Of Sacred Monsters

The War is not over (and the one that is, or the part of it, has been largely lost). But it is of course wrong to fall into such a mood, for Wars are always lost, and War always goes on; and it is no good growing faint. -- JRR Tolkien

Reading Tracey Rowland's summary of what is now sometimes called "Strict Observance Thomism" revived my interest in Fr Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, a Dominican scholar who died in 1964.   He has been called the "monstre sacre" of Thomism, and someone called Richard Peddicord has written a book with that title:

The Sacred Monster of Thomism

Here's a short overview with list of table of contents.

There are several reviews around the internet.   Of recent years there has been a revival of scholarly interest in Garrigou Lagrange, apparently.   

The appellation of sacred monster was applied to Garrigou-Lagrange by Francois Mauriac, according to the book.  In French the term means 

a venerable or popular public figure who is considered above criticism or attack despite eccentricity, controversy, etc.

or similarly: 

"Someone whose immense talent might seem almost unnatural, and whom few people would dare criticize."

In our day, of course, a lot of Sancho Panzas make an industry out of attacking and cancelling supposedly unassailable types.   

 Most Catholics who have heard of Garrigou-Lagrange at all put him in the category of dry, dessicated neo-Scholasticist, but the book makes it clear that this is not a fair portrait of the man.    Among other things, he was Karol Wojtyla's doctoral adviser, and also taught Marie-Dominique Chenu as well as associated with Jacques Maritain, though both the latter were at odds with him later -- Chenu because of his interest in how history interacts with doctrine, and Maritain because their politics diverged in the very polarized climate of France at the time between the two world wars.  

Anyway, the book was well worth reading because it brings the pre-Vatican-II conflicts to life and sketches out the key theological and spiritual concerns that motivated this prolific Dominican.   

I had already read a couple of his books -- The Three Ages of the Interior Life, and one other I can't remember the name of.   One I would like to read is his book on Common Sense, but the English translation is expensive.  I'm going to try out my college French on the version available online.  

I like thinking of all the holy monstrosities I will meet in heaven someday, should I be so blessed.     I can't help picturing them as affable versions of the Notre Dame grotesques, or like those figures on the margins of medieval manuscripts.