I've been reading Dorothy L. Sayers, who was (I'm sure you all know) more than simply a "Writer of Detective Stories," as her blue plaque, perhaps rather sniffily, describes her. She was also a profound and clear thinker about Christian theology, and, according to at least one of her biographers, seems to have taken agnosticism to its highest level by never being quite sure whether she was a Christian or not. She did, however, do it the courtesy of thinking about Christianity as though it were a serious subject, and thus once again gives the lie to all those who maintain, in the teeth of the evidence, that religion only works if you don't think at all.
Specifically, I'm reading her translation of Dante's Divine Comedy (completed after her death by Barbara Reynolds, but I haven't got to that bit yet), and in particular her lengthy introductions to each book, in which occasional glimpses of the characteristic Sayers humour enlighten what might, in someone else's hands, have been a somewhat turgid exegesis of mediaeval theology; and she's reminded me of something I think I always knew about hell, though who told me I can not now recall.
( There follow certain thoughts concerning hell... )
At any rate, it's a fascinating read, and I have got to try terza rima at some point, if I can find a suitable subject that appeals to me.
Specifically, I'm reading her translation of Dante's Divine Comedy (completed after her death by Barbara Reynolds, but I haven't got to that bit yet), and in particular her lengthy introductions to each book, in which occasional glimpses of the characteristic Sayers humour enlighten what might, in someone else's hands, have been a somewhat turgid exegesis of mediaeval theology; and she's reminded me of something I think I always knew about hell, though who told me I can not now recall.
( There follow certain thoughts concerning hell... )
At any rate, it's a fascinating read, and I have got to try terza rima at some point, if I can find a suitable subject that appeals to me.