Catholic Fiction

Reviewed by Rachel Murphy

I happened to pick up this little novella while staying at the home of friends of mine while they were away. (They had set aside their little “library” room for me—a dangerous prospect!)

Written in the style of a letter from an “eyewitness” to the execution of the 16 Carmelite martyrs of Compiegne near the end of France’s Reign of Terror, July 1794, it is a partially fictitious rendering of a historical event, but no less compelling for the liberties taken. Indeed, I found myself disappointed that there was no real Blanche de la Force.

This novella was also the source of inspiration for Georges Bernanos’ last work, Dialogues of the Carmelites.

The Song is immediately compelling by the “force” of its strange heroine, an invention of the author. Contrary to her name, Blanche de la Force is timid as a rabbit, having unnatural and an unreasonable degree of fear—from childhood—of insignificant things; and indeed, of all life itself…and of death. When she is of age she seeks entrance into the Carmel of Compiegne—in part, to seek refuge from the terrors of the world. Blanche is admitted—although reluctantly—because of the support of the prioress, and in spite of the objections from the forceful personality of Marie of the Incarnation, who, from the first, cannot comprehend the timid personality of Blanche, and what seems to be her lack of heroic zeal.

As the novel progresses, Blanche struggles to overcome this unreasoning fear that possesses her, although it seems that all the good will in the world cannot take this cross from her. Like Jesus in his agony in Gethsemane, she bears this fear, somehow, mysteriously, on behalf of others. Like a symbolic figure juxaposed with the Revolution’s mock goddess of Reason or Liberty, Blanche seems to represent within herself the Terror of the times. Later, when Marie of the Incarnation is temporarily acting in the prioress’s stead—and as Robespierre’s Reign of Terror is at its height—she proposes that the community make a voluntary vow of martyrdom, and the struggle of fear within Blanche reaches its climax.

Simply and beautifully written, Song at the Scaffold is engaging from the first…it is a short read, and nearly impossible to lay aside, once begun. Its characters are wholly compelling, and its themes thought-provoking. A wonderful book for young adults and adults, and a nice complement to the study of the French Revolution.

Gertrud von le Fort seems to challenge our sense of the heroic, and questions whether timidity and fear are not actually less dangerous than the tendency to pride and presumption of more great-minded people. We must have good will, and great effort; but all the human effort in the world can do nothing without the grace of God; indeed, that “His power is made perfect in weakness,” a strange and paridoxical triumph.