opaque catalyst for Carthusian coalescence is desire. In 1084 CE, after renouncing a life in the world he experienced as flawed, broken, and obstructive,4 St. Bruno began La Grande Chartreuse5 monastery in the Alps of present-day
4 Indeed, he left his prestigious position of chancellor of the Reims cathedral because of the new archbishop Manasses, who took power by way of simony, criticized, and abused his position. These offences were sacrilege in the eyes of Bruno as, for example, singing Mass is one of the few times Bruno would later, as a monastic, permit himself to speak while Manasses complained about its requisite as archbishop. Cf. Abbot of Nogent-sous-Coucy Guibert, A Monk’s Confession : The Memoirs of Guibert of Nogent (University Park, Pa: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1996). It should also be noted that, although there is incentive to see Bruno’s exodus (1069-1070) solely as political defeat, there is evidence against that limited view. As André Louf argues, Bruno’s contemporaries expected him to fill the archbishop’s seat, rather than Manasses “who stripped Bruno of his position and banished him from the diocese.” But, as Louf also rightly points out, Bruno had made a resolution at an earlier time to become a monastic. (André Louf and Demetrio S. Yocum (translator), “Saint Bruno,” Cistercian Studies Quarterly 48, no. 2 [2013]). Cf. “St. Bruno’s Letter to Raoul le Verd” in A Carthusian, The Wound of Love: A Carthusian Miscellany. (England: Gracewing Ltd, 2006). Moreover, in 1080 during Manasses’s deposition, Bruno, a potential candidate for archbishop, instead decided to renounce everything. (Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love: Vocation and Discernment (Leominster, Herefordshire: Gracewing, 2006), 1.) For a Carthusian treatment of this history, see “Notes on a Carthusian Order” in (Carthusians, The Way of Silent Love: The Beatitudes [Herefordshire: Gracewing, 2006], 125–131).
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Savoy, France. Bruno ordered his life in a particular way, such that others wanted to do the same; his goal and practice in pursuit of God produced an allure6 that drew others to him, and so the Carthusians begin to coalesce.7 Only twenty years later in 1104 CE, we receive the first account of the Carthusians, now an established community imitating the form-of-life put forth by Bruno (although he had already departed).8 From a Benedictine monastery nearby, Abbot Guibert of Nogent tells the origin story:
… once [Bruno] had left the city he decided to renounce the world. Fleeing all contact with his friends he made his way to the region of Grenoble. There he chose to live on the promontory of a steep and truly terrifying mountain that one could reach only by way of a rugged and rarely used path. Beneath this path opened the abyss of a deep valley. It was there that Bruno established a way of life that I am about to describe. His followers pursue it to this day.
The church is not far from the foot of the mountain, within a fold of its downward slope. Thirteen monks live there. They have a cloister that is well suited for the cenobitic life, but they do not live cloistered
5 This monastery is named after the mountain upon which it was founded. Chartreuse is French for the Latin Cart(h)usia. The alcoholic beverage “Chartreuse” is produced by the Carthusians from herbs growing on the mountain. These terms (Carthusian, Chartreuse, etc.) along with others such as Charterhouse derive from the Latin name for this mountain. 6 When discussing the importance of architecture for human orientation (and, hence, understanding/ constitution) in space, Lindsay Jones asserts, moreover, that the “initial presentation of unity, harmony, and order, which is characteristic of so much sacred architecture, most often functions as the strategy that allures ritual participants from their ‘spoilsport’ status into the religio-architectural game” (Lindsay Jones, Harvard University, and Center for the Study of World Religions, The Hermeneutics of Sacred Architecture: Experience, Interpretation, Comparison. Vol. 2, Hermeneutical Calisthenics : A Morphology of Ritual-Architectural Priorities (Cambridge, Mass.: Distributed by Harvard University Press for the Harvard University Center for the Study of World Religions, 2000). It is in this sense that allure is used here; St. Bruno’s architecture of life, a focused life structured by certain practices and ideas, not only orients a Carthusian in the world, but also incites them further into the practices. 7 His “excellent reputation among the churches in Gaul at this time” (Guibert, A Monk’s Confession.) surely did not hurt, and most likely contributed to, his growing following. He did have six companions upon the foundation on Chartreuse. Together they were four clerics, one priest, and two converse brothers (Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love, 2). 8 Urban II had called him away to Rome as a counselor. He would never to return to Chartreuse. For an overview of what the Carthusians consider the major events and epochs of his life, see The Call of Silent Love, 1–2. He left without leaving behind any guidelines, a Rule, not even a book or sermon: evidence that he did not intend to start a lasting Order.
