In his book, The Pontiff in Winter : Triumph and Conflict in the Reign of
John Paul II (2004), John Cornwell writes that the papal role takes over the
personality of the individual who is elected to the “strangest, most impossible
and isolating and job on earth.” [p.8] He quotes Pope Paul VI: “I was solitary
before, but now my solitariness becomes complete. Hence the dizziness,
the vertigo.”
Karol Wojtila, who became John Paul II, was also a poet of note,
especially in the years before his papacy. See The Place Within (1982). In
The Pontiff in Winter, Cornwell tells of an incident that may help us understand
the papal solitude of John Paul. [p. 9] It revolves around a theologian who sat
next to the Pope at a Vatican dinner:
“Holy Father, I love poetry and I’ve read all of your verse. Have
you written much poetry since you became Pope? ” To which the
Pope said: “I’ve written no poetry since I became Pope.” So the
theologian said: “Well, why is that, Holy Father?” The Pope cut
him dead, turning to the person on the other side.
Twenty minutes later, John Paul turned to the theologian and said
curtly: “No context!” That was all. . . . .
But [John Paul] had imparted a tragic truth perhaps. The papal office
takes over the whole person. That is what the job demands. When he
said there was no “context” for poetry, he seemed to be acknowledging
that, in the depths of his soul, deep down where the poetry is written,
there lies a terrible, vertiginous solitude.
I’d like to think that Karol Wojtila made himself a promise after that awkward
dinner encounter — to reconnect to the part of him that was the poet. The
small volume of published in 2003, The Poetry of Pope John Paul II, may
have been the result of that pledge.
When I read The Pontiff in Winter last month, I was saddened at the thought
of a poet too consumed with the obligations of office to have the time and the
“context” to write poetry. John Paul II and I may have disagreed on many
issues, but I bet he would agree with me that the dignity he asserted for every
human being includes the right to maintain a connection between daily life and
the inner soul — so that each of us has the opportunity to nurture a relationship
with our personal Muse. No job, not even one as important as the papacy,
should take away the poetry of life.
April 4, 2005
the solitude of a papal poet
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A wonderful, poignant observation.
Comment by Charles D. Chalmers — April 4, 2005 @ 11:52 am
A wonderful, poignant observation.
Comment by Charles D. Chalmers — April 4, 2005 @ 11:52 am
Thank you, Charles. A wonderful, thoughtful comment!
Comment by David Giacalone — April 4, 2005 @ 3:55 pm
Thank you, Charles. A wonderful, thoughtful comment!
Comment by David Giacalone — April 4, 2005 @ 3:55 pm
A wonderful, poignant observation.
Comment by Charles D. Chalmers — April 4, 2005 @ 6:04 pm
A wonderful, poignant observation.
Comment by Charles D. Chalmers — April 4, 2005 @ 6:04 pm