"While reading Mr. Chadwick's "Secularisation of the European Mind," I was amazed by how this historian and Anglican minister could examine history with equal erudition and perennial Christian principles. In that book, he demonstrated the need to understand both ideology and philosophy to grasp the nature of historical processes, and even pointed out the beginnings of modern economics in two of the main tenets of the Protestant Reformation � to establish heaven on earth and destroy the contemplative life. It was cold logic, for Luther and his peers sought certainty in salvation, which roughly translated to "be baptised and hate popery", and you will be saved. But what would the Christian do until his last day? Well, he could drink and curse and sin at will, as Luther, or try to impose tyrannically a code of morals to appear better than everyone else, as Calvin did; but both required money and power, and here lies the birth of the modern City of Man.

But, alas, I'm not talking about that book. Chadwick had his opinions as an Anglican minister, but he seldom talked about his personal views and let the facts and doctrines speak for themselves. So, I thought I ought to try his History of the Popes, and I wasn't less stunned � it's one of the most precious pieces of academic literature.

Some say the history of the king is the history of his kingdom, and vice versa, and the same is true here, for it's equally a history of the Popes and the city of Rome. It starts with the pontificate of Gregory XVI, originally a Camaldolese monk, and the reasons that justified his conservative policy, after the French Revolution and the Napoleonic storm. There's the birth of Catholic Liberalism and the tragedy of Lammenais, the naive priest who tried to conciliate Aquinas and the Catechism to modern principles, and apostatised after being censured by the Magisterium. After Gregory came the polemic Pius IX, and his personal development from sympathetic to a mitigated form of liberalism to being fiercely traditionalist after his minister was publicly murdered and the Pope was forced to flee from Rome. It was a turbulent period for the Church: masonry, conspiracies and rebellions everywhere, and "Il Risorgimento". More than one French Archbishop was violently killed. The Pope became captive in the Vatican just after the closure of the Vatican Council � these tribulations brought together the Roman Pontiff and his flock, and the definition of the Extraordinary Magisterium made the Church more aware of her Ordinary Magisterium. We watch Pope Leo XIII trying to navigate the situation and establishing Thomism and Catholic doctrine on Scripture against the excesses of criticism and sceptical philosophers. Finally, the reign of Pope Pius X, how he encapsulated the spirit of his predecessors, and his struggle against the State and the dissenting members of his flock. This book will give you a phobia of ever dreaming of becoming Pope.

I'm writing before the Conclave of 2025, so it will be interesting to remember Chadwick's observation about these elections. He noted that, at least in the last two centuries, there's a tendency to elect a diplomat, then a pastor, compensating for the deficiencies of the predecessor, for the diplomat tends to enrage his flock while the pastor tends to infuriate the outside world. Occasionally, there's an academic Pope who likes to write and does things his way.

Here's the scheme, roughly:

Gregory XVI (diplomat) > Pius IX (pastor) > Leo XIII (diplomat) > Pius X (pastor) > Benedict XV (diplomat) > Pius XI (academic) > Piux XII (diplomat) > John XXIII (pastor) > Paul VI (diplomat) > John Paul I (brief; pastor?) > John Paul II (pastor) > Benedict XVI (academic) > Francis (diplomat)."

"This was supposed to be my Lenten reading however Lent really went full force so I wasn’t able to finish during lent but this collection is a goldmine (as my friend says) of advice that can still be applied to our 21st century lives. The main message is that for one to be saved (if I’m understanding correctly) is for one to humble themselves, we are to imitate Christ, so in this case, His humility in the face of everything . Trying to consider yourself worse than anyone else but to not be in despair at the same time is a fine line to walk on. Even considering oneself to be worse than a dog is brought up, as a dog loves everyone but we don’t. I shall continue to reread this."

"This book seems more realised as a novel than the first one. We're following Tenar in her path to freedom and self-discovery. It appears that Le Guin aimed at a more mature audience with this one, for the themes of cults, pagan rites, and human sacrifices to occult forces are very heavy indeed. Also, I can't agree at all with how the Gods of Darkness or Nameless Ones are treated, for what Christians would see as demons, Le Guin treats more like the chaotic side of nature, in a way, an intrinsic part of Equilibrium � Ged even says they shouldn't be worshipped, but neither denied.

In the narrative side of things, the book operates as a slow burn, and things truly fall into place when Ged appears in the tombs. Even so, it was interesting to know how the tombs worked, and Arha's arc wouldn't be as impactful if there weren't much character development at the beginning. For me, the best part of the story was the characters' psychology, especially the female ones � they all felt real, which is a blessing in comparison to what we get of cringeworthy dialogue these days. I also liked how Ged is treated, with power and misery, and the internal fighting between Arha with her Lords of Darkness and Tenar with her compassionate nature was truly compelling, which comes to a head when Ged said: "You must be Arha, or you must be Tenar. You cannot be both".

Interestingly, Tenar reminded me of the more recent real-life story of Tenzin Ă–sel Hita y Torres."