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as do other monks. Rather, each has his own cell around the perimeter of the cloister, in which he works, sleeps, and eats.9
As a Benedictine, another form of Catholic monasticism, Guibert cannot help but note some differences between the lives of these men and those of his own community. Not only does the remoteness of this community come across in Guibert’s portrayal, but also its size and unique structure. Guibert seems to have been particularly struck by the remoteness of location, the difficulty of reaching this “abyss” in which the Carthusians made their home. There was something ancient and otherworldly about the situation of these monks. According to literary relics describing the early monastic enterprises, Christian monasticism was born in the deserts of Egypt around 300 CE, and defined by its renunciation of the inhabited world, both in its geographic location and its ideals and practices. While earlier Christians had been practicing asceticism, strict denial of oneself, a form of practice or bodily exercise and training (askesis), it seems to have occurred in the context of and in contact with other Christian and non-Christian members of society. When St. Anthony the Great, considered the father of Christian monasticism, withdrew from society in 270 CE, he sought complete solitude, an image reminiscent of the description we just received of Bruno.10 On another similar note, Anthony soon found that he had devotees coalescing, committed to
9Guibert, A Monk’s Confession, 31. 10 Saint Athanasius, The Life of St. Anthony the Great : 17 Jan 356 Written A.D. 357 (Willits, Calif: Eastern Orthodox Books, 198AD). First translated from Greek to Latin by Evagrius, the bishop of Antioch, as noted by St. Jerome in his De Viris Illustribus (Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, eds., “De Viris Illustribus (On Illustrious Men),” trans. Ernest Cushing Richardson, Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1892), Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight.
5 learning from him by emulating his practice.11 And indeed, as we shall see, the Carthusians derive much more than an extreme remoteness from these desert monks, some of which their Catholic counterparts also inherit, but also much of which they do not. The next striking dimensions of Guibert’s description are the size and organization of the Carthusians. “They do not live cloistered as do other monks,” he claims, referencing what had become the highly standardized cenobitic form of monasticism.12 Cenobitic monasticism is a tradition that stresses the importance of community and derives its organizational structure from this value, developing a conception of asceticism dependent upon it.13 Like nearly all monastics in the Catholic sphere,14 Guibert’s Benedictinism is an articulation of this form. The Carthusian structure, on the other hand, bears much semblance to the eremitic monastics of Egypt, and the derived traditions in Palestine, Syria, and later Asia Minor.15 Eremitism, derived through the same etymological pathway as hermit,
11 Philip Schaff and Henry Wace, eds., “Athanasius of Alexandria: VITA S. ANTONI [Life of St. Antony] (written between 356 and 362),” Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Athanasius: Select Works and Letters, Series II (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1892), chap. 13–14. 12 But, it should be noted that this period had seen a dramatic increase in hermit ascetics attempting to strike off on their own. However, none of them were so successful in terms of durability and reconciliation with the Church (see fn. 9 above). 13 For key examples of cenobiticism, see the central proponent in the West, Saint Benedict, St. Benedict’s Rule for Monasteries (Collegeville, Minn: The Liturgical Press, 1948); or the older and less known The Rule of the Master = Regula Magistri (Kalamazoo, Mich: Cistercian Publications, 1977). Moreover, these divisional roots extend far back: e.g., see David Knowles for the development of cenobiticism in relation to Pachomius, the Egyptian father of the “common life” form of Christian monasticism (From Pachomius to Ignatius: A Study in the Constitutional History of the Religious Orders. [Oxford, Clarendon P, 1966], 3). 14 The only institutionally recognized exception to this would be the Camaldolese founded by St. Romuald in 1012, which has a unique relation between eremitical and cenobitical branches. It too, like many other attempts at eremitic monasticism in the West around this time, was absorbed by a larger Order (in this case the Benedictines). Cf. Richard Urban Butler and Leslie Toke, “Camaldolese,” The Catholic Encyclopedia (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1908), http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/03204d.htm. 15 The developing tradition of Christian monasticism did not break, however, when coming to the West. Some figures of influence broadly were Evagrius Ponticus of Egypt, having a drastic impact on John Cassian who brings monasticism to the West, and St. Basil the Great, whose guide Benedict quoted as Rule. Contrastingly, however, these two ascetics of the East also have influence on the Carthusians in non-cenobitic ways. For example, the Statutes are not the Rule but function more similarly to Basil’s guide. Moreover, even in recent times (1993 CE), Evagrius is a spiritual guide, despite scholastic efforts to invalidate his approach; e.g., he is quoted in the epigraph of a Carthusian text: “In the One / neither Master nor disciple / is greater / for both are god” (Carthusians, The Way
6 constitutes the individual as solitary and alone.16 The eremites would live almost completely isolated, locked away in caves, maintaining contact with one or two others for spiritual guidance. This form created a very different social fabric and system of hierarchy. The Carthusians, a coalesced hybrid of cenobiticism and eremitism, are strikingly unique for Guibert. Composed of Fathers and Brothers, one more eremitic and the other more cenobitic expression respectively, the Carthusians do not resemble anything Guibert would be familiar with. These two groups each serve the other: the Fathers providing prayer and leading a lifestyle not suited for the Brothers, while they, in return, support the Fathers with services and upkeep allowing them to subsist.17 This structure is both extremely practical and develops out of circumstance since Bruno already had men following him, representing this distinction when climbing the mountain.18 The coalescence extends further, as Carthusian practice and theology soon exhibit evidence of this form. Indeed, what Guibert witnessed was very different from what he knew. Moreover, Guibert’s position as Abbot contributed no doubt to his surprise with Carthusian organization. As David Knowles notes, first among “the key points for the Rule [was]: the monarchical abbot, elected for life by his monks, and himself appointing his officials.”19 The Carthusians, on the other hand, do not have an Abbot but instead a Prior, a position deliberately different. The Prior is taken from the cloister monks, but does not bear any distinguishing marks or clothing; moreover, he is never discussed as a leader but rather a servant, taking upon more for the sake of others, who guides by presenting a lived example
