Road To Valour: A True Story of World War II Italy, the Nazis and the Cyclist Who Inspired a Nation, by Alli and Andres McConnon (Doubleday Canada, hardcover, 336 pages, $32.95).

If you were Italian or French and crazy about cycling you would know Gino Bartali’s name. But we are not a cycling nation, even if Victoria, B.C.’s Ryder Hesjedal, winner of this year’s Giro d’Italia, has nudged Canadians toward some kind of appreciation of the sport. Bartali won the Giro d’Italia three times and the Tour de France twice.
This true story of Bartali reads like fiction, so incredible are events and circumstances. The setting is mostly pre-war Italy under the rule of Mussolini but extends through the war and into the postwar period. Fascism, Catholicism and communism interject themselves into Bartali’s life.
What could be more normal than a young man who loved to ride his bicycle, who displayed his faith openly, who exulted in the joy of effort for all to see? Bartali was an advocate for Catholic Action. That wasn’t so startling. What was surprising was “how zealously and publicly the Church embraced Gino. He was described as a ‘magnificent Christian athlete.’ ”     
Sport can be a powerful instrument called upon to serve any purpose, personal or otherwise. In Road to Valour, Bartali and his cycling ability combine to create a national hero, admired by all. 
Mussolini’s Fascists wanted Bartali’s endorsement of their system of governance. The Christian Democrats wanted him to align his popularity with their party. The Church, aware of his Catholic Action participation, enlisted his support to help shelter Jews in the Tuscan area.
And then there was the case of Palmiro Togliatti, leader of the Italian Communist Party. It was 1948. The Tour de France was in progress. Togliatti was stabbed in an attempted assassination. He was left in critical condition and lapsed into a coma.
At this moment there is turmoil in the nation and Italy’s government. The Christian Democrats and Communists are vying for power. Italy is on the verge of civil war. Prime Minister Alcide DeGasperi of the Christian Democrates makes a phone call to his friend Bartali. There is still a week to go in the Tour de France. He has a simple request: “Try to make it happen...  it would be very important to all of us.” Bartali was also visited by a papal emissary and given a special medal. He was told “His Holiness wishes that you win the Tour as a loyal and athletic champion.”
Bartali did win the Tour de France. As if on cue, Togliatti awoke from his coma. His first two questions were: “What happened at the Tour? How did Bartali do?”
Bartali’s victory and Togliatti’s recovery, so close on the heels of each other, were summed up by the Le Monde correspondent in Italy: “No event in the world could have been as important as Bartali’s victory. This was clearly apparent on July 15 when the news of his exploits transformed the highly dramatic atmosphere into which Italy had been plunged following the attack on Togliatti.”
One Italian journalist wrote of the triumph: “Bartali wrote in these last two days — if one can write with pedal strokes and drops of sweat — perhaps the most beautiful page of his career.” As for Bartali, he was to express later that “Everyone in their life has his own particular way of expressing life’s purpose... I have my bicycle.”
Road to Valour is an excellent book that gives an informed snapshot of an era. In this case it was of Bartali and Italy, but it transcends that nation and could be descriptive of what happens in so many countries but is seldom recorded. Which is a shame because it leaves nations with nothing but cultural amnesia. The book is well researched and written, worth reading for pleasure, knowledge and a reminder of so many great stories waiting to be discovered.
(Cosentino is Professor Emeritus at York University.)

The prodigious Catholic novelist, historian and journalist Piers Paul Read has just produced his 23rd book, a non-fiction account of the most infamous miscarriage of justice in French history, The Dreyfus Affair. Read’s account of the wrongful conviction of junior military officer Alfred Dreyfus in late 19th-century France on charges of treason — and the campaign to overturn that injustice which set off riots and exposed the shocking depth of anti-Semitism bubbling under every strata of society — represents a perfect marriage of writer and subject.  

Read’s skills as an historian would be required just to do justice to the main event of this many-peopled saga that takes almost 12 years to play out from Dreyfus’ exile and incarceration on Devil’s Island to his full social restitution. But Read’s story is much larger than that. To properly set the scene, Read devotes the first 70 pages of this very readable account to exploring the historic tensions between Jews and Catholics in France, going back to the French Revolution a full century before. And on the other side he brings the story (or at least the implications of the story) forward to the mid-20th century, showing how the Dreyfus Affair gave the world a nasty foretaste of the widespread persecution of the Jews that would be the distinctively horrific hallmark of the Second World War.

Heretics, heresy, lost opportunities and misdirection — Bad Religion has it all.

Depending on where and when you first read about Bad Religion — the book, not the band — you might be of the opinion it is a smart, thoughtful take on the United States and the importance of religion. Or you might be pretty sure it is a sloppily assembled defense of some of the most retrograde Christianity imaginable.

Heretics, heresy, lost opportunities and misdirection — Bad Religion has it all.

Depending on where and when you first read about Bad Religion — the book, not the band — you might be of the opinion it is a smart, thoughtful take on the United States and the importance of religion. Or you might be pretty sure it is a sloppily assembled defense of some of the most retrograde Christianity imaginable.

