Q&A: Mirabai Starr
By Graham Christian -- Library Journal, 1/15/2007
LJ recently had an opportunity to speak with Mirabai Starr (religion, Univ. of New Mexico, Taos), translator of a new version of the autobiography of the Spanish saint Teresa of Avila, Teresa of Avila: The Book of My Life (see review, p. 85). Starr's interest in the great mystic is part of the growing trend toward cross-denominational and even cross-faith investigation of the roots of religious practice and spiritual living.
How did you discover Teresa of Avila? What exactly attracted you to her and to this project?
I was drawn to Teresa against my will. I was in love with her protegé, John of the Cross, whom I considered to be the Rumi of Spain. As I worked on a new translation of his Dark Night of the Soul, John gently led me into a deeper appreciation of his beloved mentor, Teresa. Dark Night of The Soul came out the day my teenaged daughter was killed in a car accident. Translating The Interior Castle during that subsequent year saved my life. Teresa was so much more than I had imagined. Her deep compassion for the suffering of humanity, grounded in her own experience of physical pain and emotional anguish, combined with a warm sense of humor and earthy practicality, made her accessible, comforting, and inspiring. I couldn't wait to take on her autobiography after that.
You have met with some adverse criticism for reinterpreting some theologically freighted words in earlier translations for modern audiences. Have you felt a need to make similar alterations in the Life?
I do search for more inclusive language. For instance, instead of the word sin, I use the original Hebrew translation, missing the mark or error. In place of a personified devil, I use the spirit of evil. Mainstream critical reviews have been uniformly positive. Many Catholics have expressed gratitude that I have made their own saints more available to them by making their teachings more flowing and accessible. Nonreligious readers seem to appreciate the perennial wisdom Teresa and John have to offer, a wisdom as relevant and useful today as it was five centuries ago. Criticisms of the work tended to come from strict Christians who would prefer the familiar and more orthodox religious terminology. These objections only serve to reinforce my sense that I am reaching a broader audience than the traditional readership already familiar with these great saints.
For a woman who claimed to have very little ambition for herself, Teresa has enjoyed a remarkable posthumous fame. What does she mean to non-Catholic Christians and even to non-Christians?
There is something universally appealing about Teresa of Avila. I can think of no other saint of the Catholic Church, except for Francis of Assisi, who so easily transcends the boundaries of institutionalized religion and reaches directly into the heart of the human experience. She not only offers potent teachings on spiritual growth, but also practical advice on navigating the treacherous waters of human relationships. Her love of God is so passionate and poetic, one does not even need to be a believer in God to appreciate Teresa's stunning intimacy with her invisible Beloved.




