of Silent Love). Yet, interpretations made by Cassian, Benedict, and others also bear import (e.g., Cassian’s understanding of the monastic goal [ibid., 7]). 16 The term also contains reference to the desert of those ascetics: from the Greek eremia (ἐρηµία) meaning both “desert” and “solitude.” 17 This does seem very unbalanced, the Brothers serving the Fathers, but the Fathers do lead a very intense life of prayer and study not suited for everyone. Carthusian literature makes a general point to emphasize both the significance and equality of the Brothers. It should be noted, however, that this reading is highly informed by post-Vatican II texts (including this edition of the Statutes) and that these texts openly acknowledge that work has been done to balance the relationship and increase unity between the two branches of Carthusians (e.g., the Brothers now join the Fathers for liturgy) in accordance with the values and goals expressed in Vatican II (e.g. Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love, 14–15). 18 Ibid., 2. 19 David Knowles, From Pachomius to Ignatius, 6.
7 of Carthusian ideals.20 While the Prior may make decisions about his monks’ practice, granting them leniency or stricter practice, this execution of obedience emerges as secondary to desire.21 And indeed, this structural distinction surrounding obedience, seen between Abbot and Prior, is further reflected in the Carthusian Statutes, which contrasts the Rule of other monasteries. While the Rule of St. Benedict, for example, served as a template for the creation and continuation of a monastery, the Carthusian Statutes arise secondarily; they coalesce. As the Prologue to the Statutes detail, Bruno and his companions “and their successors, learning from experience, gradually evolved a special form of hermit life, which was handed on to succeeding generations, not by the written word, but by example.”22 It was only “at the repeated request of the other deserts [Carthusian monasteries] founded in imitation of that at Chartreuse” that, in 1127 CE,23 did “Guigues, the fifth Prior of the Grande Chartreuse, [commit] to writing the organization of their way of life.”24 Moreover, the Statutes receive continuous adaptations as the Carthusian life of today came to coalesce.25 Indeed, as one Carthusian notes, their tradition is a living organism, not a static observance, constantly adapting but never reformed.26 It is a life first transmitted by symbiosis, far greater than the
20 Prior of the Grande Chartreuse and General Chapter, Carthusian Statutes, sec. 3.23.5–6. See also, A Carthusian, First Initiation into Carthusian Life, 69. 21 See glossary for a nuanced definition of the Carthusian understanding of obedience and its relationship to desire. 22 Prior of the Grande Chartreuse and General Chapter, Carthusian Statutes, sec. 0.1.1. 23 1128 CE is also given. (Cf. Douglas Raymund Webster, “Guigues Du Chastel,” The Catholic Encyclopedia (New York: Robert Appleton Company, 1910), http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/07066a.htm.) 24 Prior of the Grande Chartreuse and General Chapter, Carthusian Statutes, sec. 0.1.1. 25 The current edition is from 1989. For a brief history of the developments of the Statutes, see Ibid., sec. 0.1.2–3. For a compendium of the previous iterations of the Carthusian Statutes, see James Hogg, Chartreux, and Guigo, The Evolution of the Carthusian Statutes, from the Consuetudines Guigonis to the Tertia Compilatio (Salzburg: Institut fur Anglistik und Amerikanistik, Universitat Salzburg, 1989). 26 Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love, 13–14. It should be noted that changes, however, were minimal: “The only mitigation of importance introduced since Guigo's day is the decrease of the fast on bread and water from thrice to once weekly. Additional duties have been laid upon the monks in the shape of extra prayers, the singing of a daily conventual Mass, the lengthening of the night Office and of the Office for the Dead, and the withdrawal of the permission to take a midday siesta, while, instead of having, as formerly, seven or eight hours uninterrupted sleep, their rest is now broken by the long night vigils” (Douglas Raymund Webster, “The Carthusian Order,” The Catholic Encyclopedia [New
8 bounds of the Statutes,27 constantly shifting and coalescing as the situation demanded. This “creative fidelity” avoided a discontinuous break in tradition that so many other religious orders suffered from.28 This flexible adaptability, in addition to their unique organizational structure, blending eremitic and cenobitic values and forms, must have emphasized how removed they were, not just geographically, from the worlds Guibert knew. Carthusian coalescence has led to a form-of-life drastically different from both the world around them and their Catholic monastic counterparts. In review, accentuating coalescence indicates the centrality of Carthusian desire as a formative force. A goal of uniting with God in Love defines this community: a singular desire bears a form-of-life that coalesces accordingly. Their renunciation of the world, the remoteness of the monastery, and entering the desert of silence and solitude all emerge as essential according to their desire to be as near to God as possible. Their style of life, a unique blend of eremitic and cenobitic monastic forms, and the resultant institutional structure (i.e. two-fold, composed of Brothers and Fathers; the Prior) always adapting and evolving, as demonstrated by the Statutes, develops as the desire demands. That is to say, the Carthusian form-of-life, a complex interplay between monastic virtues, practices, Catholic tradition and ruptures from it, coalesces towards God.
