May 11, 1995 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD — Extensions of Remarks E 999

DR. CHARLES A. BRADY, A MULTITALENTED MAN

HON. JOHN J. LaFALCE OF NEW YORK

IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES

Wednesday, May 10, 1995

Mr. LAFALCE. Mr. Speaker, western New

Yorkers and the Canisius College community

in Buffalo this weekend mourned the passing

of Dr. Charles A. Brady, former head of the

college’s English Department author and literary critic for the Buffalo News for more than

half a century.

Dr. Brady was an extremely talented,

multifaceted person, as evidenced by the Buffalo News’ obituary, which described him as:

‘‘A professor, poet, novelist, critic and

caricaturist * * *.’’

In addition to his voluminous literary creations, Dr. Brady will also be remembered

fondly by the many generations of Canisius’

alumni, like me, who were taught and influenced by him.

Following are his obituary which appeared

in the Buffalo News, and an insightful article

by Jeff Simon, the News’ book editor, which

appeared in the paper May 9 and headlined:

‘‘A Man of Letters, but Even More, a Man of

Life.’’

CHARLES A. BRADY DIES; CANISIUS PROF.,

AUTHOR, LITERARY CRITIC FOR NEWS WAS 83

Charles A. Brady, former head of the English Department at Canisius College, author

and literary critic for The Buffalo News for

five decades, died Friday (May 5, 1995) in Sisters Hospital, following a long illness.

A professor, poet, novelist, critic and caricaturist, Brady had used both pen and wit to

illuminate even the darkest recesses of literature for three generations of Western New

Yorkers. He was 83.

Brady, who was born April 15, 1912, often

pointed out that he was born ‘‘the day, the

hour and the moment that the Titantic

sank.’’

It was that coincidence, he said, that gave

him his ‘‘bent for epic things.’’

For more than 50 years, Brady served as an

intellectual beacon to students and residents

of the Buffalo area and beyond, contributing

to and interpreting the literary scene both

here and abroad.

A man of enormous enthusiasm and dauntless energy, Brady since childhood defied a

serious heart condition and pursued an active life, often from his bedside at home, or

in the hospital.

Bardy wrote four novels. One of them,

‘‘Stage of Fools: A Novel of Sir Thomas

More,’’ outsold any book published by E. P.

Dutton in 1953. It was translated into Dutch

and Spanish and printed in paperback as well

as hard cover.

In 1968, the Poetry Society of America

gave first prize to Brady’s ‘‘Keeper of the

Western Gate’’ and, in 1970, its Cecil Hemley

Memorial Award for the best poem on a philosophical theme, ‘‘Ecce Homo Ludens.’’

C.S. Lewis, the eminent British author,

once called Brady’s critique of his work the

best published in Great Britain and the United States.

Brady’s literary output was voluminous—

from novels, short stories, poems, children’s

stories, holiday ‘‘fantasies,’’ to critical essays and book reviews. Throughout his work

ran the deep vein of history.

Son of Andrew J. Brady Sr., a former lumberman who owned freighters on the Great

Lakes, and Belinda Dowd of Black Rock,

Brady’s commitment to literature began at

Canisius College, which he attended after

graduating from Canisius High School in

1929. He received his bachelor of arts degree

from Canisius in 1933.

During those years, he also played championship tennis and, in the spring of 1987, was

named to the Canisius College All Sports

Hall of Fame for his undergraduate tennis

prowess.

He received a master of arts degree in English from Harvard University and then returned to Canisius at age 23 as an associate

professor of English.

A year later, he was promoted to professor

and chairman of the English Department, a

position he held until 1959, when he continued his professorship until retirement in

1977.

In his more than 40 years at the college, he

touched and helped mold the tastes and lives

of thousands of students and graduate students, many from other colleges or universities, who also attended his courses or

sought his counsel.

The AZUWUR, the Canisius College yearbook, was dedicated to Brady in 1956 and

again in 1976.

From 1938 to 1941, Brady directed Canisius

College’s graduate division, and during

World War II, in addition to his English

classes, he taught the classics, French, military geography and Renaissance history.

Academically, Brady probably was best

known for his lectures and critical studies of

Cooper, Marquand, Sigrid Undset, Charles

Williams, the Volsunga Saga, John Le Carre

and C.S. Lewis. His studies on J.R.R. Tolkien

and, more especially, Lewis, have been cited

as ‘‘definitive in this country.’’

