Showing posts with label Kathryn Hulme. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kathryn Hulme. Show all posts

Friday, December 30, 2016

Adventure classics – A heart disciplined to disobey

The Nun’s Story

by Kathryn Hulme

***
Can a discipline be strong enough to transcend the very rules that formed it? wonders the protagonist of Kathryn Hulme’s 1956 novel, The Nun’s Story. Because as protagonist Sister Luke struggles to remain faithful to the rule – make that Rule with a capital R – of her order, she begins to find that its discipline, bit by bit has strengthened her finally to disobey it.

Hulme & Habets
Last Friday’s Adventure classics post left Sister Luke as a nurse turned novice in a Belgian convent. The time in the story is 1927, and Sister Luke is meditating on the discipline of the order she has chosen, a discipline less of the body than of the mind and spirit. With her sister novices, she sits in the convent’s garden stringing beans for the communal meal.

“No one uttered a regret for not being allowed to stroll that day through the gardens. No one looked up from her aproned lap to the flowering chestnuts and the slow drift of summer clouds above them. . . ” and she wonders if being a nun really requires this much attention to duty. It’s a wonder that she will look back on when Nazi paratroopers descend onto the quiet Belgian countryside a little more than a decade later.

And afterward, when “some of these sisters who sat beside her would disappear in the holocaust, not to be heard from for years. . .(to) reappear with worn pictures of saints sewn into the hems of disguising lay clothes and rosaries hidden in their shoes, and the world, stirred by their stores of endurance, would stare at news photos of those blessed objects and wonder how those alone had got them through. Because that would be all that they, the phoenix sisters, would be able to tell about their calvaries. . . They would have forgotten how the steel had got under their scapulars. . . ”

And Sister Luke’s scapular, the sleeveless, belted outer garment whose folds form a handy pocket for hidden things, has acquired nearly two decades of steeliness before the hospital run by her nursing order is completely overrun by the German invaders.

Like her real-life alter ego, Marie Louise Habets (religious name, Sister Xaverine), Sister Luke is the daughter of a famous Belgian doctor who dreams of performing heroic deeds of healing in the Congo missions of her order. Besides entering the convent, she has earned a degree as a nurse, with special training in psychiatry. But instead of being sent directly to Africa, she is distressed to be assigned first to a psychiatric hospital in her home country of Belgium.

Just as she has become inured to the silence and order of a convent, she is confronted by the clamor and chaotic behavior of maniacs. Just as she has learned the discipline of keeping her eyes cast down, she must unlearn it, and learn instead to attend to every sound and movement around her. When at last Sister Luke reaches the Congo, her new superior asks her to take on additional hospital and surgical work in place of a nun who has fallen ill. And she again learns to disobey – with permission – the call of the convent’s liturgical bells lest she leave patient and surgeon in the middle of an operation.

(In the movie version of Hulme’s novel based on Habets’ experience, Sister Luke falls in love with the irascible surgeon. In the novel, Sister Luke assures her superior that there is no romantic involvement, although Hulme makes it appear that the surgeon at least would be willing to move his relationship with the nurse-nun to a more personal level. But perhaps Hulme found it hard to believe that people wouldn’t want to fall in love with Sister Luke, as she was with Marie Louise, who would go on to become, in the discreet language of Hulme’s obituary, her companion and lifelong business partner.)

image: wikipedia
All of these sometimes-contradictory forms of discipline will go into the making of the Sister Luke who, in May 1940, will steel herself for work with the Belgian underground.

“On the evening of the day Brussels fell, a middle-aged man dressing like a farmer . . . came in with a cartload of refugees. . .” And he has a request for Sister Luke that will set her on a road to greater disobedience – or is it truer obedience? – than she has ever known.

In a twist stranger than fiction, the close subsequent relationship between Hulme and Habets has now caused most of Hulme’s books to be out of print. However, used versions of The Nun’s Story are widely available, as is a paperback version scanned from the original. Or renew a love affair with the movie version, available online, starring Habets’ fellow Belgian war refugee Audrey Hepburn.

(This is the final post of Adventure classics, as this blog turns from reviewing classics to contemporary books in 2017. But maybe I’ll be able to sneak in an older friend from time to time. . . )

Friday, December 23, 2016

Adventure classics – A heart hidden beneath a veil

The Nun’s Story

by Kathryn Hulme

***
It wasn’t until I read Kathryn Hulme’s 1956 fictionalized version of the life of her friend Marie Louise Habets, The Nun’s Story, immediately after Somerset Maugham’s The Moon and Sixpence, that I was struck by the similarities between the life in a religious order and life as a dedicated artist. 

image: wikipedia
As depicted by Hulme, Habets (known as Sister Xaverine during her time as a nun) learns to lead a life of simplicity, indifference to physical comfort, and renunciation of natural family ties to follow her vocation. Maugham’s narrator relates such similar details in his 1919 novel based on the life of painter Paul Gauguin, you’d almost think he was following the rules of the Sisters of Charity of Jesus and Mary, the order Habets joined in the decade following publication of Maugham’s novel.

The rules, that is, with more attention to attire, and considerably more to chastity.

“The bravest of the emotionally vulnerable were the sisters who stood up together . . . (and confess) having gone out of their way to be near to one another, or perhaps for having talked together in recreation in a way that excluded others. Their tormented but clearly spoken disclosures of a nascent affinity gave it the coup de grace which they themselves might not have been able to do, for the entire community would henceforth see to it that these two would be kept far apart. . . ”

Eerily, the emotional detachment demanded by the religious rule echoes that of Maugham’s protagonist from his lovers, a detachment, however, which didn’t prevent physical consummation in his case.

(After leaving her order, Habets would become the recognized partner of Hulme, although without publicly admitting to their possible sexual relationship. But that’s leaping very far ahead in her story, which begins in the late 1920’s, when she, and her fictionalized alter-ego Sister Luke, first enter religious life.)

image: wikipedia
“It was odd to be thinking about Lourdes,” Sister Luke reminisces as she first dons the garments of her new life. She had been a nursing student – the only lay student chosen from her training school to escort a group of patients from Belgium to the shrine where an apparition of the Virgin Mary had appeared in the mid-19th century near the Pyrenees Mountains between France and Spain. The site soon acquired a reputation for miraculous healings.

There were some physical cures, a skeptical Gabrielle Van Der Mal (the nascent Sister Luke) admitted, but what surprises her most is the happiness of the patients after their return.

“That is the real cure,” says her nun-supervisor, Sister William.

“And then Sister William had given her sleeve a little tug in the discreet manner of the vowed, who. . . must never lay hands one upon the others," Sister Luke remembers. "The pull at her sleeve had been more unusual than Sister William’s teasing words, for it was the attention-drawing language of nun to nun, than of nun to lay person. As if I were one of them. . . And now she was one of them.”

But she still has far to go, often finding herself straining against the order’s toughening rules.

“It is almost an exaggerated thing, she thought, this discipline. It is surely more than any of us could ever need in the safe communities where we shall be. . . She could not know then, on that summer day in 1927, that in little more than a decade their ordered world would rock and twist like the epicenter of an earthquake and that the walls she imaged would always protect them would crack in many places and fall in heaps of rubble to the ground.”

Will her own discipline be strong enough to endure those trials to come?

(Next Friday, Adventure classics continues a December of adventures of the spirit with Kathryn Hulme’s The Nun’s Story.)