Charisma and Allure
The Carthusian life coalesces such that it produces a charisma and an allure, beginning with Bruno, that continues to this day. Charisma, an enchantment of attraction, definitely captures part of the Carthusian appeal but it is not the only formative force. Moreover, charisma presents a limited notion for this case since it does not align with Carthusian reflections on the matter. Discussing charisma, Max Weber, considered to be a
York: Robert Appleton Company, 1908], http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/03388a.htm). This also holds for the individual appropriation of tradition (Carthusians, The Way of Silent Love, 1). 27 “It is a life that is transmitted, and the breast that nourishes the younger members of the community on its substance is the concrete milieu of this living community. There is much communicated by means other than words. The reality is much greater than what is written down and what we are able to learn by reading the texts. We must therefore guard against too bookish an approach to Carthusian life. It is a life to be lived” (Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love, 13). 28 Ibid., 15–16.
9 founding father of sociology, famously asserts that charismatic authority is one of three ideal types of political leadership.29 He claims that religious movements must routinize the initial catalyst’s charisma to survive.30 Indeed, Bruno is remembered in charismatic light;31 for example, one Carthusian remembers him as “a bulwark for tradition rather than a speculative mind. The voice of stones. Everything about Bruno breathes balance and moderation.” 32 Here, Bruno is steeped in the values Carthusians embody: tradition, balance, moderation. He is even likened to a stone: quiet, still, observant. The Carthusians seem to acknowledge a process at least similar to Weber’s since they state that:
Bruno remained father, though absent. Meanwhile, the group had to take responsibility for its own life. It is interesting to speculate whether Bruno’s departure might not have been a catalyst for maturation of the primitive group that enabled it to have a more egalitarian structure in its governance. Bruno’s presence could have maintained too great a dependence.33
A shift occurs in Carthusian structure with the departure of Bruno. The charismatic picture is not so simple though. This same individual goes on to note that Bruno’s remembrance is lacking a useful depth: “Going to the essential, it portrays rather the contemplative, the hermit, than Bruno as individual; it is no less true, though a little too ‘perfect’. He lacks shadows.”34 Indeed, shadow provides an essential element to Carthusian life as they journey towards an ideal.35 But this charismatic authority is not all: “Bruno had the qualities of a leader, but if people followed him it was because they were led by the heart.” 36 The power of allure, a contagion theory of desire,37 begins to surface in the latter part of this phrase, as one
29 Cf. “The Pure Types of Legitimate Authority” in Max Weber, Max Weber on Charisma and Institution Building : Selected Papers (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1968), 46–47. 30 See “The Nature of Charismatic Authority and its Routinization” in Ibid., 48–65. 31 For a recent textual narrative, see the “Message of John Paul II to the Prior of the Carthusian Order for the Ninth Centenary of St Bruno’s Death,” October 6, 2001, http://www.chartreux.org/en/texts/message-2001.php. 32 Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love, 6. 33 Ibid., 7. 34 Ibid., 2. 35 For further discussion of the relationship between actual and ideal selves in Carthusian literature, see “Rhythms” in Chapter Two below. 36 Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love, 7. 37 “Life is communicated more by contact, by infection, than by teaching; before teaching, one must be” (Carthusians, The Way of Silent Love, 3).
10 is not simply charmed by the charismatic leader. Rather, as Lindsay Jones has shown in his work on religious architecture,38 there is an allure, a certain formulaic harmony and order, in the Carthusian form-of-life modeled by Bruno, enticing the individual.39 The Carthusians capture this allure, or at least give off their own rendition, quite well. This is one way of thinking about the development of the Statutes, described above; that they were a way of retaining the allure producing elements of Carthusian life. Even despite all historical disasters (avalanches, persecutions, disbanding, etc.),40 they manage to keep a continuous tradition. And perhaps this allure is just personal – I need only watch a few moments of Die Große Stille41 to be enchanted – but regardless, the Carthusian form-of-life, a life of silence and solitude, is at least mysterious.
