The Life of Saint Teresa of Avila by Herself (Penguin Classics)

If the idea of mysticism seems hopelessly otherworldly to you, try a taste of St. Teresa, who can be as down to earth as Oprah--and sometimes just as amusing. --Doug Thorpe

Product Description
Born in the Castilian town of vila in 1515, Teresa entered the Carmelite convent of the Incarnation when she was twenty-one. Tormented by illness, doubts and self-recrimination, she gradually came to recognize the power of prayer and contemplation - her spiritual enlightenment was intensified by many visions and mystical experiences, including the piercing of her heart by a spear of divine love. She went on to found seventeen Carmelite monasteries throughout Spain. Teresa always denied her own saintliness, however, saying in a letter: 'There is no suggestion of that nonsense about my supposed sanctity'. This frank account is one of the great stories of a religious life and a literary masterpiece - after "Don Quixote", it is Spain's most widely read prose classic.

Teresa's writing style was a mixture of the style of the time (full of disclaimers and self-deprecation) and the romantic language of the books of chivalry she loved as a child (she referred to God as "His Majesty", and used images such as castles and jewels). The result, flowing from her pen in an often (I should say usually) disorganized fashion, is fresh and touching. I particularly enjoyed her description of the soul as a garden: the Lord plants it, but we are to cultivate it in order that our Lord may take His delight in walking in it. She describes prayer as the water that nourishes that garden: first through great labor drawn from a well, but later as a free gift from God showering down from heaven. Her more developed description, covering four stages of prayer, is remarkable. HOWEVER, this does not make it the best starting place for beginners who want to learn how to approach contemplative prayer (they might do better with Brother Lawrence, Thomas Keating, or some of Thomas Merton's work).

I respect this translator, who included an excellent description on the decision-making process used in producing the translation, along with many footnotes referring to alternate interpretations and original Spanish text for concepts difficult to translate.

A personal quirk of mine which should influence no one (but I have to say it) -- I hated the cover art. While it communicates Teresa's vivacious personality, it is frankly ugly, and all who knew Teresa agreed that she was in fact physically beautiful. I know we shouldn't judge by physical appearance, but if God gives someone the gift of physical beauty why portray them as ugly? Again, my personal quirk meaning nothing.

Approach this read less as an educational experience and more as an opportunity to draw inspiration, hope and solace from the heart of Teresa: a woman who, weak and human as we all are, allowed God to transform her because of her hunger for communion with Him.


The Ecstasy of St. Teresa   May 1, 2006
Gord Wilson (Bellingham, WA USA)
30 out of 32 found this review helpful

I've always marvelled at Bernini's statue, Ecstasy of St. Teresa, which seems to precede art deco by centuries. Since this Penguin edition shows it on the cover, I was naturally drawn to this book. Having cracked the cover, however, I couldn't put it down; it's gripping, amusing and eminently readable--everything we know so-called devotional literature is not.

Post-moderns will find in this sixteenth century nun a like-minded comrade, as unlikely as that may seem. We, or at least, I could relate far more to her failures than successes, and there's an almost slapstick, which is to say light-heartedness running through these memoirs that has more in common with I Love Lucy than sentimental religious literature. The best known incident is when a horse threw her and she landed in a mud puddle. She looked up to heaven and said, "if that's the way you treat your friends, no wonder you have so few of them."

If that doesn't make you want to read this book, what would? Completely against the tenet of modernism that everything is always progressing and "every day in every way we're getting better and better," here's a kindred soul from the sixteenth century who many readers will instantly relate to. Another way to view this book is as an exercise in journaling, which many people find more difficult than it sounds. Teresa was ordered to write her memoirs, not unlike students in an English class who find it so difficult to think of anything to write about.

This book may not be to everyone's taste. But I would recommend it to readers who, like myself, are absolutely allergic to sentimental and devotional literature. I found it delightfully different and would group it with the few "classics" in this genre I have enjoyed, including Pascal's Pensees, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress and St. Augustine's Confessions.