Copies of Lewis’ original letters to Brady,

embracing a correspondence that the British

author initiated and that continued over a

number of years, are in the Bodleian Library

at Oxford University.

In addition to ‘‘Stage of Fools,’’ Brady’s

works include ‘‘Viking Summer,’’ which

combined Norse legend with a present-day

Niagara Frontier setting; ‘‘This Land Fulfilled’’ and ‘‘Crown of Grass,’’ both historical

novels; ‘‘Wings Over Patmos,’’ a book of

verse; and ‘‘A Catholic Reader,’’ a personalized anthology.

For children, he wrote ‘‘Cat Royal,’’ ‘‘The

Elephant Who Wanted to Pray,’’ ‘‘The

Church Mouse of St. Nicholas’’ and ‘‘Sir

Thomas More of London Town.’’ For older

children, he wrote ‘‘Sword of Clontart’’ and

‘‘The King’s Thane.’’

A short story, ‘‘The Foot That Went Too

Far,’’ which he had written as an undergraduate, was the origin of the griffin as the

Canisius College mascot.

The capstone of his career at Canisius was

writing the college’s centenary history,

‘‘Canisius College: The First Hundred

Years.’’ Written over almost five years, the

book, unlike most school histories, was done

in an impressionistic style, capturing the

spirit of the college as well as that of the Niagara Frontier.

Brady wrote for national and international

journals, and reviewed books for other major

publications, such as The New York Times,

the old Herald Tribune, America, Commonweal and the Catholic World.

A man of many talents, including some

musical composition, Brady enjoyed drawing

line caricatures of authors, many of which

were used to illustrate his critical essays and

book reviews for The News. His last book review and drawing for The News was printed

March 12.

In September 1986, the Burchfield Center at

Buffalo State College exhibited his literary

caricatures in a one-man show.

A familiar figure on the lecture platform,

Brady held the Candlemas Lectureship at

Boston College and gave Notre Dame’s Summer Lectures in the humanities.

The News named him ‘‘an outstanding citizen’’ in 1970.

He was the recipient of the Canisius College LaSalle Medal, the highest honor awarded to an alumnus. In 1970, the Canisius Alumni Association presented him with its Peter

Canisius Medal for his ‘‘scholarly brilliance

and teaching excellence that inspired and informed legions of Canisius students.’’

A longtime resident of the Town of Tonawanda, he moved to Buffalo’s Delaware District in the early 1990s.

Brady is survived by his wife of 57 years,

the former Mary Eileen Larson; four daughters, Karen Brady Borland and Moira Brady

Roberts, both of Buffalo, Sheila Brady Nair

of New Bethlehem, Pa., and Kristin M. of

London, Ont.; two sons, Erik L. of Arlington,

Va., and Kevin C. of Buffalo and 17 grandchildren.

Prayers at 11 a.m. Monday in the George J.

Roberts & Sons Funeral Home, 2400 Main St.,

will precede a Mass of Christian Burial at

11:30 a.m. in Christ the King Chapel at

Canisius College, 2001 Main St. Burial will be

in Mount Olivet Cemetery in the Town of

Tonawanda.

A MAN OF LETTERS, BUT EVEN MORE, A MAN

OF LIFE

Charles Brady died on Friday afternoon at

age 83. His loss to The News’ book pages is

virtually incalculable. If it isn’t precisely accurate to say that Charles A. Brady invented

literary reviewing at The Buffalo News, it’s

certainly close enough to the truth to pass.

He was a treasured literary voice here in five

separate decades.

I’ve been The News’ book editor for six

years and was the book assignment editor

for six years before that. Editing Dr. Brady

and finding books that I knew would stimulate him provided the job’s greatest pleasures.

His latest work would appear in my mail

every Friday or Monday morning. Inside the

envelope—impeccably typed on soft, oldfashioned, khaki-colored copy paper—would

be three pages of crystalline prose. Accompanying it, on white paper, would be one of

his pen-and-ink caricatures. Even on busy

Mondays, I would try to save editing Dr.

Brady for the last work of the day—an Edwardian reward of wit, wisdom and uncommon grace for dealing with all the coarse,

witless drudgery that almost all work requires, journalism included.

At least half the time, there would be a

word or spelling in it that I’d never encountered before—some strange semantic hippogriff that Dr. Brady had captured in his library and uncaged for the delight and enchantment of company.