Enigmatic Texts
This study draws its argument from a mosaic of most recent Carthusian sources. Due to the few windows through which one can peek into the Carthusian life, this thesis draws from many of them under the banner of exploration.42 Who are these mysterious individuals one can only glimpse? A question emblematic of the scholar falling prey to a religious allure. While many sources are geographically43 and temporally diverse, it is the
38 See fn. 5 above for an explication of Jones’ thought. 39 See the discussion of Gadamer in “Subject and Body” in Chapter One to explore this religious game and how one “plays.” Also, “Duration” in Chapter Two details the process of joining this group and the subversion this allure evokes. Worthy of further inquiry is the relationship between the aesthetic and allure: perhaps Carthusian life as beautiful can be understood in relation to the principles of allure (harmony, order, difficulty, obedience, desire). In this context then, the aesthetic can be understood as a principle movement of Carthusian life, an affective force that ignites their monastic game. 40 Cf. Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love, 18–20. 41 Philip Gröning et al., Die große Stille ([New York, N.Y.]: Zeitgeist Films, 2007). (Note: while the title was directly translated in French (Le grand silence), the English title contains an alteration denoting submersion as “into” instead of the article is used (Into great silence).) 42 The Carthusians do not permit non-vocational visitors except in very rare cases. In terms of production, they declare: “Our words are brief and our letters rare. We offer up instead our long Offices, and that life of continuous prayer which is our aim” (Carthusians, They Speak by Silences [Leominster, Herefordshire: Gracewing, 2006], 13). 43 Here, I assume varying linguistic script correlates to varying geographic locations. It is possible, however, that monks could, for a number of possibilities, write in a language foreign to the country of their monastery’s location. For evidence supporting diverse locations, see Ibid., front matter, ix–xi;
11 consistency of Carthusians that provides the thread of stability. Moreover, of particular focus in this investigation are a small series of texts published anonymously.44 While they were originally published at various times and places, they tend to cluster around Vatican II (1962 CE), a key religious reform in the Catholic Church. The second Vatican Council brought about many changes in the Church, striving to make it more accessible, open, and ultimately, more about love.45 This edict, along with the milieu from which it arises, could explain the sudden proliferation of this new genre of Carthusian text.46 These texts all focus on the role of love for Carthusian life while exploring other key dimensions such as silence, solitude, monastic virtues, practices, theology, Church tradition, etc. Some of the publications are written by the Novice-Master, a specific position in the charterhouse for those in the process
Carthusian, The Prayer of Love and Silence (Leominster, Herefordshire [England]: Gracewing Publishing, 2006), front matter, ix. 44 This series is published in the 2000s by Gracewing, a Catholic English publishing company, working in conjunction with the English Carthusians at St. Hugh’s Charterhouse at Parkminster. Most of the texts were originally published in the 1990s by Darton, Longman, and Todd, others republications and translations of older material, and others still new altogether. Some of the texts were translated from French, others written in English. All of which were translated by anonymous Carthusians (often assisting aid from Benedictine sisters), with the exception Interior Prayer which lists Sister Maureen Scrine as the translator. 45 As Thomas Joseph White details, Vatican II is an extension upon Vatican I’s push for the Catholic Christian to submit all dimensions of life to the mystery of God. White argues that this emerges in Vatican I as a response to “Luther's formula simul Justus et peccator: the claim that by faith one could be just while simultaneously alienated from God in the will by the interior wound of sin.” A theological problem for the Catholic Church that finds its answer in “the Church's insistence on the essential character of holiness at the core of Christian life. For there is no Christian life without charity.” Binding holiness to the Catholic Church, Vatican I established the essentiality of the sacraments in this process while also defining this holiness as a complete self-offering, a social-institutional and personal charity. This edict of holiness was founded upon a radical, obstinate love of God. While the Carthusians exemplify this formula mandated by Vatican I, the second Vatican council further emphasized the "universal call to holiness" as a social and institutional reform, resulting in a proliferation and extension of charity (“The Tridentine Genius of Vatican II,” First Things: A Monthly Journal of Religion & Public Life, no. 227 [November 2012]: 25–30, emphasis removed). For the Carthusians then this meant an added practice of sharing of their lives with those outside the walls of their Order. 46 It did indeed evoke some key changes: the Carthusians, in accordance with the council’s mandate, renewed their Statutes, removing everything that was “out of date” and emphasizing interior observances. But on the other hand, Vatican II also “confirmed [the Carthusians] most emphatically in [their] purely contemplative vocation” (Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love, 14–15). Nonetheless, the same monk, in discussing “Following Christ in Vatican II,” emphasizes the importance of the diversity of the Church and how sharing this strengthens the Church (ibid., 60–61).
12 of joining the Order, and as such, those texts are introductory, walking the reader through the Statutes and intricacies of the practice. Others fall into the category of spiritual reflections, never meant for publication, but were to help introduce outsiders to Carthusian life and thought.47 Even interviews are utilized to illustrate the diversity of Carthusian practice. Again, all these texts are published anonymously48 and hence, for the purposes of this study, can be taken as emblematic of the Order as a whole.49 Taken together, an image, or at least a sense, of Carthusian life begins to emerge. By bringing scholarly perspectives to the discussion, the picture of Carthusian life and its driving desire begin to sharpen.
