I am starting to read through Anthony Esolen's other book, Nostalgia: Going Home in a Homeless World (Washington, DC: Regnery Gateway, 2018). Again, while much of Esolen's work isn't exactly what I thought it would be, there are still insights he has that dovetail my own experience, and I wanted to talk about one of those today. This is an important one, because there are dimensions to this that often cannot be articulated as well as they should be. The concept I am talking about is a distinctive Appalachian trait called "sense of place," and it is to a degree one reason why it is of interest as it also affects me personally. Esolen devotes a whole chapter in his book to this, with the chapter title being "Man in Place." There are many aspects to this, so I will dive right into it.
If you were to visit my hometown of Hendricks, WV, and were new in the area looking for something specific, it would be customary to stop and ask directions. Many of the old-timers I grew up around there (the majority now gone) would have a unique way of giving directions too - it is landmark-based direction, as street signs and words like "north," "south," "left," and "right" would matter little to people there. If you grew up in the area, you just know where something is. The concept of "sense of place" has a huge investment in this thinking, as the landmarks are sort of an expression of the pride of the locals in where they come from. I have to a degree inherited that same mindset, as even now I give directions based on landmarks, even when it is a place I am not from but have lived there a while. For instance, if I am in Baltimore, and wanted to give directions to a restaurant, I would use directional words but also punctuate them with landmark references, such as "turn right at the coffeehouse on the corner of East and Eastern." It is wired into who I am as a person. It is at this point now we move onto another aspect of the "sense of place," that being the feeling a place invokes.
Near my hometown in Tucker County, WV, we have several remnants of old mining, railroad, and lumber communities called "ghost towns." They have names like Bayard, Kempton, Gormania, Douglas, etc. Even though many of these places are now long-abandoned, and all you may see is woods or an occasional ruin of a chimney, that place is still known by that name regardless. As a kid, I loved going through those old places, as it evoked a sort of mystery for me. Even today, I have fond memories of those old places, which don't look like much to most other people. It is because I feel a connection to those places though, as I have deep roots there. Dr. Esolen explains this on page 30 of his book when he says "Let me not suggest then, that man loves his place because it would be a nice postcard. He loves it because it is in him, and he is in it; it bears the impress of his fingers, and it touches the nerves of his soul. The place that has once been seen and worked and loved by man is no longer a mere intersection of longitude and latitude." I say to that - exactly! I think more than anything Dr. Esolen captures the essence of "sense of place" in that description, and as he goes on, he notes on the next page that one cannot belong in any place in quite the same way. Granted, many of us have lived many places - I personally have lived in 5 states, and while each contributed to a chapter that is my life story, it is not the same as the place you have roots. Now, that is not to say that other places don't evoke similar memories though, especially when related to childhood. For me, just as an example, I have a "sense of place" over an entire region that stretches from roughly Morgantown, WV, to Baltimore, and my childhood played out over that entire region. I have recently moved back to Baltimore, but I lived here before - I went to kindergarten less than a couple of miles from where I am sitting, and my folks lived in that neighborhood of the city for generations, so I have a history here. While that history does not stretch to the east side of the city, which is where I live and work now, Baltimore still plays a role in my early history. And, that old neighborhood over on the west side of town where I spent about two years of my life still evokes memories of things. And, it creates a longing in my soul as well - the Baltimore of today is by no means the same as the Baltimore of 50 years ago, as so much has changed over time (and not for the better, I may add). That being said though, there are some things that still evoke the old memories here - one place is a pizzeria over on Eastern Avenue called Matthew's. Their pizzas are very unique, in that they evoke that taste of pizza I recall from when I was 5 years old. Just a stimulus like that - a pizza - can serve as a reminder of our past. I had another such episode the other day when we visited Solomon's Island, about an hour south of here. We ate at a good seafood place, and I had ordered fried oysters. As I was eating those though, I tasted something that was familiar to me, and it was a pleasant experience. Our senses at times do that to us too, and it is quite the thing when it happens. Now that I have shared a little of that, let me now address a negative that Esolen addresses as well.
On page 41 of the same chapter, Dr. Esolen notes that those who hold a more leftist/progressive mentality are of the belief that if something grows old, worn, or discarded, it should be forgotten. This explains why they are so iconoclastic in society recently and are trying to recreate the society in their own image. As Esolen notes later in the chapter on page 43, the secularist focuses on the future without having a foundation in the past, as the future cannot lay a foundation because it hasn't happened yet. This is where utopian fantasy then becomes dystopian reality, and this can be disastrous as we have seen in recent history. While we may not be able to recreate the exact aspects of the past - the past is the past too, and much happens over time obviously - we can preserve the best of our past, and it will shape the future for us in many ways. But, we also must not forget the worst aspects of the past either - simply erasing those could cause problems of a different sort, as it is a denial of reality and will also create an atmosphere of dishonesty. Preserving the good and learning from the bad is what helps create healthy memory, and bad things often happen for a reason. The reason could be our own failures at something. It could also be a circumstance we were thrown into that we didn't cause or expect. And, despite a bad experience, a good thing could come from it. Take the example of a manure-filled plot of ground. It smells horrible, it is grossly unpleasant, and it is not something you want to be around a lot. But, from that nasty experience can grow beautiful roses or succulent fruit, and it is the bad that makes the good possible in that regard. It is a bit simplistic maybe, but there is also a spiritual truth there too - often, we have to die to self in order to grow, just like a seed planted in the earth. It can be unpleasant, painful, and it is not something we want to recall, but we grow as a result. Adversity can be a huge motivator for success, as it does build up the character and it also anticipates that we must overcome challenges to get to where we need to be. It is called life, and it is a reminder that we live in a fallen world, but that we can also use that fallen world as fodder to grow too. This is even true with places which shape our past as well - some places may be painful for us to revisit, but they remind us that if we had not had that bad experience, we may not be where we are today. After all, a crucifixion of our Lord later led to his Resurrection, but the fruit that bore did something for all of us who understand what happened - it gave us salvation and eternal life. Calvary is a place, and in sacramental life, we are endowed with a supernatural grace that allows us to revisit that sorrowful place in the partaking of the sacrament (in this case the Eucharist) and it in that regard is a time travel of sorts. It is a mystery of faith we cannot explain in words, and nor should we unless we end up getting into a bog of potential heresy, but we know what it does for us. The spot where Christ died for us is where we too are resurrected and given a new life, and a bad place becomes something beautiful because of the love that it represents for us. We too can turn our bad places in life into a beautiful testimony of restoration, because supernatural grace makes that possible for us. And, thank God for that.
As I wrap up these reflections on Esolen's writing as well as my own ideas about "sense of place," it presents a challenge. Sometimes we have to go back, to revisit, and to reflect upon certain memories, and given we are a creature that responds to physical symbolism, a place or an event can be what motivates us to do just that. This is true both on the individual level, but also for humanity in general - we accept Christ's ultimate gift of himself for us by revisiting the event where he gave himself for our sins, and we then humbly and joyfully receive that grace in order for us to grow in our faith. Hopefully that will be an encouragement to someone, so thanks for joining me, and will see you next visit.
