Customer Reviews

Saint Therese of Lisieux (Penguin Lives)

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This is a beautifully writtten book and it certainly uses modern knowledge of psychology and historical and literary research to shed light on Therese and her times. The author's focus on Therese's ascetical practices (masochistic to the author) presents the saint as a very unattractive woman. Reading this book one is left in awe of Therese's self-discipline and love of suffering but one cannot fint her attractive or open one's heart to her. Nowhere in the book does one find the compassion of this saint for all "sinners"; nowhere does one find her words of solace to those who suffer from guilt and problems with faith;nowhere does one find her as a "little sister" who acts as an intercessor to God for those who tremble to approach Him.

A recent video highlights the tour of Therese's relics to churches in the United States. Everywhere the relics were presented tens of thousands of people caame merely to be able to see or to touch the glass cannister that contained her bones. Reader's of Bishop Ahern's, The story of a Love, would understand this outpouring of emotion. Readers of Ms. Harrison's biography would not.

Brother Michel Bettigole - bmb@cghsnc.org

Although Therese Martin may be loved by millions and revered as a saint by many, the fact is she was a human being and subject to nature and nurture in her formative years as all human being are. In this exceptional biography, Harrison explores many facets of Therese's entire life and history and, in my opinion, gives a very compelling, fair and realistic presentation of who Therese was, what shaped her into the woman - and later saint - she became, and what motivated her personal sense of passion and purpose in life that is viewed by many as a model of religious piety, perfection and purity to this day. I emphasize though that the focus is on Therese Martin, not so much the "St. Therese" she would later become after death and upon canonization.

It is for this reason that I can see why some who wish to transcend Therese's humanity and see her only as an untouchable and iconic saint would be disappointed in this book. Harrison makes Therese very real to the reader and focuses on her humanity and the possibilities of what may have made her tick based on insightful and grounded interpretations of the numerous family letters, documented testimony given at Therese's beatification after her death by her sisters and surviving family members as well as others who knew her, and clues given as revelation to support Harrison's biographical portrayal of the inner person with the use of Therese's own words.

And yes, Harrison does view Therese's life through the lens of modern day research, logic, fact and psychology rather than the more superstitious or supernatural perception that contemporaries in Therese's day might have viewed similar - but I think that's what makes this biography so wonderful. I came away feeling I "knew" Therese in a way that I highly doubt I ever could just viewing her as a archetypal image of "Saint" - and I think that's the point. Therese didn't start out as a Saint. It was who she was and what she did in her 24 incarnate years that gave rise to the desire and official act of canonizing her as such.

In addition, historic context is given so that the reader can get a better sense of what cultural factors went into shaping her into the person she was. I found this exceptionally fascinating because, nowadays, I'm of the opinion that many teenage girls who exhibit similar behavior and attitudes Therese demonstrated to be unrealistically perfectionistic and whom would be deemed likely candidates for such behaviors such as cutting, anorexia, bipolar disorder, intimacy issues, extreme acting out, etc. and who wish to stay little girls forever for fear of embracing their own maturity, sexuality and autonomy. But in Therese's day and in Therese's view via her own words - as well as those around her who served to both influence and support her mentally, emotionally and spiritually - martyrdom and masochistic suffering was seen as supremely beautiful and holy and her purposeful intent on remaining childlike in so many respects seems to lend itself to the perception that she was and remained innocent, pure and virtuous. I'm not implying that Therese was anorexic or that she cut herself - nor does Harrison even remotely suggest this - but Therese did view physical self-mortification and self-injury in a psychic sense as proof and example of holiness and beauty and a way to demonstrate willing self-sacrifice to her beloved, Christ: did despise her own flesh; did take supreme joy in her own suffering and the illness that would eventually take her life; did push herself to embrace what she reviled, recoiled from and initially resisted; did expect a lot from herself and was merciless in her own self-expectations and self-criticism when she fell short in her own eyes; and did exhibit attitudes that, for a young woman in her 20's, were amazingly infantile, immature and the stuff of fluffy romance novels or fairy tales with an emphasis on courtly - but unrealistic - love with a religious flair. Also, I found Therese to be a bit of a paradox (but what person isn't?) and found myself wondering how conscious she was about much of what she did. Supposedly her aim was to be "nothing" but her focus on becoming nothing is exactly what drew attention to her and made her "something." It makes one wonder if this might have been her unconscious desire that, based on her values, she could not allow herself to acknowledge even to herself.