Typically, I’d walk over to our glorious

battery of dictionaries in a state of bafflement or skepticism: Surely, this time, it’s a

misspelling. And then the huge Random

House Dictionary, American Heritage Dictionary and Oxford English Dictionary would

set me straight—Dr. Brady’s was very much

a word, even if its usage or spelling were Victorian or Elizabethan.

It’s a walk I’ll never make again; it’s a

smile of marvel and appreciation I won’t be

smiling anymore.

Every day that goes by brings at least one

book that I would automatically send to Dr.

Brady in total confidence that it would elicit

a smile of complicity on the other end of our

discourse-by-mail-and-phone.

No discussion was necessary to pick out

‘‘Brady books.’’ I have been reading him

since my early teens. I knew what he liked

or, failing that, what interested him. That

was vastly more than the epics or Celtic
E 1000 CONGRESSIONAL RECORD — Extensions of Remarks May 11, 1995

myths or Irish literature or work of C.S.

Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkien and their fellow Oxford Inklings that people thought of as his

special province. It encompassed virtually

the whole of English literature, early American literature (James Fenimore Cooper was

a Brady specialty; minor Twain was a Brady

weakness), all American fictional modernism

and, late in life, Yiddish and Jewish literature, for which he developed an entirely

unpredictable fondness.

We disagreed strongly on some writers, but

he was the sort of man with whom disagreement was one of the friendliest experiences

you could have. If he never quite subscribed

to all the hoo-ha about Jorge Luis Borges

from me and others, he would, with impish

geniality, point out how much he liked Anthony Burgess, and what was the name

Borges, after all, but the Spanish version of

Burgess?

It’s also true, I think, that he was doing

some of the best journalistic work of his life

in his final decade. In the place of earlier reviews that could sometimes be constricted

by myth (it’s tempting to call such prose

‘‘myth-begotten’’ and hope he’d approve), his

work in the past decade was informed by

marvelous wit, total scholarship and a glorious new clarity. I could delude myself into

thinking that our unspoken communication

had something to do with it, but I know it’s

not the case.

I think what his readers read in the past

decade was the work of a man who, besides

being loved at home, had finally thrown off

all the vestiges of professorial presentation.

To be as great a teacher as so many generations of Canisius College students say that

Charles Brady was requires a certain theatricality—a well-communicated sense of literary passion and identification, an exaggerated self-definition.

You can’t just commune with the avid

young scholars in the front row. If you have

any honor at all, you have to communicate

something to the deadheads in the cheap

seats. Even if they don’t understand a word

you’re saying, you have to give them some

sense of the bardic and of the glory of a life

spent in literature.

It made some of this ’70s and early ’80s

journalism operatic in its mythology, I

think. In his final decade’s work, he had

stopped composing operatic arias and started

composing magnificent chamber music. It is

then, I think, that we heard his truest

voice—just as passionate as the Yeatsian visionary his students knew, but wittier, more

Edwardian and seemingly effortless.

Wonderfully apropos quotes from the

Alexandrian library inside his head would

find their way into his work, but so would

the damnedest, spot-on references to the society around him.

Anyone who thought that he resided in a

1940s Oxford of his own devising would be disabused of that notion on encountering an upto-the-minute and unfalsified Brady take on

academic gender wars or a perfectly appropriate reference to gangsta rap. (I must confess, the day I first encountered the phrase

‘‘gangsta rap’’ in a review by the 82-year-old

Brady, I threw my head back and roared with

pleasure.)

He was, in that great Henry James phrase,

a thoroughly independent and aware man

‘‘on whom nothing was lost.’’

I remember seeing Dr. Brady on an old ’50s

Buffalo television show called ‘‘The University of Buffalo Roundtable.’’ The subject of

Beat poetry came up. The acceptable cant

from the Professoriat of the ’50s—and certainly from those on that show—was that

the Beats were, to a man, hairy and filthy

overhyped pretenders. Brady listened patiently to it all and said, ‘‘I don’t know, I

haven’t read all of them, but I’ve read some

(Lawrence) Ferlinghetti and I think he’s

pretty good.’’

Lest one think that his tower was totally

ivory, he was also, without fail, the most

journalistically current book reviewer we

had—right to the end. It never ceased to

amaze me that an old valiant man in failing

health was, without question, our greatest

sprinter. His reviews of major books would

continually precede and presage major treatment in the New York Times and the newsmagazines, often by several weeks. In such

matters, his instincts were impeccable.

