Celine & Florine

THE STETTIES, ACCUSTOMED CEREMONIOUS

The Amazing Stettheimer Sisters ~ 2017 Exhibition
Portrait of Myself
Portrait of My Sister Carrie W. Stettheimer
Portrait of My Sister, Ettie Stettheimer
All three paintings by Florine Stettheimer ~ 1923

Florine, 1871–1944
Caroline (Carrie) 1869 – 1944
Henrietta (Ettie / aka Henri Waste) 1875 – 1955

Victoria Reis: "Stettheimer’s portrait of her younger sister Ettie places her in a dark, starlit setting in front of a combination burning bush-Christmas tree, perhaps to signify the family’s cultural assimilation as Jews who celebrated Christmas. Like Florine, the subject also appears to be floating in space, lounging on a red fainting couch. An ornament on the tree, a red book inscribed with the name “Ettie,” represents Ettie’s role as the author and intellectual of the family."

Stettheimer's Christmas painting is the perfect accompaniment to this poem -- by my friend ~ Celine -- that I came across when looking through an old Christmas scrapbook from grad school days:

Presents

Presents wrapped in paper --
presents tied with bows!
Outward signs can help us
signal deeper things we know.

Can any gift be greater
than the persons in this place,
each given to the others
for beauty, joy, and grace?

But

will we stop today to stare
at each and every face?
Will we take the time to care,
or just hurry on and race

to open

presents wrapped in paper --
presents tied with bows?

Outward signs can help us
signal gifts we could forget

we know.

Merry Christmas and Blessings

Always ~ Sister Celine Carrigan
December 13, 1983

**************

Thanks also to my friend Katie,
who recently sent me a passage from Rilke’s
Book of Hours that echoes the message of Celine's poem
that a true present cannot be contained within a gift box:

"I don’t want to think a place for you.
Speak to me from everywhere.
Your gospel can be comprehended
without looking for its source.
When I go toward you it is with my whole life."

**************

And this from Mister Owita's Guide to Gardening:
How I Learned the Unexpected Joy
of a Green Thumb and an Open Heart
by Carol Wall (1951 - 2014)

“It occurred to me that friendship itself could be a kind of church.”

**************

And, finally, this blessing from G. K. Chesterton, which
captures the creative and varied life of "The Stetties":

“You say grace before meals. All right.
But I say grace before the concert and the opera,
and grace before the play and pantomime,
and grace before I open a book,
and grace before sketching, painting, swimming,
fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing
and grace before I dip the pen in the ink.”
[See also Michaelmas & Martinmas]

**************

The Stettheimer sisters ~ "The Stetties" ~ with their mother
by Florine Stettheimer

Family Portrait I, 1915

Family Portrait II, 1933

Next Fortnightly Post
Saturday, December 28th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com

Notes Toward a Heroine of Sensibility

ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

"The whole of anything is never told;
you can only take what groups together."
from
The Notebooks of Henry James
A couple of things happened over the weekend:

First, I had a note from the niece of my dear friend and literary colleague, Celine Carrigan, marking the 20th - year memorial of her passing. Twenty years . . . without Celine . . . it will never seem right.

Second, I had a call from my friend Sandy S - K asking me, on behalf of her studious daughter Rachel, how I used to prepare for my big exams. What came to mind was my typical strategy, suggested by Henry James (above) of taking "what groups together."

In fact, I remember applying that particular strategy when getting ready, with assistance from Celine, for a presentation on "The Heroine of Sensibility" (one of her specialties) -- and I still have those notes! So I pulled them to take a look and see what I had learned and hopefully retained from that study session.

Thus, I begin this post with a shout - out of "Congratulations!" to Rachel on the completion of her M.A. in English / Writing. And I dedicate these musings to the memory of Celine's scholarship and pedagogy. She was a gentlewoman and a scholar, a beloved teacher and a true friend, and a heroine of sensibility in her own right.

~ Heart - shaped ornaments ~ a gift from Celine ~

From the 18th Century through the present day, the heroine of sensibility has animated the British and American novel with spirited introspection and vibrant discourse. Despite lack or loss of legitimate authority in her life, her will is always strong enough to initiate a natural regrouping, restoring order and continuity. She strives for autonomy, self - determination, and a life not entirely bound by acquiescence. Modernist Carolyn Heilbrun suggests a more appropriate designation: "The Woman as Hero."

Such a character believes herself sufficiently in control of the situation at hand; she develops a sense of her own identity as she contemplates and searches for destiny. As with any male hero, the woman as hero struggles with the tension "between her apparent freedom and her actual relegation to a constrained destiny."

