I had felt I had lost my faith over the summer. Post-PhD lapse - or simply the intolerance of some aspects of the current Vatican policies - had exhausted my patience. Then I went to Mass today in St John's Wood, and was surprised to discover the Year of Faith begins this coming Thursday, October 11. A year to reflect on faith and faithlessness, on the vacillations of the spirit. Now, I can't promise miracles, but I feel somewhat renewed today by this happy convergence of my own doubts and needs, and the official programme of the coming year. Meanwhile, and just as importantly, Hans Kung, a dissenting priest, is raising vital concerns about the future directions of the Church. There looks like a very enriching debate about renewal to be had in 2013.
THAT HANDSOME MAN A PERSONAL BRIEF REVIEW BY TODD SWIFT I could lie and claim Larkin, Yeats , or Dylan Thomas most excited me as a young poet, or even Pound or FT Prince - but the truth be told, it was Thom Gunn I first and most loved when I was young. Precisely, I fell in love with his first two collections, written under a formalist, Elizabethan ( Fulke Greville mainly), Yvor Winters triad of influences - uniquely fused with an interest in homerotica, pop culture ( Brando, Elvis , motorcycles). His best poem 'On The Move' is oddly presented here without the quote that began it usually - Man, you gotta go - which I loved. Gunn was - and remains - so thrilling, to me at least, because so odd. His elegance, poise, and intelligence is all about display, about surface - but the surface of a panther, who ripples with strength beneath the skin. With Gunn, you dressed to have sex. Or so I thought. Because I was queer (I maintain the right to lay claim to that
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