Symbolism and the (lapsed) Catholic

My husband and I went to see "The American" with George Clooney last night.

Although the movie is touted as a spy thriller, there is actually very little action in terms of shoot-em-ups or car chases.  The previews (which hint at the two or three action scenes included in the movie in order to sell the movie to the public) don't do the real movie much justice.  The actual movie is slow moving but deep, thoughtful and serious with themes of redemption and justice expressed through religion and symbolism.  And I think that is the crux of the beauty of the movie: it is dramatically symbolic in its presentation.

Ever since I was a young girl, being raised Catholic in an Italian family, I have lived immersed in, and loved, drama and religious symbolism.  From statues of pious saints with their eyes raised to heaven, to golden chalices to incense, Catholics recognize and understand rich religious symbolism.  What better way to incite emotion than through a flawless marble statue of mother Mary cradling the lifeless body of her son?  What better way to show innocence and purity than through the symbol of the lamb, with its snow white curls and tiny stature? From glowing golden cups which hold the body of Jesus, to the glittery fabrics of the vestments of our priests, we revel in the emotion created by the accoutrements of our religion.

Like Catholicism itself, "The American" is rife with dramatic symbolism.  [SPOILER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!]  From the first scene, where the purity of the virgin snow is contrasted with the unexpected and violent death of an innocent woman, the movie glides along a roller coaster of symbolic scenery: a priest leading lambs to the slaughter, the contrast of carnal sin and fatherly love, the naivete and dark beauty of the prostitute, the gentle flutterings of a white butterfly as a soul leaves the body...the imagery is both beautiful and haunting.  The main character is a sinner, who lives and then dies by the sword, and who finds love, and perhaps redemption, too late to benefit from either in this mortal life.  Yet, if you don't understand the symbolism, you don't quite get the movie.  It seems like a boring, no-action spy thriller, with an ending that doesn't satisfy.

I count myself among the lapsed Catholics of the world, having left my religion (though not necessarily my faith) because of the difficulty in reconciling Catholicism's teachings with the realities of modern society.  But from my childhood the symbolism of this faith has remained with me.  I use it in my own writing.  My characters regularly fall from grace, and then must seek redemption before they can grow. 

This, then, is the ultimate irony.  I may have left my church and its rampant symbolism, but the symbols of that faith have never truly left me.

Susan
www.susancalistri.com

Swallowing the Fly

A Thursday evening, and I sit at my computer, some fave music playing in the background and my keyboard clicking.  I would say that things are calm, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

At the moment I am ignoring the "fly" in the room: the knowledge that I need to get Matthew to sleep.  I have a good reason for ignoring this, since getting the house calm enough for anyone to sleep is not as easy as it sounds.

First, before I can get Matthew to sleep, I have to get Rosie (the cat) off the roof, where she climbs to meow on the window sills of the second floor to tell me that she needs food.  I am sure that she has some reason for doing this that only she understands, since the food is actually downstairs, on the first floor, and there are people awake on the first floor who could feed her.  And yet there she is, meowing at me on the second floor to tend to her hunger.

Alright, I can feed her.  But although it seems like a simple thing to feed her, before I can feed her to get her off the roof I must bring the two dogs inside, since Rosie won't come down from the roof if the dogs are outside. 

When I bring the dogs inside, I then have to confine them in one room, or they go into Matthew's room while I am outside feeding the cat, and eat his stuffed animals and wrestle on his rug, and then he can't sleep and has to chase them around the house trying to retrieve his lion or dragon or cardinal or bear.  But when I confine the dogs, they bark and whine to get out, keeping Matthew up and in the process keeping the cat on the roof. 

It's a little like the old lady who swallowed the horse to get the cow to get the dog to get the cat to get the rat...all because of one, small fly.

Please don't make me swallow the fly.

Susan

www.susancalistri.com