All you have to do is google "sensibility," and Jane Austen is all over the place. In chronological order here are a few additional authors and novels that capture the characters and the concepts:

Samuel Richardson / Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded (1740)
My thoughts: Her focus finally shifts from the wickedness around her to a matter of confusion within her soul. She identifies herself as "an enemy she never thought of before." She names her own mind as the power with which she must struggle. Pamela holds out for being treated as a social and economic equal, for unrestricted, unclassed treatment as a human being.

Samuel Richardson / Clarissa, or, the History of a Young Lady (1748)
"Steadily she [Clarissa Harlowe] has refused the marriage he offers: she cannot marry without love, cannot love without honour, and cannot honour the man who, by every action, has ruined his (not her own) honour in her eyes" (Elizabeth Bowen, from English Novelists, 1942). Clarissa transcends the limits set by the novel's world.

Henry Fielding / The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling, 1749
" 'Love,' says Squire Allworthy, 'however much we may corrupt and pervert its meaning . . . remains a rational passion' " (21).

Charlotte Bronte / Jane Eyre (1847)
"But Jane, like Clarissa Harlowe, still identifies virtue with the power to keep her fate in her own hands" (Elizabeth Bowen, from English Novelists, 1942).

"As Celine Carrigan notes . . . Charlotte Bronte's heroines, unlike their creator are generally 'free from the burden of imposed responsibility' (214, "Versions of the Governess: Narrative Patterns in Ellen Weeton, Elizabeth Gaskell, and Charlotte Bronte." Diss. U of Notre Dame, 1988). They work to support themselves, but do not have others dependent upon them; rather, they assert her belief that work in itself is respectable and healthy for women" (Christine Doyle in Louisa May Alcott and Charlotte Bronte: Transatlantic Translations, 140).

from Jane Eyre, Chapter 2: "How is he my master? Am I a servant?"

" 'Unjust! -- unjust!' said my reason."

Jane resolves to achieve escape from insupportable oppression.

Chapter 10: " . . . my experience had been of its rules and systems; now I remembered that the real world was wide, and that a varied field of hopes and fears, of sensations and excitements, awaited those who had courage to go forth into its expanse, to seek real knowledge of life amidst its perils."

Emily Bronte / Wuthering Heights (1847)
"The love in it is relentless, as pure of hope as it is of flesh. . . . here is the real English dark tower of passion above rationality. Wuthering Heights bears no definite feminine stamp -- though perhaps only a woman could have liberated her spirit so completely" (Elizabeth Bowen, from English Novelists, 1942).

Henry James / Portrait of a Lady (1881)
My favorite thing about Isabel Archer: when she says, "I feel very old." And Ralph responds, "You'll grow very young again. . . ." (Chapter 54, p 471).

James gives Isabel traits of himself and of his beloved cousin Minny Temple, who died young of tuberculosis and of whom he said: "She would have given anything to live."

Created late in the 19th Century, Isabel is a modern heroine of sensibility: honest, imaginative, innocent, intelligent, philosophical, presumptuous, reflective, soul - searching -- so many admirable traits! Even so, it is a struggle to order her own life and control her own destiny without being "ground in the very mill of the conventional." Thinking over the ways in which fate and friends have let her down, Isabel suspects that "she might have been a woman more blest."

E. M. Forster / Howards End (1910):
Of course, I have invoked Forster many times over on this blog for his iconic phrase "Only connect! (See Mission Statement, Commonplace Book, King & Queen, Handful of Dust, RedBear.)

Taking a closer look at the hero of Howards End: Margaret Schlegel begins the novel with an awareness of herself, her sexuality, and her lack of inheritance; by the end, she inherits from Mrs. Wilcox a sense of England and a sense of reality that allows her to pass the inheritance on.

Helen to Margaret: "But you picked up the pieces, and made us a home. Can't it strike you -- even for a moment -- that your life has been heroic?" (222 - 23).

E. M. Forster / A Passage to India (1924)
My favorite thing about Adela Quested: "She loved plans" (147). She speaks the truth, makes decisions, alienates everyone, shakes the world, and makes a fool of herself in the cause of justice. Unlike other characters in the novel, she is capable of public heroism. She finds her function beyond the range of her womanhood. As a heroine of sensibility, her innate quest is not necessarily bound by a desire for romance and children. [Likewise Miles Franklin's heroine Sybylla Melvyn in her 1901 novel My Brilliant Career. In the movies, both Adela and Sybylla are portrayed brilliantly by Judy Davis.]

