(urth) A little bit of Peace

Gem Caccetta gemcaccetta at yahoo.com
Thu Aug 26 08:21:49 PDT 2021

Looking through my bookshelves today for something to read, I decided to pick up Peace. Probably been close to 10 years since my last read. On page 6 I was stopped in my tracks by this amazing 18 line sentence, a Proustian sentence indeed. Thought I would bring a little Wolfe into everyone’s day…
“Now, when I sit alone before my fire and look out at the wreck of the Elm revealed by the lightning flashes, confused and ruinous as a ship gone aground, it seems to me that the garden – I mean Little Joe’s garden, basking forever in the sunshine of its Tyrrhenian afternoon – is the core and root of the real world, to which all this America is only a miniature in a locket in a forgotten drawer; and this thought reminds me (and is reinforced by the memory) of Dante’s Paradiso, in which (because the wisdom of this world was the folly of the next) the earth stood physically central, surrounded by the limbus of the moon and all the other spheres, greater and greater, and at last by God, but in which the physical reality was, in the end, delusive, God standing central in spiritual truth, and our poor earth cast out – peripheral to the concerns of Heaven save when the memory of it waked, with something not unlike an impure nostalgia, the great saints and the Christ from the contemplation of triune God.”

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