El artículo original en español puede leerse aquí.
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Let me begin by saying that I greatly enjoyed The Awakening of Miss Prim. It strikes me as a very original novel, deeply rooted in the beautiful tradition embodied by Jane Austen and George Eliot. It is also very necessary, as it raises the very questions that we, as humans of the 21st century, ought to strive to answer for ourselves.
As much as I like the characters, the story, and even the setting, I wouldn’t want to live in San Ireneo de Arnois. Or rather, I might enjoy it excessively, yet I don’t think it’s the ideal environment for raising children – especially if the goal is to raise children who have any connection to the real world.
San Ireneo de Arnois is a Tradilandia, a neologism borrowed from neo-French with tradi roots, used to describe a town where a large influx of traditional Catholic families has managed to reverse the overall trend of secularization within a given municipality. As a result, leaving behind the dreadful, secular, and republican civilization, one gets the impression of having returned to the France of Louis XIV, or at least to something very much like it.
For now, we will not dwell on the Benedict Option, which we already addressed when performing an autopsy on the communal dodo. An autopsy, because the ideological dodo of Rod Dreher and his followers is born dead due to the enormous and growing difficulty of finding Benedictine abbeys willing to serve as the spiritual lightning rod for a community of residents.
We won’t dwell on it, but that is precisely one of the issues (and not a minor one) with San Ireneo de Arnois: its existence depends on the presence of a thriving Benedictine abbey nearby and, even more implausibly, that said abbey is in a state of relative laxity regarding the observance of the Rule of St. Benedict. This would allow the reverend Benedictine monks to have a significant external apostolate. The “Irenian” option would have been more credible (albeit less literary) if the moral authority of the town had been entrusted to a secular cleric, which, incidentally, is the normal state of affairs.
Even setting aside that detail, which is not without significance, we believe that in this series of articles on the true and false notions of traditional simple and rural living, artificially traditionalized towns do not seem to us to be the solution either.
One obvious drawback strikes any real-world traveler visiting a Tradilandia (whether in France, Germany, or the United States): no matter how much effort is made to keep most of the population insulated from the outside world, someone will always have to confront it – if only to secure a job that sustains this utopia at the local level. This invariably causes problems.
Some, enchanted by the peaceful atmosphere, good neighborliness, and public and private morality that permeate everyday life in San Ireneo de Arnois, may forget that they are living on an island surrounded by the stormy sea of the Synodal Path, the fierce (and economically absurd) clash between Trump and Harris, and the laïcité (“polite anti-Christianity”). Worse yet, some may come to resent the fact that, in this traditional utopia, certain disruptive elements earn their livelihood precisely alongside the enemies of traditional utopias.
There will also be those who argue that life in Tradilandia necessarily requires renouncing all modern conveniences and technological advances simply because they are modern. They may claim that only those who commit themselves exclusively to primary-sector activities can acquire citizenship in Nueva Jerusalén de Santa Ernestina, a town much newer than La Carolina or La Carlota.
Proponents of moderate pastoralism, who acknowledge that rural life is essential (both as a necessity and as a foundation for true community living), while at the same time admitting that the internet is not intrinsically evil – a point both the author and readers of this piece would agree on – could assert that agricultural self-sufficiency is unfeasible. They might also contend that certain technological advancements are indispensable, and that not everyone can afford to turn their back on 99% of the planet. After all, Catholics, however traditional we may be, are not Amish who pray the rosary. Those presenting such arguments will face anathema from those who sustain Tradilandia with their delusions of self-sufficiency, discreetly bolstered by imports of raw materials from the outside world.
A second, even more significant drawback is that Tradilandia does not represent reality, and I do not find it sensible to present it as such to children. It is clear that children should not be raised as worldly people raise their own, nor exposed without any protection to the moral and ideological horrors that abound everywhere, like spirits infesting the air or a lion seeking someone to devour. Yet it is equally important that future adults understand that such things exist, that they are dangerous and evil, and that they must be avoided while striving to convert everyone – good, bad, and non-Catholic – to the One True Religion.
While it is true that education in Tradilandia might (and this is merely a possibility) prevent our children from falling into certain vices, it is equally true that keeping them entirely naïve about the real world – because, again, we are not Amish who pray the rosary – could result in far worse consequences when they inevitably encounter it. This is to say nothing of our duty to set a good example and to work to convert and guide toward virtue even those who are neither our children nor our companions in voluntary exile.
The longing for community, whether among traditionalists or others, must necessarily choose one of these three possibilities. First, it could involve fully accepting the inexorable arrival of Progress and, consequently, stoically resigning oneself to the impossibility of reverting to more human and reasonable forms of social organization. Consistently, a traditionalist of this mindset would attend the Mass of the Ages on Sundays (likely at a modern yet traditional parish, such as Ecclesia Dei). The rest of the week, they would live like any other “normal” citizen. If they retain any political traditionalism, likely out of familial loyalty, they would dedicate it to supporting folkloric causes like the CTC.
On the other hand, the melancholic traditionalist may categorically reject everything related to Progress, angrily conflating technical advancements with sociological and political changes. They overlook, however, that these changes occurred alongside the former, not as a direct consequence. An ideologically open society – one that no longer seeks or proclaims truth, but instead focuses exclusively on consensus – develops more easily in a world where X and WhatsApp exist. Yet, neither WhatsApp nor X has the power to transform consciences or societies; let us not deceive ourselves.
As a result, the naïve agrarian must flee the world, seeking refuge in an artificial (though highly artistic) society in the form of Tradilandia. In such a place, none of those elements will have any place, and their existence will be kept in absolute secrecy from the younger, still uncontaminated, members of the community.
Finally, one may choose the more complex alternative, which requires distinguishing, separating, defining, and selecting with patience and wisdom. This approach involves carefully considering what is truly progressive in Progress and what is merely an illusion.
Even a pastoral, simple, rural, and traditional life can benefit, in a moderate and intelligent way, from certain technological advancements. Similarly, some degree of communication with those who do not share our faith or ideas can – aside from the duty of charity – not only be absolutely necessary for our daily lives but even highly beneficial.
Perhaps, or at least that is my belief, San Ireneo de Arnois is not a philosophical place in the sense of a utopia that certain naïve Catholics might attempt to build. Instead, like many great works of literature, The Awakening of Miss Prim does not look to the future but to the past. It offers us a fictional society meant to inspire the true restoration of Catholic society.
This restoration does not consist of a carefully guarded, self-sufficient anthropological reserve built in the shadow of an abbey whose monks, perhaps – and even very likely – have little interest in our presence (because if they did, they probably would not be monks). Rather, it consists of reforming the society in which we already live.
Traditionalists, too, believe in Progress, because progress is always possible in every human endeavor. Nothing is perfect here on earth. The main difference between our progress and that of the progressives is that ours remains rooted in the wisdom of our forebears. This does not mean, however, that we stubbornly insist on living exactly as they did – especially when that would require embracing the circus-like experience that all Tradilandias can become.
Perhaps The Awakening of Miss Prim is a literary work in the best sense of the term – one that poses questions rather than provides answers. San Ireneo de Arnois is not a miraculous solution to the fundamental unsociability of modern man. Instead, it is a reflection of that very unsociability, appealing to a deep feeling that many did not even realize they harbored: the desire to live as its inhabitants do.
Portraying this discomfort of contemporary man in beautifully crafted pages is the task of the writer. Responding to and healing that discomfort is the mission of others.
G. García-Vao
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