Doris Lessing / The Golden Notebook (1962)
Anna thinks,"That will be my epitaph. Here lies Anna Wulf, who was always too intelligent." Anna and her friend Molly are "free women," but their emotional structure is incompatible with the fragmentation of real life: " . . . the point is, that as far as I can see, everything's cracking up" and our strongest emotions are irrelevant to the time we live in. Despite her notebooks, Anna fears that her words "have no connection with anything I feel to be true" and suffers from a lack of conviction and faith in her own significance. As a heroine of sensibility, Anna wonders "What anonymous whole am I part of?" Furthermore, she is willing to pay the price of seeing whole, including anxiety, exhaustion, and responsibility: "The world would never get itself understood, be ordered by words, be 'named,' unless [she] remained a woman who was able to be responsible" (651). [Likewise Margaret Drabble's character Alison in The Ice Age who must endure for the sake of her daughters.]

Though possessed of many gifts and talents, the heroine of sensibility still makes mistakes; in fact her very self - honesty and introspection sometimes lead her into inevitable error. The woman as hero is not always able to please herself, nor does she escape her share of the world's burdens. Yet her path is made more interesting to herself and to the reader because she consults her feelings and acts from the highest dictates of her intelligence.

SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS ON MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Sunday, May 14th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com

Ever the Best of Friends

A PARK WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS
Or, A Little Fortnightly in the Park With George -- and Celine!

A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte (1884 - 86)
Georges Seurat, French Post-Impressionist Painter (1859 – 91)
@ Art Institute of Chicago

Echoing Seurat's masterpiece is this related painting, which Gerry and I were lucky enough to see while we were living in Philadelphia and able to attend some Barnes exhibits:

Les Poseuses (The Models) (1888)
Seurat's Companion Painting
@ Barnes Foundation, Philadelphia
In connection with last fortnightly's post on the birthday of my kindred spirit Celine Carrigan (August 29, 1942 - April 24, 1997), here are a few stories of her endearing and enduring friendship, and some fun times that we shared while in grad school and beyond. We did our best to observe all feasts and seasons and acknowledge all holidays and festivals, through the mail if not in person. The last Valentine Celine sent, in February 1997 when she knew she was very ill, was printed with the simple verse:

Heaven knows each heart, each name
Heaven sees us as the same

and Celine had added in her own elegant handwriting:

Whether we're
happy or sad
sick or well
near or far.

One happy time we loved to recall was the day we rode the South Shore Line from South Bend to Chicago to visit the Art Institute, stand before Seurat's magnificent depiction of A Sunday on the Island of La Grande Jatte (scroll up), and then see the Sondheim musical that was all the rage at the time, Sunday in the Park with George:

". . . staring at the water
As you're posing for a picture
After sleeping on the ferry
After getting up at seven
To come over to an island
In the middle of a river
Half an hour from the city
On a Sunday
On a Sunday in the park with...
George . . .

People strolling through the trees
Of a small suburban park
On an island in the river
On an ordinary Sunday"

~ Music & Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim

We weren't using the greatest camera in those days,
but I treasure this fuzzy photographic keepsake of the day:

~ Kitti & Celine ~ Labor Day Weekend 1987 ~

The following semester, Spring 1988, Celine completed her Ph.D. and returned to Benedictine College in Atchison, Kansas. I was two years behind Celine, and didn't finish until August 1990. As scheduling conflicts would have it, we were unable to attend each other's ceremonies, despite having been through so much together. Instead, we celebrated over the phone and through the mail. Celine sent me two beautiful cloisonne bracelets from the Smithsonian and told me that they represented all the hoops that we had jumped through. You can see that -- like Emily Dickinson (whom she greatly admired) -- Celine was a master of the dash:

Dearest Kitti -

Am wanting today to have something very special to mark your graduation day, something which reminds me of the hoops one must jump through for the degree. I would lavish gifts on you, but most of all -- dear friend -- I send armloads of love. How I wish I could be there for you and with you! When I think of all this degree entails -- you deserve Congratulations Unending!

I'll be calling soon, and I look forward to seeing you, Gerry, and Ben whenever you come this way.

