One thing that gives me great sorrow, is when a really terrific non-fiction book lacks a proper index. I actually feel offended, as a reader. It’s as if the author is taunting you: Don’t be picking and choosing bits and pieces that interest you, read the whole damn thing! Chances are I’ve already read the whole damn thing, and want to return to the stuff I found most interesting—quickly.
I can’t claim that my new book-to-be has a proper index: It has only an index of names, which I felt was my prerogative, as the author of a ‘popular’ biography, not an academic project. I compiled the index myself, and really enjoyed doing so, in the same way I enjoy my various knitting and craft projects. It’s a glorious mosaic of names, of people who, in most cases, have absolutely nothing to do with each other. But they all have some connection—however thin or tenuous–to my guy, Father Irenaeus. Here for example are some random entries—and yes, these some of the names that appear in my book. If you want to know why, then you just have to wait, and buy it when it comes out: Dante Alighieri, Jack Dempsey (yes, the boxer), Dylan Thomas, Thérèse of Lisieux, Karl Barth, Anna Pavlova, Mamie Eisenhower, Virginia O’Hanlon (the “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Clause” girl) Pierre Salinger, Art Rooney, among many, many others. But my favorite is “Amerigo Vespucci” and I’ll explain that here, because it’s obvious that Father Irenaeus and Amerigo missed each other by a couple of centuries.
Simply put, Father was born in Alsace, near the town of St. Die, where apparently Mr. Waldseemuller the cartographer printed his famous map naming our continent after Mr. Vespucci. (And yes, Mr. Waldseemuller is in my index, too) A story that didn’t make it into the book because I couldn’t put in every single thing, is when Father wrote a letter to Channel 2 News in Buffalo in the 1970s, when they were having some kind of patriotic what-America-means-to-me campaign. He crisply informed them that the patron saint of the United States should be St. Emeric, who was the son of St. Stephen, the martyred medieval king of Hungary. Why? Because Amerigo Vespucci’s actual baptismal name was Emeric. Now who else would know that? Except Father Irenaeus, at the extreme southern end of Channel 2’s viewing area.
I admit that a fair number of these names are people Father merely researched at some point, or wrote about, and was only indirectly involved with. But this is important because although he can come across as a geeky kind of history nerd, he firmly believed in the faintly revolutionary idea that education, research and study was a direct route to God. And so, there it is, one of the links that joins me, my husband, our re-enactor friends and my archivist friends: Yes, we’re all crazy, geeky history nerds, but maybe…all possibly bound for heaven!