Some could view these as examples as exemplary religious behavior while others may see them as extreme, strange a perhaps a bit on the twisted side - but I feel Harrison lets the judgment of beauty or lack thereof remain in the eye of the beholder - the reader - without unduly attempting to bias or influence with opinions of her own slanted one way or another.

And while some may view Harrison's treatment of Therese to be too psychoanalytic and perhaps not reverent enough, it was this very reason that I gravitated to this book and found the biography thoroughly interesting. I do not think Harrison's analysis went overboard though, nor do I feel the approach detracts at all from the notion that there was something unique about Therese to warrant many to feel she had qualities in accordance with what I gather Catholics view to be saintly. However, not being a Catholic myself, yet fascinated by notable people in general - especially those who demonstrate or are revered as spiritual exceptionals no matter the religious or spiritual path they follow - I was very pleased to learn more about Therese in a way that made her real, tangible and human rather than viewing her at a idealistic distance atop an unreachable shelf of a pedestal. As I said, I came away feeling I "knew" Therese in a way that I would best be able to relate to her - human to human. And I suspect this is why I found the biography to be exceptional. I have no idea how to relate to St. Therese, but I can say that the reality of Therese Martin as a human being, based on what I gained from reading this book, is fascinating and thought provoking.

Author Kathryn Harrison's biography, Saint Therese of Lisieux (Penguin Lives), explores the life and times of this young icon of the Catholic Church for the Penguin Lives series. "The Little Flower" is one of the most revered of the Church's saints.

Therese Martin, born in 1873, was the youngest of five surviving daughters of Louis and Zelie Martin, successful lacemakers at Alencon. Zelie died when Therese was four years old; though the child was indulged by her father and sisters, she held herself from a very young age to the highest standards of piety and religious devotion. Religious fervor ran deeply in the Martin family, as it did in so many Catholic families in late 19th century France. All five Martin daughters eventually went to the convent, five as cloistered Carmelites. Therese was so sure of her vocation that she applied to enter the Carmelite monastery at Lisieux at the age of 15. When she was turned away because of her age, she petitioned the bishop (her uncle Isidore) and eventually the Pope for permission.

Therese distinguished herself by her self-denial, suffering and mortification, notable even in that cloistered world. In her writings she repeatedly referred to herself as the "Bride of Christ," the "toy of Jesus." Her letters, poems and plays from this period reflect her belief that deep spirituality can be found in an ordinary life, "the little way," and do not require great achievements. When she contracted tuberculosis, Therese glorified her illness as a "burning away of her corporeal being." She died in 1873 at age 24, after suffering horribly from her disease.

Her sister Pauline, a Carmelite nun, urged Therese to write her spiritual memoir before her death. The resulting manuscript, heavily edited by Pauline, was published posthumously as "Story of a Soul." This memoir and Therese's letters, prayers, poems and plays found a rapt audience among Catholics. Therese's sister Celeste, who was allowed to continue her photography in the convent, documented her life with pictures and also was her literary executor. Therese's convent brought in huge revenues selling Therese's writings, pictures, and relics, little squares of her bedsheets and splinters from her windowsills.

While Kathryn Harrison's book is respectful of Therese and of the groundswell of devotion that grew in her memory, she does reference the convent's role as the engine that brought Therese to the world's attention and built the momentum for her sainthood. She was beatified very quickly, and became a saint in the Church's canon just 24 years after her death. In 1997 she was named as a Doctor of the Catholic Church, the 33rd saint (and third woman) so honored.

Readers looking for a devotional treatise on St. Therese of Lisieux have plenty of material to choose from; this book takes a different and more distanced approach. Harrison, to the chagrin of some readers, threads a psychoanalytic thread through the text. For example, when Therese was an infant her mother could not feed her and sent her away to be wet-nursed; Harrison suggests that this early "abandonment," along with Zelie's early death, fostered Therese's desire to experience perfect, eternal love as a "Bride of Christ."

There is a fascinating story here--the story of a girl whose spiritual path took her beyond her sisters, beyond her contemporaries, to an articulation of faith that made her beloved by Catholics worldwide. Her own "Story of a Soul" may be all the explanation needed by many who love her for her spirituality, but she lived for a time in the world and was of the world too. Harrison provides a cultural context for behavior, attitudes and verbal expressions that can't be adequately explained in 21st century terms; in doing so, she brings "the Little Flower" into focus in a way that's complementary to the devotional writings honoring her.

