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traitors, saboteurs—Satan’s fifth columnists. And the monasteries—themonasteries were not conceived of as places of retreat or refuge in those days, not places in which to find tranquillity and joy. Quite the contrary, the monasteries were understood to be the first line of defense against the almost overwhelming power of Satan. The monasteries were strongholds, bastions, citadels manned by stalwarts who had embraced the warrior’s life for God, who lived the way soldiers live on the front lines—literally sleeping in their clothes so as to be ready for service at a moment’s notice, laboring without comforts, sleeping little, obeying the commands of their superiors without reservation, hardening their wills against the temptations of sloth and self-indulgence. It was perfectly all right for civilians to enjoy the comforts of home, family, and friends, but these were not for the monks. Monks were the shock troops, the Green Berets—disciplined and fit, though they took their exercises in study and prayer—and indeed penance—rather than in calisthenics and the martial arts. Their prayers and their atonements for the sins of mankind held the enemy at bay, kept Satan from overrunning the world.
    If you know anything about the Trappist life, you’ll understand why I was drawn to it.
    Well, you can see that this is an entirely different vision of the monastic life than is known to the average layman, who thinks of the monk (or the nun) as someone who is simply “running away from life”—from what they perceive to be “real” life.
    Did I embrace this worldview? You mean at the age ofsixteen? Yes, I think I did, though I would not have been able to articulate it as fully as this. This was what was meant by being a “serious” Catholic, and I was certainly one of those. A “serious” Catholic “really believes” that all this stuff matters—sin, grace, redemption, heaven and hell, God and Satan. I wasn’t just serious, I was super-serious.
    This was an enterprise that no one could— What?
    Oh, the enterprise I mean is saving the world. Even then I was obsessed with saving the world, though it meant something completely different to me then, of course.
    Where was I? I was saying I wasn’t just serious, I was super-serious. I was like a superpatriot; naturally I wanted to be sent right into action. Being super-serious, I naturally wanted to join the absolute toughest, most demanding outfit I could find, and that was the Trappists. The Trappists were fighting right at the front. People like the Jesuits and Dominicans and Benedictines were so far behind the lines they were practically civilians.
    Of course at the age of sixteen this was something for the future. For the indefinite future.…
    I’d have to say that from the age of twelve or so it was a settled thing in my mind that I was going to be an artist of one kind or another. This was because being an artist was like being perfect and like loving God: something I could do all by myself, without outside help. Do you see what I’m saying? I knew I couldn’t succeed at something that required me to be
liked,
but I could succeed as anartist whether anyone liked me or not. I’m speaking now of the way a twelve-year-old understands such things. Artists can just sit in their garrets all by themselves and write or paint. No one can stop them, and if they’re good at what they do, then they’re good.
    How is this like loving God? Well, you see, no one can stop you at that either. You can just sit there burning with love for God, and he’s got to love you back, and that’s that. You don’t need to depend on anyone’s
support
to succeed at being holy—or to succeed at being an artist. It’s all up to you, all in your hands.
    I was drawn to the arts for the same reason I was drawn to piety, because I could be good at them even if I wasn’t good at anything else.
    I don’t mean to suggest that I could have verbalized all this as a child. It’s simply