In defence of Flannery O’Connor

I have a thought for the students of Loyola University in Baltimore, Maryland: this Easter, why not resurrect Flannery O’Connor? Why not show that you appreciate America’s greatest Catholic writer even if the poor, frightened duds in charge of you do not?

Last summer, the university’s president, the Revd Brian F. Linnane SJ, removed O’Connor’s name from its halls of residence. The New Yorker had published a pompous piece about racism in O’Connor’s private correspondence, the George Floyd protests had begun and so… best not make the students uncomfortable, said Father Linnane.

The cosmic joke of this has stayed with me ever since. It’s not just that it’s the duty of any decent university to make its students uncomfortable, or even the sad irony of a Catholic institution that can’t forgive. The joke is that the whole point of O’Connor’s work is to make people uncomfortable: that’s her genius. And anyone who can’t stomach a little discomfort has no business putting her name on a wall in the first place.