Linda Bulger, 2010

Kathryn Harrison writes triumphantly about Therese Martin the Saint of Lisieux. Her biography captures the historical character from childhood to her death at age 24 years. Harrison portrays the life of Therese amidst the context of the late 19th Century. The focus of the book is on the family life and the convent life of Therese and her seemingly constant struggle to rest in perfect devotion to God to whom she had sacrificed her life.

Harrison writes exquisitely of Therese, but she writes at times from a freudian, humanistic point of view, somehow missing or misunderstanding the mysticism of Therese's life that is the one characteristic that makes her life remarkable. I think this comes from the writer discounting the reality of Therese's constant communion with God.

I recommend this book because it illustrates the power of a quiet life lived in the love and service of God. Harrison successfully shows the effect of one life lived fully for God unselfishly and sacrificially. The final pages offer a brief glimpse of the enormous impact Therese has had on people since the time immediately following her death.

Craig Stephans, author of Shakespeare On Spirituality: Life-Changing Wisdom from Shakespeare's Plays

This biography is an odd mix of dispassionate relating of facts together with old-hat Freudian speculations about sexual matters and supposed "insights" from the likes of Susan Sontag and Thomas Mann. Not only is the book not insightful, it entirely misses the point. I had not previously read anything about St. Therese, and I came away from this wondering what all the fuss about her could possibly be. I'll try the autobiography next, which is probably where I should have started.

Unfortunately this was the only biography of Therese in my local public library. All biographies are to some extent seeing the subject thru a lens, but this lens filters out much of what is of the most value in Therese's writings in my opinion. This biographer seems unable to dive into or convey much of Therese's spirituality, due to a lack of understanding or excessive skepticism of spiritual experience. Biographer doesn't seem to be convinced that spiritual experiences are real. She continuously suggests that Therese's spirituality may be just neuroses and offers up superficial pop-psychological comments for every spiritual experience. Its like a biography of a mountaineer but the biographer is not at all sure that mountains really even exist at all, and they may be a figment of the fevered imagination. Biographer thinks this point of view is attuned to what "contemporary readers" expect but it just ends up missing most of whats there spiritually.

You'd never expect it from the life of a saintly nun (especially one whose story you knew), but according to Ms. Harrison's interpretation the life of St. Therese was all about sex. Freud would be proud. Harrison does recognize that Therese's "Story of a Soul" is indeed a love story. Sadly, she seems to think that it as much about Therese's love for her father, combined with her sexual repression, projected onto her relationship with Jesus.

To be fair, I think the author really does try to discover what it is that draws us to the Little Flower, and to some extent she succeeds by spotting Therese's intensely passionate humanity. But this is so overshadowed by Harrison's seemingly complete lack of understanding of the spiritual life. More than once I just wanted to shout "Stop it!" as the author delved into arm-char psycho-analysis (the curse of modern biographers, it seems).

Toward the end of the book she seems to develop a bit more respect for St. Therese, no doubt in proportion to Therese's own maturing faith. A good bit of space is devoted to describing Therese's death, which is something you miss in "Story of a Soul".

Still, even (perhaps especially) if you just want to see Therese Martin the person, St. Therese's autobiography is a much better read.

Ms. Harrison's take on this much commented upon saint is insightful, sympathetic, but not worshipful. One gets the sense that it was hard being Therese Martin--too conscientious, overly protected, and beset with family expectations to be perfect, to be a saint. The wonder of Therese's life is that she reached its end a balanced and loving personality whereas a weaker or less inspired soul could have slipped into depression, narcisism or over-scrupulosity. Ms. Harrison implies that the key to Therese's spirituality was her struggle against abandonment due to the early death of her mother and the loss of her older sisters to the convent. Her response, curiously Buddhist in its approach, was to accept that life is suffering and that it can only be relieved by abandoning the self. Clearly, she pulled it off because she has become the most beloved and endearing of modern saints.

I have not read any of the poems or the autobiography that Saint Therese is known for; I was drawn to this book because I had heard of her and wanted to learn more about her. This shorter biography seemed the best route in that regard and Kathryn Harrison does a commendable job of introducting Therese to readers who may not be familiar with this saint.

