The Nun's Prayer
 

Good advice.;)

Amen

10/.4

That is something to strive toward.

Sometimes you read something penned in another age and there's just something so compellingly human about it. There's an element of gendered expectations to it, in that this is specifically a set of behaviours for nuns to avoid and there was a particular set of behaviours and tones that were especially associated with old women.

But it is a pretty warm and respectful expression of it and doesn't specifically present them as faults of old ladies - I like that it is presented more generally than that, as possible faults of old age, borne of years of struggle and learning, and through which most us hope to navigate, if we're very lucky. It speaks to something human and recognisable even at a remove of centuries. The idea of wanting the fortitude to age gracefully and with acceptance.

I find that a lot with early modern writing, that sudden sense of connection . Some of the early medieval stuff, like Bede has moments like that too. Surprisingly direct and to the point at times.

Gender and nunnery didn't enter into it for me.

I read it as commentary on the faults of people.

It is both, I think. Many of those faults would have been seen as a factor in old age for men and women. The notion of interfering and complaining about their health and so on. But, there was a particular association of those faults with old women - the so-called old wives. Being a chatter-box or gossip, and bossing people about was one of the stereotypical female faults (at all ages something to guard against, but especially when old) and much of the advice literature aimed at women emphasised the need for sweetness and grace and not talking too much or too emphatically.

It's a prayer about a fairly general set of points, much of which is universal, but written in a manner and with a focus designed to be accessible to and useful for women, and informed by a view of the faults old women may be particularly, though not exclusively, prone to - hence it being offered as a helpful prayer for nuns.

A very similar prayer could have been written for men, but it would almost certainly have had slightly different emphases, and used some different vocabulary.

There's a warmth to it, I think. Which is probably why it resonates still.

It impressed me as honest introspection of a person picking up speed on the downhill side of life. I was cleaning out a drawer in my desk that I couldn't squeeze a damn letter into.
A lot stuff came home when I cleaned out my first desk at Westinghouse in '74. No internet, computer input was on punch cards, quarter mile walk to the closest Xerox machine, and most of the crap going around was mimeographed, or a Xerox of one.
We did have 12" wide laminator so I have some things I preserved in plastic like an 10-25-72 article in the Wall Street Journal by Arthur Schlesinger, about the financial, political, and constitutional malpractice of Nixon & Company.
I had voted for him in '68 and was very unhappy with him but after this I was beyond livid. I think one of the reasons my Ex is My Ex is because she voted for him in '72 and I never trusted her after that. Not just the vote but the smirk when she told me.
Wow, talk about thread drift. :blush:

I should say, by the way, when I talk about advice literature for women having a particular focus and being informed by a particular view of women, I mean advice written by both men and women.

I am not familiar with this prayer, but I would imagine it was written by a nun for other nuns. It feels like something written by a woman for women - the tone is very in keeping with a lot of the early-modern, female-authored advice books. It doesn't have that stentorian edge that you often get when it was written by a male author (with some exceptions) for female consumptionand. Also the intimacy of a sense of shared experience that you get with closed or occupational communities - reminds me a little of some advice I read,by an NCO for young up and coming corporals to help them in their careers, about the pitfalls of rank, especially for the older sergeants. Much longer and very different, but there's a sense of shared experience specific to the writer and reader.

it does sound like good advice on living well.

It does not sound like it was written in the 17th century.

I know, right? Can't tell you how often I've thought that about stuff I've read over the years. It's one of my favourite things, when that happens. It's a massive part of why I love historical research.

I'm not sure it wasn't a 20th century construction labeled with a date and type face to give it gravis. The advice is probably timeless, although I haven't a clue how nuns, no less 17th century nuns, think.

You've said this before, a couple times. You seem to be surprised discovering people from different times and places were... people.
Sure, people in 17th century Scotland didn't worry about nuclear war or germs, they didn't know about them. But they had to worry about something because nobody has ever had a trouble free life. Jealousy, rage, fear, etc, aren't modern constructs.

It's not that I'm surprised as such - except in the sense of it being an ordinary miracle.

A lot of what is produced by a culture is fixed in time - made inaccessible by cultural references that no longer carry the same meanings, social norms and nuances which seem alien, or which skip past us unnoticed because we understand the world in different ways. A lot of what survives is removed from us by virtue of artifice and changing forms and conventions. A great deal of what survives highlights the difference in experience.

Some of that difference is just about how that culture expresses itself. Some of it is about fundamentally different ways of experiencing the world. But obviously - we are humans and we share some central and unifying human experiences. From time to time, there's that little glimpse of where we meet and I have always found that thrilling

If it's a modern piece, then it's very well done.




[eta] actually, rereading it there are quite a few words that seem anachronistic - bossy,for instance. And some of the sentence construction seems too modern. The tone's great though. And the wry humour has quite an authetic feel to me.

Well, I thought it was worth saving for 40 odd years, so in must have rung my bell. Of course some of the... most of the other stuff is not for polite company. :lol: