Notes from Notre Dame (Part Three)

Notes from Notre Dame (Part Three) June 26, 2017

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I woke up on Saturday morning and stuffed an overpriced Kind bar in my mouth. Then I high-tailed it out the door to attend the final day of the Trying To Say God conference. It took only two tries to find DeBartolo Hall, at which point I realized that I’d forgotten my name tag. I didn’t trust myself to run back and get it. Once DeBartolo Hall allows itself to be found, it may not be so generous a second time.

I slid into a classroom, feeling naked and anonymous without my name tag. Instantly, two or three people asked, “Are you Mary Pezzulo?” and told me how much they admired my blog. I want to write something modest about how embarrassing these encounters were, but honestly writers live for this kind of thing.

The first panel I attended was “Devotional Literature with Teeth: Writing Complexity and Darkness in Modern Spiritual Writing” with the brilliant Heather King, Doctor Tim O’Malley, Ignatius’s Vinita Hampton Wright and Father Malcolm Guite, who joined us from England via Skype. This was all about writing Catholic devotionals that were neither light nor happy but appealed to reasonably intelligent, suffering people, so I felt perfectly at home.

After that, I went off in search of water to swallow my chronic fatigue tonics. People kept asking if I was Mary Pezzulo. I heard a woman say “That’s Mary Pezzulo. She’s the one who wrote that  exposé on Frank Pavone!”

It’s fascinating the things one can become famous for. All I did was write about the scandal Pavone was committing publicly anyway, compiling evidence that was publicly known and that other people sent me, and then refuse to shut up about it when his personality cult harassed me. But I’ll take it. I’m also never wearing a name tag again unless I want to be incognito. People only recognize me when I’m not wearing one.

The next  session was “Writing Anew the Second Book of God: Nature as Sacramental, with a Theological Rhapsody,” by the writer Ken Garcia and the poet Jerry Harp. Garcia read aloud from his upcoming memoir Pilgrim River, which I’ll try to review for the blog when it comes out.

The third session was my favorite. And I don’t mean my favorite session of this conference, I mean my favorite thing in the whole world: “Not Always Sweet: Beyond Liturgical Cupcakes In Catholic Women’s Writing.” This was a panel discussion with Colleen Mitchell,  Kaya Oakes, Leticia Adams,  Sonja Corbit, Rebecca Bratten Weiss and Sarah Margaret Babbs. I can only hope to someday be half as cool as these women. Rebecca even pointed to me, mentioned the Frank Pavone exposé and everyone in the room applauded. It was awesome. The whole thing is available to listen to online, if anyone would like.

Next it was lunch hour. Time to network with important people and form professional friendships. But I couldn’t, because Notre Dame has a free art gallery, the Snite Museum. I found it after only two tries. There was a fascinating and terrifying exhibit on the peoples of Mesoamerica, there was a roomful of Native American artifacts, there was a mobile-looking thing that turned when the docent put the ceiling fan on. There were portraits and Original Plasters. There was an ancient Roman mask and an Egyptian wall painting. There was a Miro painting with weird letters on it. I was in Heaven.

As I wandered out of the Snite Museum, I found that it was twelve minutes until the next conference session, I hadn’t had anything to eat all day but a Kind bar, and I had no idea where I was. I crammed a protein bar in my mouth as I sprinted around at random, but by now I had inspired the pity of DeBartolo Hall. It allowed itself to be found just in time for the next session.

This session was “Rendering the Body in Words” by the authors Brian Volck, Paula Huston, Martha Serpas and Ragan Sutterfield, a panel on writing about the human body from a Catholic perspective. Really excellent insights all around.

After that I was wiped out. I hadn’t had lunch or dinner, and I’d been on my feet all day. I went back to my dorm intending to take a nap, but then I realized I was only ten minutes’ walk from a Chipotle. Within an hour, I wasn’t hungry anymore, but I ended up missing that nap.

I got out of bed in time to catch the final sessions: “Catholicism and the Rules of Fantasy ” by the celebrated Tim Powers, followed immediately by a discussion between Tim Powers and Brother Guy Consolmagno of the Vatican Observatory. I enjoyed every minute.

There was supposed to be an after-party next, but somehow I just had to go for a walk on campus and say goodbye to those beautiful trees. I think I alarmed someone when I silently emerged from among the branches of a weeping willow just as they walked by in the dark.

The conference was over.

It was time to go back to Stebenville.

I don’t think I’ve stopped crying yet.

(Image via Pixabay) 

 

 


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