The passage below is taken from Andy Nowicki's new publication, Ravages of the 'Rough Beast,' now available on Kindle, and in paperback.
The priest with whom I scheduled a meeting about my "demon" problem was—I am
convinced--- a man of personal decency and theological reliability. I do not
have an easy time opening up to people, particularly if they strike me as
fundamentally unserious in nature or disingenuous in temperament. It is not
enough to intuit genuine compassion in another person, though compassion is, of
course, a desirable, indeed, a necessary characteristic in a confidant.
But I find it foolish to seek spiritual intimacy based merely on the sense that a would-be adviser seems “well-meaning.” Good intentions are a good thing… but they are also known to pave the road to a certain loathsome place which I have visited all too frequently, one I very much wish to avoid taking up as a permanent residence.
This man, however—let us call him Father Fine, as he was indeed a “fine” man—again, struck me as possessing a grounded personality and a sincere faith. I felt I could let him know directly of my state of mind and spirit. Yet to my dismay, he appeared quite skeptical, even dismissive, when I asked if he knew of someone within the priesthood who might be willing to function as a spiritual adviser. With a shrug and a smirk, he likened such a request to the seeking for a “guru,” and indicated that he didn’t think such a course of action would be especially useful for me.
My heart was already sinking at this point, as I detected that his dubious attitude could not be overcome, nor was I interested in trying to talk him into believing that my concerns were worth addressing. Weakly I muttered something about how I had no use for a ‘guru” per se, with the sort of connotations suggested by such an epithet (That is to say, I didn’t wish to join a cult or be mind-controlled by a charismatic charlatan); then I added that I had for a while been experiencing what I suspected to be demonic influence or oppression, though I took special care to make clear that I did NOT think myself possessed, as I inferred that if he even suspected I was making such a claim, his skepticism towards my expressed dilemma would only grow more withering.
At some point, in order, I suppose, to attempt to convince him of the reality of what I suspected (and still suspect) to be my “demon issues,” I confessed to having often been seized by sadness, and often feeling out of place. Father Fine responded to these revelations by chiding me for not being friendly enough, for behaving standoffishly, and for all too often holding myself aloof in social settings; he suggested that I make more of an effort to be sociable with others. (He apparently based this critique on what he had observed of me during Church-related activities). Moreover, he added, it made sense that people would reject me, if I behaved in a way that did not seem friendly or hospitable to them…
It was at this point of our discourse when my mounting despair reached its terminal nadir. Had the occasion been different, I would have been miffed at his effrontery at choosing to give me ill-conceived lectures; instead, I just felt the misery of one who has failed to make his case heard, despite having practically pleaded on its behalf.
I hadn’t, after all, scheduled this meeting with Father Fine to have my people skills and socialization habits dissected. I would freely admit, of course, to being a quiet, unassuming person most of the time, with a particular disinclination for small talk or chit-chat. I have never been “Mr. Congeniality,” for better or for worse. But I hadn’t visited my priest’s offices out of a desire to know how to better my social life, as should have been clear from everything I had told him.
But I find it foolish to seek spiritual intimacy based merely on the sense that a would-be adviser seems “well-meaning.” Good intentions are a good thing… but they are also known to pave the road to a certain loathsome place which I have visited all too frequently, one I very much wish to avoid taking up as a permanent residence.
This man, however—let us call him Father Fine, as he was indeed a “fine” man—again, struck me as possessing a grounded personality and a sincere faith. I felt I could let him know directly of my state of mind and spirit. Yet to my dismay, he appeared quite skeptical, even dismissive, when I asked if he knew of someone within the priesthood who might be willing to function as a spiritual adviser. With a shrug and a smirk, he likened such a request to the seeking for a “guru,” and indicated that he didn’t think such a course of action would be especially useful for me.
My heart was already sinking at this point, as I detected that his dubious attitude could not be overcome, nor was I interested in trying to talk him into believing that my concerns were worth addressing. Weakly I muttered something about how I had no use for a ‘guru” per se, with the sort of connotations suggested by such an epithet (That is to say, I didn’t wish to join a cult or be mind-controlled by a charismatic charlatan); then I added that I had for a while been experiencing what I suspected to be demonic influence or oppression, though I took special care to make clear that I did NOT think myself possessed, as I inferred that if he even suspected I was making such a claim, his skepticism towards my expressed dilemma would only grow more withering.
At some point, in order, I suppose, to attempt to convince him of the reality of what I suspected (and still suspect) to be my “demon issues,” I confessed to having often been seized by sadness, and often feeling out of place. Father Fine responded to these revelations by chiding me for not being friendly enough, for behaving standoffishly, and for all too often holding myself aloof in social settings; he suggested that I make more of an effort to be sociable with others. (He apparently based this critique on what he had observed of me during Church-related activities). Moreover, he added, it made sense that people would reject me, if I behaved in a way that did not seem friendly or hospitable to them…
It was at this point of our discourse when my mounting despair reached its terminal nadir. Had the occasion been different, I would have been miffed at his effrontery at choosing to give me ill-conceived lectures; instead, I just felt the misery of one who has failed to make his case heard, despite having practically pleaded on its behalf.
I hadn’t, after all, scheduled this meeting with Father Fine to have my people skills and socialization habits dissected. I would freely admit, of course, to being a quiet, unassuming person most of the time, with a particular disinclination for small talk or chit-chat. I have never been “Mr. Congeniality,” for better or for worse. But I hadn’t visited my priest’s offices out of a desire to know how to better my social life, as should have been clear from everything I had told him.
*************
Again, I wish to emphasize that Father Fine was a fine man,
but he simply seemed uninclined to take me seriously. In retrospect, I wonder
if he felt himself improperly equipped to receive my concerns; perhaps they
struck him as altogether too exotic, compared to the sort of things he
typically heard from people. Or possibly his credulity prevented him from
acknowledging the demonic realm in anything other than a broadly theological or
dispassionately academic manner.
In any case, the failed interview it left me demoralized.
Even the blessing that he bestowed upon me at the end of the conversation (at
my request) came across as awkward, half-hearted, desultorily formal. I am
quite sure that he felt as frustrated as I did, in his own way. He didn’t mean
to have failed me so badly; again, he was a good man, yet for all of his
good-naturedness he couldn’t bring himself around towards comprehending the
actuality of my demon-haunted psychic state.
Travis Bickle's "Father Fine" moment:
Travis Bickle's "Father Fine" moment:
Andy Nowicki, assistant editor of Affirmative Right, is the author of eight books, including Under the Nihil, The Columbine Pilgrim, Considering Suicide, and Beauty and the Least. Visit his Soundcloud page and his YouTube channel. His author page is Alt Right Novelist.