Peace, blessings, and always love, Celine

P.S. My Congratulations with a reminder that -- there are no more hoops -- only love that -- in the end -- lasts. Yours -- ever gratefully -- Celine

I had only rented, not purchased, my robe and doctoral tam o' shanter for the ceremony. Even so, I was allowed to keep the souvenir tassel at the end of day. But, alas, in all the excitement of traipsing around campus, picking things up and turning things in, I surrendered my tassel quite by accident and did not even think of it until late that night after a long drive home, as Gerry and I had already relocated from Notre Dame to Purdue -- and were the new parents of two - month - old Baby Benedict.

I called Celine the next day to share all the graduation details, including my disappointment about the forgotten tassel. We talked about the possibility of contacting someone in some office at Notre Dame and figuring out how to order a replacement, coming to the conclusion that, in time, this small crisis would sort itself out; though with tiny Ben to take care of, it might take me awhile to work through the red tape.

Celine, however, did not miss a beat. Although she didn't mention it to me on the phone that day, she had come up with a plan, even as we were speaking. She too cherished her graduation tassel but generously, and without dropping the slightest hint to me, slipped it in the mail the next day so that I would not have to be without. Imagine my surprise a few days later, finding a package from Celine in my mailbox, and inside such an unexpected and treasured memento!

That's just the kind of thing you do when you're "ever the best of friends" (our favorite phrase from Great Expectations) -- and when you are as kind - hearted as Celine. Somehow, in the end, we procured the duplicate, so we each ended up with our coveted tassels (for those who collect such things). In the grander scheme of an entire degree program, the tassel was only a small thing, yet the selflessness of Celine's gesture was huge. Reminiscing in 1993, she wrote to me:

Can you believe that it is 10 years since I began the Ph.D. at N.D.? How grateful I remain for you and your being there in those "good old days."

In Our Academic Regalia
Celine & Her Parents ~ Spring 1988 / Kitti ~ Summer 1990


October 1990
Taking Baby Benedict to visit Sister Celine
Benedictine College, Atchison, Kansas

The following year, we had another adventure at the Chicago Art Institute. We had seen each other every year or so in various locals since our departure from Notre Dame, but it had been four years since our South Shore Ride to Chicago to see Sunday in the Park, and we determined to meet once again in our favorite city.

This time, I was riding the train up from West Lafayette just for the day, and Celine was flying in from Kansas City with some colleagues to attend the M/MLA, held in Chicago in November 1991. Before her meetings began, we were going to enjoy the art museum. I arrived first and browsed the gift shop for awhile, then took a seat on a bench in the lobby. As I was opening my book to read, a receptionist approached and asked -- was I Kitti Carriker, waiting for Celine Carrigan? Remember, these were the days before cell phones or texting, but from a payphone at the airport, Celine had called the museum and asked them to convey a message, to someone of my description, that her plane was delayed. As often happens in these situations, one delay led to another; but Celine kept phoning in updates, all of which were delivered to me by the kindly folks at the front desk.

Not to worry. I knew Celine was safe and on her way. I had plenty of reading to do -- and some Christmas shopping:

At last Celine arrived, somewhat frazzled by a trip that should have been much simpler than it turned out, but ever her faithful and optimistic self. The ticket takers embraced us and said they were waiving our Art Institute admission that day, as a reward for being such loyal friends and so determined to enjoy our day together at the museum, despite gloomy weather and traffic jams. Whatever hours of quantity time we may have lost that morning, we made up for in quality time that afternoon, revisiting the Seurat, as well as Caillebotte, Cassatt, Chagall, Hopper, and O'Keeffe. Another unforgettable day in legendary Chicago.

After a cup of tea together, I scurried to catch my return train, and Celine hailed a cab to her conference hotel. Ever the best of friends.

1988 ~ "Ever the best of friends; ain't us, Pip?" ~ 1995

More Pics
SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post
Wednesday September 28th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com

All Roots and Reasons

A HOUSE WHERE ALL'S ACCUSTOMED, CEREMONIOUS

Celine ~ Summer 1994
Visiting Dove Cottage, where the poet William Wordsworth
and his sister Dorothy lived a life of "Plain living and high thinking . . . "
from December 1799 to May 1808
Grasmere, Lake District, England

Celine ~ Summer 1994
Visiting a house once lived in by Elizabeth Gaskell,
one of the major subjects of Celine's research.
Knutsford, Cheshire, England
I am posting a day late this time, on the 29th instead of the 28th in honor of my dear friend Celine Carrigan, born this day 74 years ago. Anyone who knew her, and even some who did not have the chance, can scarcely believe that the world has been turning for 19 years without her gentle, loving touch. How we miss her and always will!