47 Of note: only two of the texts have the Nihil obstat, a Catholic sanction that the text represents the views of the Church; all of them have the sanction of the Carthusian Order. 48 The anonymous publication proves mysterious and warrants further investigation, as there seem to be discontinuities in its occurrence and reasoning. As one Carthusian states (in 1962) when discussing the origins of material produced in one of the texts considered in this study: "As the author of both works is still living, they are, in accordance with the custom of the Order, published anonymously" (The Prayer of Love and Silence, ix). This indicates a longstanding tradition of anonymous publishing; however, Carthusian texts are sparsely published so perhaps he is referencing a more general principle of anonymity. In contrast to these claims, far earlier works are all attributed to an author, almost always the Prior of the monastery. Perhaps these texts were anonymous at first and then later attributed. (Indeed, this would explain some of the confusion surrounding a commentary on Pseudo- Dionysius and the false attribution to a Carthusian. Cf. Dennis D Martin, Hugh, and Guigues, Carthusian Spirituality: The Writings of Hugh of Balma and Guigo de Ponte (New York: Paulist Press, 1997).) But then again, it seems probable that these monks, addressed above, would have died since the 2006 republication of this text. As all the Gracewing texts cite, the 1988 Copyright, Designs and Patents Act allows for this anonymous attribution as “acts permitted on assumptions as to expiry of copyright or death of author” are cleared under #57 (“Jenkins | Trade Mark and Patent Attorneys | Copyright,” n.d., http://www.jenkins.eu/statutes/copyright.asp). However, even at the time of the first publication of They Speak by Silences in 1955 the Carthusian author had died (They Speak by Silences, x). Why was this Carthusian not named? Also of note, Early Carthusian Writings, a collection of older Carthusian texts, is published under an anonymous title despite the distinct authors being known (and listed within the text). Again, this issue is a curious problematic that warrants further investigation but will not be considered further here as it lies outside the scope of this project. For our purposes, these publications simply indicate an emphasis on anonymity; and moreover, it provides insight into Carthusian self-definition. 49 In support of this argument, these texts were also often translated and edited by other Carthusians, and moreover, approved by the Order for publication.
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Available Models: ascetical theory in religious studies
Over the past few decades, asceticism has become a source of interest for many scholars, the discourse taking drastic new turns. Within the context of Christianity, it has become a nearly unavoidable topic. Since (at least) the third century, the Greek notion of askesis, the training of the self, spread throughout Christian theology and anthropology.50 But up until fairly recently, this conception of asceticism didn’t exist. Rather, what scholars studied was the narrow, restricted definition of asceticism: namely, the individuals and communities who renounced the world, often removing themselves to remote locations, and devoted their entire lives to a regime of strict practice. Sparked51 by Michel Foucault’s Technologies of the Self,52 however, the discourse drastically shifted. This section will introduce some of these more prominent theories and serve as a starting point for our critical investigation.53 Following Foucault will be Geoffrey Harpham, Richard Valantasis, and Gavin Flood, the latter serving as the most relevant for the present investigation. While Foucault’s Technologies of the Self ultimately tries to mandate a postmodern return to the Greeks, generating an ethics of aesthetics along the way, for our purposes
50 Broadly speaking, the Christian subject became a self in training, renouncing the self (e.g the body’s desires of food, sex, relaxation, even life itself (as evidenced by mass martyrdom)). Without a doubt the emerging theology and anthropology of Christianity can be traced to the importation of Greek thought beyond askesis itself. For example, Origen who provides conceptual backdrop for Evagrius, a key desert father, was deemed heretical for being too Neo-Platonist. As Lawrence M. Wills shows, there are also other factors beyond “a Hellenic-Platonic intervention in a Jewish sect;” rather, there is a broader milieu contributing (“Ascetic Theology Before Asceticism? Jewish Narratives and the Decentering of the Self,” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 74, no. 4 [2006]: 905, doi:10.1093/jaarel/lfl001). These historical elements are important to bear in mind when approaching the Carthusians as they are inherited in the monastic tradition. 51 It should be noted that, if Foucault sparks the shift in ascetical theory, Max Weber provided the matches. That is to say, Weber’s treatment of asceticism in relation to sociology and economics lies in the background of the following theoretical developments. (Cf. Max Weber, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, 2nd Roxbury ed.. [Los Angeles: Roxbury Pub, 1998], 71; Max Weber, The Sociology of Religion [Boston: Beacon Press, 1993].) 52 Michel Foucault et al., Technologies of the Self: A Seminar with Michel Foucault (Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1988). 53 For a good compendium and overview of the field, beyond of the few discussed here, see Vincent L Wimbush and Richard Valantasis, Asceticism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998). For insight into the development of the field, compare to the now dated James Hastings, ed., “Asceticism,” Encyclopedia of Religion in Ethics (Edinburgh, 1909).
