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Description
In the last twenty years, Orthodox Catholics have come to expect their art to be necessarily about beauty. They expect it always and everywhere to lift one up, to be tinged with, to linger in the dimly-lit rooms of old-moneyed Europe, to be passed around among the best families, among like-minded gnostics, generous Jansenists. But these expectations have nothing to do with reality. In fact, most of the real contributions during the postmodern period have come from blue-collar poets--influenced by the Beats. A line can be drawn from Kerouac to Karr, with Merton, Everson, Levertov, Dylan, Berrigan, Cohen, Springsteen, Mariani, Waits, Wright, and Daniels tracing the way. This book celebrates that line, one that Holy Father Francis would surely endorse.
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In the last twenty years, Orthodox Catholics have come to expect their art to be necessarily about beauty. They expect it always and everywhere to lift one up, to be tinged with, to linger in the dimly-lit rooms of old-moneyed Europe, to be passed around among the best families, among like-minded gnostics, generous Jansenists. But these expectations have nothing to do with reality. In fact, most of the real contributions during the postmodern period have come from blue-collar poets--influenced by the Beats. A line can be drawn from Kerouac to Karr, with Merton, Everson, Levertov, Dylan, Berrigan, Cohen, Springsteen, Mariani, Waits, Wright, and Daniels tracing the way. This book celebrates that line, one that Holy Father Francis would surely endorse.
Reviews