On a rereading of Augustine's Confessions for our Great Books Redux for the first time in 40+ years, it was not at all the book that I recall. This was striking because the works we have read so far seemed largely as I recalled them. This says a lot not only about myself, but concerning the work itself. What is it that makes this work change more radically based on reader's, or at least my viewpoint?
Prior to the latest reading, I recalled this as a work written by a devout man who reflected on his spiritual journey from birth through sex and fun until a rebirth by hearing tolle, lege in a garden. Beyond that highlight, it was a long, boring slog.
This time, I was startled by the critical spirit of Book I as he discussed the lack of innocence in children and the hypocrisy of adults. Simmering with resentment, he criticizes the abuses of power of others in authority as well as his own sinfulness and even God (I.18). His perfectionism shines bright especially in the story of the stolen pear and by the end of Book II, I thought to myself, "this guy is even worse company than the apostle Paul; what the hell happened to him?"
But in III.2-5, I saw a glimpse of something deeper. Neuroscientists are still baffled by an issue he raises: why does sad art constitute a joy to people, even those already in sadness? Such introspection brought his feelings closer to me and caused Book IV's "death of a friend" to be moving. Augustine witnesses the power of faith found at death's door and experiences a "black grief closed over my heart." I teared up at his telling.
To judge both others and himself, as he repeatedly does in these early books, rests on some notions of free will and ultimately, earned love. Perhaps at the time of my first reading, his assumptions then seemed correct. At that time, it was impossible for me to conceptualize the notion of love as unearnable. Even more, sex and love seemed inextricably linked. So it resonated when he wrote that Alypius "was most interested to know what this element was, without which my life, which appeared to him so attractive, would be to me a punishment."
I shared with Augustine a long-term personal focus was on lust - defined as the usage of a physical desire to meet a spiritual purpose. I have assisted dozens of others, exploring the message that if love is earnable, then love is finite, whereas love understood as unearnable expands to meet the infinite demands of our hearts.
Relating to his telling in VI.15.25 of his forced separation from his long-term and faithfully kept love, I was deeply pained. Whereas my first reading in college was based on a perceived disregard for this unnamed soul mate, I now saw that I had read superficially, mistaking cause and effect. Rather than her departure being the effect of lust, I now understood that her departure, "being regarded as an obstacle to my marriage" was the cause of lust to heal the gaping wound of his broken heart.
Out of his heartbreak and the related interest in evil, he moves to a new understanding that existence itself manifests goodness so that in VII.13.19, he writes, "far be it from me ever to say, 'These things ought not to be'" exclaiming "there is no wholesomeness for those who find fault with anything you have created" and briefly achieves a view of "That Which Is." I found myself sharing in this unfettered flight of the mind.
This view leads to a conversion, or what might be termed a spiritual experience. He traces the movement from a self-understanding that "disordered lust springs from a perverted will; when lust is pandered to, a habit is formed; when habit is not checked, it hardens into compulsion." (VIII.5.10) Then he moves to a self-inventory as he writes "You set me down before my face" (VIII.7.16). Finally the spiritual experience. It created an evident change - "my face was peaceful now." (VIII.11.30)
Having worked with others, the elements leading to a spiritual experience are almost always the same - an understanding of a problem of weakness, a personal inventory taken with rigorous honesty and then an experience that creates a change sufficient to provide power - which is frequently marked by a personality as well as facial change.
Augustine's post-spiritual experience was dramatic. After moving through his early newfound footing in Book IX, Books X and XI were some of the most beautiful writings I have ever read. It was as if I were in the presence of a great musician and simply found myself letting go and being led by the beauty of his riffs. Those two chapters held me with perfect clarity. It was as if I were removed from bodily sensations and elevated into a harmony of reason.
As I reflected on the entirety of the book, I realized that Augustine was the first writer completely explore subjectivity, to drive the Protestant rebirth narrative (Luther was an Augustinian monk), to share "experience, strength and hope" in telling "what it was like, what happened and what it's like now." His testimony points to a subjectivity that was fundamental in causing me to read the work so differently then and now.
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