14 something else is key. Much of Foucault’s work deals with domination and power,54 but Technologies of the Self takes a different approach to the individual, examining how one acts upon oneself. What Foucault labels as “technologies of the self, …permit individuals to effect by their own means or with the help of others a certain number of operations on their bodies and souls, thoughts, conduct, and way of being, so as to transform themselves in order to attain a certain state of happiness, purity, wisdom, perfection, or immortality.”55 These “technologies of the self” indicate an individual’s awareness that the self is socially and historically situated.56 In Christian monasticism the fact that these technologies are helped by others is key, as not only are ascetics in communion with each other, but the theology necessitates it.57 When examining Cassian, Foucault determines that “disclosure of the self is renunciation of the self”58 since, “by telling himself not only his thoughts but also the smallest movements of consciousness, his intentions, the monk stands in a hermeneutic relation not only to the master but to himself.”59 Indeed, “self-revelation is at the same time self-destruction.”60 For Foucault, Christian renunciation, an ascetic practice of obedience, leads to self-awareness of how the subject is formed socially and historically. This observation of the relationship between asceticism and subjectivity provides the foundation for the theoretical advances made in the field, especially the work of Harpham and Valantasis.
54 More precisely, Foucault’s work deals with how the individual is acted upon by these forces from the outside. As Judith Butler succinctly states while examining Foucault’s conception of the body (of particular interest in our next chapter): “The body is a site where regimes of discourse and power inscribe themselves, a nodal point or nexus for relations of juridical and productive power” (Judith Butler, “Foucault and the Paradox of Bodily Inscriptions,” The Journal of Philosophy 86, no. 11 [1989]: 601). 55 Foucault et al., Technologies of the Self, 18. 56 This implies that the self has established himself or herself as a region sui generis, distinguishing between the self and surroundings. This then provides the site for ascetical technologies. Here, though, we encounter a discontinuity with Christian monastics if we take, for instance, the children commonly left at monasteries, who are then subsequently raised by the monks. These children never make the recognition in this form but surely must be counted among our subjects of study as it is a longstanding phenomenon in Catholic monasticism (e.g. St. Benedict’s Rule for Monasteries, 83–84 addresses the matter). 57 i.e., the individual is in sin and only through Christ, and the Church, can one rise. 58 Foucault et al., Technologies of the Self, 48. 59 Ibid., 47. Note, it is the verbalization practice, under the mandate of obedience, that Foucault determines as essential (ibid.). 60 Ibid., 43.
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After Foucault, Harpham and, following him, Valantasis mark another development in the study of asceticism since they expand the ascetic imperative far beyond the context of recluse monks, placing it center stage within society broadly. For Harpham, “where there is culture there is asceticism: cultures structure asceticism, each in its own way, but do not impose it.”61 This means that asceticism does not lie in the margins of society, religion, and culture, but rather has a hand in generating them. Harpham believes that Christianity contributed “something new to asceticism by formalizing, systematizing, and theologizing it – by naming it as a concept.”62 He then makes this concept “a primary, transcultural, structuring force”63 in the world, securing his position in the impositional, structural camp of religious scholars.64 Valantasis picks up the agenda, continuing with assertions “that asceticism constitutes a human impulse,”65 a drive towards improvement, and broader yet, that “anything can be ascetical.”66 For both these thinkers resistance lies at the heart of asceticism, but fortunately Valantasis adds some other dimensions as well, avoiding a strictly negative definition. For him, “asceticism, it seems, never stands still, nor does it ever stay in the same place, nor does it use only proven performances to achieve its goals.”67 In this way it is always generating new subjectivities for both the ascetical individual and community. Even if we set aside the broader cultural assertions of these theories, as they bear minimal import for our current topic, Harpham and Valantasis are lacking.68 Stressing resistance, the extraordinary, and discontinuity, they do not adequately account for the rich dynamism within asceticism, the interplay between continuity and discontinuity. As we have seen, the
61 Geoffrey Galt Harpham, The Ascetic Imperative in Culture and Criticism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987), xi. 62 Ibid., xii–xiii. 63 Ibid., xiii. 64 Classic examples include, but are not limited to, William James (whom Harpham acknowledges, ibid.), Max Weber, and Emile Durkheim. 65 Richard Valantasis, The Making of the Self: Ancient and Modern Asceticism (Eugene, Or.: Cascade Books, 2008), ix. 66 Ibid., x. 67 Ibid., 116. Note that for Valantasis this is a revised definition of his early paper, reproduced in this same volume (ibid., 38), since it acknowledges the emergence of new performances. This shift it significant for Valantasis as “the heart of [his] theory of asceticism resides in the creation of an alternative subjectivity through intentional performances” (ibid., 103). 68 It should also be noted that these theories have been deemed by many to be Christian theories of asceticism and do not hold, despite their authors’ claims, when applied to Eastern forms of asceticism.