Jesus was a Jew. Mary and Joseph were Jews. All 12 apostles were Jews. The first ecumenical council of the Church was held in Jerusalem in about 50 AD and everybody there was Jewish — even if they were there to decide what to do about non-Jewish followers of Jesus.

Very few of the people you meet at Sunday morning Mass are Jewish. Still, all these gentiles who surround us in church want nothing more than to know Jesus better. The Jewish Annotated New Testament is an invitation to do just that — know Jesus better.

ROME - Recounting their rural Bavarian childhood and subsequent lifelong friendship, the elder brother of Pope Benedict XVI offers a privileged look at the personal side of the spiritual leader of 1.3 billion Catholics.

My Brother the Pope, published March 1 by Ignatius Press, is based on interviews with Msgr. Georg Ratzinger by German writer Michael Hesemann and was originally published in German last year.

When I began work as a health care ethicist more than 20 years ago, the discipline was focussed on two main issues: respecting the rights of individual patients, particularly through the practice of informed consent, and working through issues posed by the growth in medical technology. Artificial organs, gene-altering therapies, conceiving children in Petri dishes sounded like the stuff of science fiction. But they were real and ethicists grappled with questions of limits, of preserving human dignity, of trying to understand what death meant when a body could be kept warm and breathing almost indefinitely. This was medical ethics in the first, or developed, world.

Editor’s note: Dorothy Pilarski’s Motherhood Matters: Inspirational Stories, Letters, Quotes & Prayers for Catholic Moms is sure to make you think about modern-day mothering.

To wit, The Catholic Register has enlisted two reviewers to give us their take on the recently released book.

The book is available to order from our site or by calling (416) 934-3410.

Author forces mothers to take a look at their lives

By Elena Maria Vidal, Catholic Register Special

In Motherhood Matters, Dorothy Pilarski writes with profundity and wit about matters practical and divine. Full of anecdotes and humour, this book makes us take an honest look at the lives of women today and enourages us to focus on what matters most.

Has “liberation” truly led to greater happiness for women? Are children to be viewed as commodities to be acquired just as we acquire a house or car? Or should children be seen as gifts from God given to our stewardship?

Pilarski makes it clear that until we resolve our confusion about such basic questions then peace of heart will elude us.

“We will find happiness in living out God’s purpose for our lives, not our own,” she writes. “The culture of the early 21st century makes it easy to follow mistaken paths. The media bombards us with the temptation to fulfill ourselves, to find ourselves, to meet our own needs. It is a message of selfishness. And it is spread constantly. Magazines, television, radio, films, books and the Internet promote images of the ‘ideal’ career, body, fashion, home, car, vacation, husband and parenting.

“These ‘ideals’ are often reinforced by friends and family. Influenced by these ‘ideals,’ many of us make important life decisions without first considering our relationship with Jesus Christ and our Catholic faith . . .  As Catholic mothers, we are called to dig deep into our hearts and pray that we are actually co-operating with God’s grace . . . Our children are gifts from our Creator who has entrusted the souls of our children to us.”

Motherhood Matters is comprised of dozens of small essays, which makes it easy for busy people to read. Yet it is never disjointed. One paragraph flows seamlessly into another.

Pilarski substantiates her beliefs about women and motherhood, about divorce, illegitimacy, diseases and the many trials of modern life by using not only her own faith beliefs but by employing statistics from several recent studies. The statistics uphold her piety, showing that when we depart from God and His law there is a price to be paid by us, our children and all society.

Pilarski laments that many women are forced to delay childbearing in order to make money. Even when children are born, women must often forgo nurturing their children and creating a home in order to be part of the workforce.

It becomes obvious in Motherhood Matters that modern culture places less value on motherhood than past generations. Motherhood is depicted as a calling of convenience. Is that fair to women? No, and it is definitely not fair to children.

Women today hear repeatedly that their value to society requires that they be breadwinners like men. Other than that, women are often judged by their sexuality.

Can things ever be made right? Motherhood Matters explores many simple and practical ways women can reclaim their feminine vocation. It examines several obvious truths about women and motherhood, which Pilarski illustrates with short stories from her personal experience.

Motherhood Matters entertains, yet it is impossible to read without taking a hard look at oneself. Throughout the book we are enjoined to turn to prayer as the key to finding the path we are called to follow as women and mothers. We are encouraged to watch and pray, especially when we have teenagers.

“Remaining grounded in a fervent prayer life and being aware of the dangerous messages that exist in the media can better equip parents to understand the challenges that vulnerable teenage girls wrestle with,” Pilarski writes. “Awareness leads to conversations we might have never had. But be prepared. I guarantee that those conversations will challenge you, yet I cannot imagine a life without them.”

The choice that lies before each of us is between a life of authentic love and one of  fleeting material gratifications. No one can make the choice for us. Reading a book like Motherhood Matters makes it easier to choose a life of love, a life which foreshadows the eternity of endless happiness and fulfilment.