Celine Carrigan, O.S.B.
August 29, 1942 - April 24, 1997

"A Room of One's Own," where Celine wrote her dissertation:
"Versions of the Governess: Narrative Patterns in
Ellen Weeton, Elizabeth Gaskell, and Charlotte Bronte."
Celine was in the PhD program with me at the University of Notre Dame (1984 - 1988). Her area of specialization was Charlotte Bronte & Elizabeth Gaskill. When I knew her, she had already been a Benedictine nun, a teacher, and a death - row advocate for many years. She was at Notre Dame on sabbatical from Benedictine College in Atchison, Kansas, where she returned upon the completion of her doctorate in 1988 and taught for 9 more years until her untimely death from ovarian cancer in April 1997. As I wrote to Celine's sweet great niece not long ago, Celine was an angel upon this earth! And not just because she was a nun -- she would have been an angel no matter what she did. When she died, our mutual friend Marv wrote: "So sorry to hear about Celine. She was such a gentle soul, and good person. There is clearly no relation between life span and beauty, tenderness, kindness, bravery, intelligence or wit."

Celine's office in the library at Notre Dame.
I like it that of all the book titles,
the one word you can clearly see is "SOUL."
The perfect story for a blog of literary coincidence is the delightful request I received from a girl I had never met; yet, through Celine, we were connected. It seems that there are always so many surprising connections just waiting to be made, so many voices nudging us "to nurture the souls of things," as I learned last year when the following note appeared in my inbox:

Hi, Kitti! My name is Mads Carrigan (as you can see), and I'm Sister Celine's great-niece. Her brother, Pat, is my grandpa. I found one of her poems online at one point, and can't find it. I looked up her name and came across your blog! She died when I was only a few months old, so I never got to know her, but I've been told that she was a wonderful person, and you seem to have thought so, too! I just wanted to thank you for writing about her at all, because I've always loved hearing about her.

Do you by any chance have her poem, "Spring"?

****************
Dear Mads -- The particular poem you mention doesn't immediately come to mind, but I have saved every card and note that Celine ever sent me, and I will gladly start a little project of going through them all until I find anything at all similar to the one for which you are searching.

I would love to talk to you about Celine anytime! I wish you had known her! She was an angel on this earth! She often talked to me about all of her nieces and nephews and loved them all!

****************

How thrilled I was to write back the following month with the good news that I had been able to track down what was undoubtedly the poem that Mads had come across when she googled Celine's name but then lost track of -- so easy to do and so very frustrating (as I well know from many a search and frantic re - search).

This beautiful poem was the re - discovery that Mads was hoping for and a new discovery for me. I was not acquainted with it from any writing that Celine had shared with me previously; yet suddenly, here was her voice ringing back over the years, reminding me of her attention to every sensory detail, her astute perception, her measured pace, her love of the world -- just as it is, combined with her hope for making it even better.

Thank you Celine for remaining near and for leaving behind this poem for us to find. And thank you Mads for letting me know that "Spring" was out there for the finding -- to see, to hear, to taste, to smell, to touch!

And thank you Cindy Carrigan Apple for sending this printed version:

Spring

I want to live this spring
not hurry it away, or
neglect its nearness.

I want to look long at
shoots and leaves--
at all roots and reasons
for be-ing once again.

I want to hear sparrows sing,
soft rains fall, and voices
that nudge me to nurture the
souls of things.

I want to taste berries,
(and--maybe--burritos)
new flavors of ice cream
and backyard cooking, and
savor long the caring of
those who came and call.

I want to smell roses,
lilacs and lilies, early morning air,
good coffee, and cake rich with
orange rind and cherries and
its giver’s goodness.

I want to touch water and wood,
other’s hands--everything alive,
so steeped in summer sunshine
and the glory of rebirth.

I want to feel pretty, at peace
with memories and surprises.
I want to pray and linger
over time in the open spaces
of my heart.

I want to hope,
and believe,
and love.
I want to live this spring. [emphasis added above]

~ Celine Carrigan, O.S.B.

Kitti & Celine ~ Ever the Best of Friends ~ Celine & Kitti
Fall 1987 ~ Notre Dame ~ South Bend, Indiana

SEE YOU IN TWO WEEKS FOR MY
Next Fortnightly Post ~ also in honor of Celine ~ "Ever the Best of Friends"
Wednesday September 14th

Between now and then, read
THE QUOTIDIAN KIT
my shorter, almost daily blog posts
www.dailykitticarriker.blogspot.com

Looking for a good book? Try
KITTI'S LIST
my running list of recent reading
www.kittislist.blogspot.com