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Carthusians resemble other Christian monastics but are also strikingly different in key ways. These theories do not offer access to the primary question at hand; they do not enable discussion of the oddity that Carthusians build a life around a particular articulation of desire within a tradition that so often dismisses it. Flood’s The Ascetic Self shifts the focus within this examination of subjectivity, warranting a more thorough explication of his thought as it provides a useful touching stone. Rather than focusing on an objective system of asceticism, Flood wants to get at the subjective meaning of it.69 In Flood’s view, unique individual narrative informs asceticism, as the individual appropriates past truths into a tradition-specific subjectivity70 that finds performance in ritual,71 a process Flood characterizes as “the subjective appropriation of tradition.”72 In The Ascetic Self, Flood draws on the scriptural religions of Buddhism, Christianity, and Hinduism to chart the transformation of the self into an ascetic self. For Flood, asceticism flourishes in cosmological religious traditions in which a self, “a historical, language-bearing, gendered person, with their own name and story,”73 performs the “memory of the tradition” through the “ambiguity of the self.” This ambiguity arises due to the fact that, through acts of will (an assertion of the self), an ascetic asserts, simultaneously, the eradication of that will and its replacement with divine will.74 The ascetic enacts this performance through praxis of the body and discourse in language75 as he submits himself to ritual life,76 a remembrance of tradition. In performing this collective memory, Flood asserts that ascetic traditions not only interiorize the cosmology of their religion, but also express it,77 enabling the possibility of transformation.78 While transformation strips individuality from the self through these two performances,79 this “entextualization of the body”80 frees
69 Gavin D Flood, The Ascetic Self: Subjectivity, Memory, and Tradition (Cambridge; New York: Cambridge University Press, 2004), ix. 70 Ibid., 3. 71 Ibid., 225. 72 Ibid., 212. 73 Ibid., 2. 74 Ibid., 13. 75 Ibid. 76 Ibid., 214. 77 Ibid., 9. 78 Ibid., 13. 79 Ibid., 14. 80 Ibid., 212.
17 one from restriction for it deepens subjectivity and interiority.81 In other words, the ascetic wills to become the text (ambiguity of the self) as he inscribes tradition on the body through action (performance of collective memory through language and praxis).82 For Flood, subjectivity, or the “self-consciousness on the basis of which all knowledge is possible,”83 “entails the culturally or textually constructed body because forms of subjectivity are particular to historical and social circumstance.”84 In this sense, it is the self as essence and as self-experience through time85 that cultivates interiority, allowing space for both the reception and transmission of tradition,86 an interiority that decreases the individuality of the self. Only through this performance of the ambiguity of the self and the memory of tradition does the self transform into the ascetic self, a hermeneutical process of conversion. This model opens up the exchange between the actual and ideal selves for ascetics, and the hermeneutical process involved in existing between them. Flood, however, over stresses the reading of texts and does not adequately consider the primacy of practice.87 Moreover, his approach presents a model of the individual as, above all, a thinking agent who dominates the body through practice, ritual, and text. This ‘ambiguity of the self’ does not account for Carthusian desire as such, but would rather locate it within the will, conceived of as a human universal. As shall be demonstrated in Chapter One, a radically different model of the Carthusian and a specifically Carthusian desire can better explain this process and pave the way for a discovery of their conception of time.
81 Ibid., 14. 82 Ibid., 212. 83 Ibid., 17. 84 Ibid., 225. 85 Ibid., 16. 86 Ibid., 226. 87 The Carthusians “guard against too bookish an approach to Carthusian life. It is a life to be lived” (Carthusian, The Call of Silent Love, 13).
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The Path Ahead: agenda and goals
Tausend Pfade giebt es, die nie noch gegangen sind; tausend Gesundheiten und verborgene Eilande des Lebens. Unerschöpft und unentdeckt ist immer noch Mensch und Menschen-Erde. – Nietzsche88
The surest path through the wilderness of faith is that which is humble, hidden, stripped. – A Carthusian89
This study seeks to uncover Carthusian life, in particular their notion of desire. Pursuing this topic, this thesis constructs a mosaic image of these hidden men, sourcing from a wide array of Carthusian content (from maps, documentaries, and paintings to liturgical documents, esoteric writings, and letters) with a particular focus on these recent anonymous texts. By also utilizing a selection of philosophical thinkers, this work will tease out notions buried in Carthusian literature. Although this Order has not produced much to share due to their singular focus, that fact itself is telling. Desire saturates the simple life of the Carthusians, the task at hand is to observe its percolations and extricate them. The following two chapters detail Carthusian life in relationship to desire. How are the body, time defined by this principle? In answering this question the Carthusian form-of-life comes into focus while still leaving much obscure.
88 Also Sprach Zarathustra, I, “Von der schenkenden Tugend,” 2. 89 Carthusians, The Way of Silent Love, 93.