(Vidal is the author of three historical novels: Trianon, Madame Royale and The Night’s Dark Shade. You can visit her website at teaattrianon.blogspot.com.)

Pilarski makes her case, but it is not for all

By Eleonore Fournier-Tombs, Catholic Register Special

For Western young women, motherhood is not necessarily a fait accompli. It is often a source of public debate, private questioning, discussion and concern. For women in their 20s and 30s, the possibility of one day being a mother is a source of joy, fear, excitement or indifference. Some women want six children and some women want none. Some women can’t decide and many wonder if they can handle it.

As Dorothy Pilarski writes in Motherhood Matters, being a mother can, no doubt, be a meaningful part of a woman’s life — one that is difficult without a strong support network and a solid faith. With today’s social and material pressures, many juggle several full-time commitments and feel exhausted and unappreciated.

But Pilarski doesn’t stop at these generally uncontroversial claims. Her advice is personal and specific. To the modern young Catholic, her point of view can seem contentious and even harsh.

Pilarski is a well-known Canadian Catholic personality who maintains two blogs, “Gutsy Catholic Mom” and “Catholic Talks by Dorothy.” She also regularly writes for The Catholic Register and has, among many writing and television projects, co-developed a series on Salt+Light Television. She is a mother of two and projects a happy family life.

This collection of essays describes meaningful moments and turning points in her life. She uses personal anecdotes to explain specific advice for mothers, building up to a 45-item list on setting spiritual goals.

While the level of detail with which she discusses her own life is interesting and insightful, the assertiveness with which she makes claims about how Catholic women should approach motherhood might be disconcerting. She argues, for example, that Mary would not have asked another person to raise her Son. By that she means that although women should be encouraged to pursue an exciting career before childbirth, they should take several years off to raise their children. She is critical of women who only take one year off after giving birth. But what about those who can’t afford to take time off or who want to start working again soon after their child is born?

Modern women, and their spouses, take many different approaches to parenting. Some couples decide that the wife should pursue her career while the husband stays at home with the children, other families have extended networks that allow for a warm, loving community even while both parents are working.

Just like men, women often struggle to strike a balance between their work, relationships, spirituality and physicality. Striking this balance is a daily commitment, unique to each person. Motherhood may be a fulfilling and meaningful life path, but it is not the only one, nor is there only one way to engage on it.

Pilarski criticizes feminist women, claiming that a woman should instead be feminine. But feminism — the recognition of the need for political, economic and social equality of the sexes — and femininity — a characteristic that is unique to women — can go hand in hand. Women can be both unique and equal by choosing their own path. And perhaps, unlike Pilarski, they may choose to celebrate Halloween, go back to work or take up yoga when their children are in school.

On the other hand, Pilarski describes raising her children in the Catholic faith with such warmth that it is difficult not to be inspired. Living in joy rather than in fear, and creating an environment in which children can explore and express their spirituality are pillars of the loving home. Her tone in these passages is reminiscent of Jean Vanier’s, who said: “We are not called by God to do extraordinary things, but to do ordinary things with extraordinary love.”  

In this sense, motherhood, career or any combination of the two is a vocation that a woman feels called to, and that, when chosen, allows for the full expression of faith and compassion. In order to be a role model for those around her, a woman needs to trust in her conscience and intuition. It is then, in partnership with her spouse, that she can create a joyful atmosphere in which children can enter, if she feels so called to do so.

(Fournier-Tombs is a freelance writer in New York.)

Jim Forest’s beautifully written and poignant All is Grace: A Biography of Dorothy Day reveals the founder of the Catholic Worker movement as no ordinary saint, if her cause for beatification and canonization opened in 2000 proves successful.

The book does not gloss over any of the controversial aspects of her early life. Before becoming Catholic, Day sought an abortion, hoping losing the child would save her love affair with the baby’s father. Afterwards, she returned to their apartment to find the man had left, leaving behind only a letter urging her to forget him and a small amount of money that he had originally intended to pay a bar bill, Forest writes.

Four years later, she was delighted to become pregnant while in another relationship that, because of his atheism and her entering the Catholic Church, she realized she must end.

One thing needful in our confused time, it has long seemed to me, is a lively polemic in favour of the Catholic faith. Thanks to Michael Coren we have one in his new book Why Catholics are Right.

It is sure to confound and infuriate enemies of the Church while delighting and instructing Catholics who take the time to read and learn from it. Even the title is provocative; today’s ecumenist likes to gather around the campfire interspersing choruses of “Kumbayah” with choruses in praise of other denominations, even other religions, and here comes brash Coren suggesting that Catholics have got Christianity right and all others are (to a greater or lesser degree) wrong. Well, who does he think he is making such triumphalist assertions?

In our local paper a retired United Church minister was apocalyptic while unfavourably reviewing Coren’s book; now I cannot say how Coren reacted to this review, but I have long rejoiced in any criticism emanating from the United Church of Canada, which I consider the pons asinorum of contemporary churchmanship.