Harrison begins her biography with a look at Therese's parents and the role their failing and success played in Therese's life. She would lose her mother at a young age, and constantly look for mother figures in her sisters, the Virgin Mary and any visions she experienced. Harrison weaves the saint's poetry and writings throughout the piece, offering insight and expansion when needed. After her death, Therese Martin quickly became a very influential religious figure. Having received a special dispensation from Pope Leo XIII, Therese Martin was able to enter the convent at Carmel at the age of fifteen. She had always dedicated her life to the Lord and would not allow anyone to hold her back, even the Mother Superior. Her older sisters were nuns in the same order, springing from a religious family that predestined their daughters' lives for this role. Therese recorded her life in the convent and wrote poems and plays that inspire readers to this day. She was misunderstood perhaps by her fellow sisters because she longed for a nothingness in her faith that only God could grant.

When her tuberculosis progressed, her sisters took to recording conversations with her for posterity, which were used in her beatification. She died at the age of twenty-four and she received the fastest canonization in the history of the Catholic church.

Other reviewers have mentioned that this book misses the point, but I disagree. In offering some of the so-called Freudian analysis of Therese and her writings, the author is not diminishing their content or ardor; she merely mentions that these comparisons can be made, and it is up to the reader to decide how they interpret these writings. There is throughout Therese's life the knowledge that she wanted nothing more than to be a nun and to become a saint; so there are naturally instances when she almost seems to be posturing, knowing how she acted then would forever be remembered and critiqued if her desire was to be granted. And readers should not forget that when a woman takes a vow to become a nun, that their husband is Christ Jesus and the ceremony is a wedding of sorts; any language that the author has used to express this relationship paints it as a union of Saint Therese's soul with the Holy Spirit.

While an excellent addition to the "Penguin Lives" series, those looking for a view of "The Little Flower" through a hagiographic haze will have to look elsewhere. Kathryn Harrison's brutally frank (though not unsympathetic look) at Saint Therese of Lisieux might be historically accurate but is bound to be a letdown for her most ardent devotees.

Harrison uses family letters and the documents of Therese Martin's canonization process to paint a portrait of the Martin family and the world they inhabited. Even by the conservative standards of late 19th century France, the Martins were unusual, even odd. Both parents, Louis and Zelie, were extremely devout Catholics, to the point that Louis insisted on a "Josephite" or celibate union for the first 10 months of their marriage. All five surviving children -- eventually and sometimes with difficulty -- fit themselves into religious communities. The Martins were extremely wary of secular society, keeping their daughters from "worldly" pleasures that others thought charming and innocent. The portrait shows the Martins as a close and loving family, though extremely insular and somewhat fixated on death. Therese was a strange little girl obsessed with the things of the Church -- creating little altars in the backyard and holding funerals for dead birds. Perhaps these were among the few amusements she was allowed. Early separations from her mother left her emotionally fragile, never quite capable of internalizing an image of "Mother" that was warm and nurturing. Harrison sees Therese's embrace of convent life as a lifelong attempt to find a permanent presence that would never fail her, as her own mother did. Her bloody, tubercular death was difficult to watch, though inspiring (in its own way) for the way that Therese turned every pain and discomfort into a new sacrifice for God.

There is much strength in Harrison's attempt to limn the psychology of this saint. Inasmuch as Therese fought her attachment to her body and sought to annihilate her personality, Harrison (ever the modern) works hard to reassemble a complete Therese -- emotional, social, psychological and even sexual. Sometimes, Harrison seems to overreach, attempting to discern sexual stirrings behind Theresa's concerns for "purity" and expressions of desire for a violent and rapturous union with Jesus. But better to err on the side of seeing Therese enfleshed than to imagine her as serenely unconflicted and untroubled by the impulses that all humans must deal with.

I can't say that I came away from this book desiring a devotion to St. Theresa. Her discomfort with the world was too extreme, and her family life too constricted and introverted. Her experience and achievement, evidently inspiring to those of her time and beyond, seem a bit out of place today, as we attempt to live religiously *through* our flesh, not by shucking the body as evil. In any event, Therese Martin will continue to be honored as a spiritual athlete who pushed the envelope of piety as understood in her time, and who retained her devotion to God through intense self-negation and a protracted and painful final illness.