When longtime readers lose a voice like

Charles Brady’s it is always a personal loss,

even for those who never knew him. But at

the end of his life, I think, he was teaching

us all some life lessons that were infinitely

greater than he ever taught in the classroom—that the life of the mind can not only

survive intact to the very hour of our death,

but can, until the moment one is visited by

what James called ‘‘that distinguished

thing,’’ actually increase in acuity, understanding and grace.

The world is full of people whom Charles A.

Brady taught how to read and write and

think.

At the end of his life and bedeviled by illness, he taught us something even richer—

how to be.

COAST GUARD AUTHORIZATION

ACT FOR FISCAL YEAR 1996

f

SPEECH OF

HON. NANCY PELOSI

OF CALIFORNIA

IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES

Tuesday, May 9, 1995

The House in Committee of the Whole

House on the State of the Union had under

consideration the bill (H.R. 1361) to authorize

appropriations for fiscal year 1996 for the

Coast Guard, and for other purposes:

Ms. PELOSI. Mr. Chairman, I rise today to

offer my support for H.R. 1361, the Coast

Guard Authorization Act of 1996.

Since 1915, the Coast Guard has played a

critical role in the protection of life and property on the high seas and in the enforcement

of all applicable federal laws on, over, and

under our oceans. The Coast Guard has

maintained coastal navigation aids, engaged

in icebreaking activities and has protected our

fragile environment. The Coast Guard is also

responsible for the safety and security of vessels, ports, waterways, and their related facilities.

Mr. Speaker, in addition to these maritime

safety responsibilities, the Coast Guard also

performs drug interdiction for the entire U.S.

coastline, responds to all coastal oil spills, protects U.S. fisheries, and responds to human

migration crises.

H.R. 1361, which reflects a slight increase

over this year’s funding level, recognizes the

enormous responsibilities performed by the

men and women of the Coast Guard every

day and it deserves our bipartisan support. I

urge all of my colleagues to support this legislation.

SUPERIOR PERFORMANCE BY

SPRINGFIELD, VIRGINIA’S LEE

HIGH SCHOOL CHOIRS

HON. HENRY J. HYDE

OF ILLINOIS

IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES

Wednesday, May 10, 1995

Mr. HYDE. Mr. Speaker, once again a magnificent performance by the Lee High School

Madrigal Singers and Ladies’ Chamber Choir

earned them ‘‘Superior’’ marks in the April 22

Boston Festivals of Music Competition.

Schools from the United States and Canada

were competing for the honor of being judged

‘‘Superior’’ by receiving the highest numerical

score in each category of competition within

their division.

In addition to capturing the ‘‘Superior’’ title

within their division, the Madrigal Singers were

awarded the ‘‘Grand Champion’’ trophy for receiving the highest scores of all choirs competing in the 1995 ‘‘Boston Festival.’’ Five

scholarships to a choral summer camp were

presented to the group.

The Singing Lancers, five separate choirs in

all, are a terrific group of teens with many

proud accomplishments. The choral program

is directed by Mr. Lindsey Florence who has

been with Lee since 1978 and directed numerous choirs whose efforts have resulted in

award-winning performances in North America.

This special group of young vocalists love to

touch the world with their songs, and that is

exactly what they did yesterday. The five

choirs entertained the young patients at Children’s Hospital where they brought some of

the children’s favorite songs to life in a program they choreographed themselves. Selected choirs have performed at the White

House, Drug Enforcement Administration, Virginia Music Educators Conference, and numerous civic organizations. I am very pleased

to recognize the Singing Lancers and the positive image they project to their community.

I want to once again offer my personal congratulations to Mr. Florence, an exceptional

music teacher, and to the following young men

and women who experienced the rewards of

their hard work the night they were chosen

‘‘Superior.’’ Members of the Madrigal Singers

are: Pam Albanese, Gretchen Arndt, Andy

Barrett, Steph Daniels, Alisa Ersoz, Craig

Goheen, Steph Hawk, Heidi Hisler, Jen Holder, Matt Horner, Cathy Javier-Wong, Robbie

Johanson, Emily Mace, Tanya Moore, Scott

Niehoff, Ty Oxley, Corey and John Perrine,

Joe Steiner, and Becky Whittler. The members

of the Ladies’ Chamber Choir are: Beth

Brown, Alison Cherryholmes, Rebecca Dosch,

Randa Eid, Stephanie Evans, Katie Farrell,

Kelly Good, Emily Henrich, Nadiyah Howard,

Amy Huntington, Mary Kim, Christina Lewis,

Jenn Montgomery, Sara Nahrwold, Nicole

Orton, Courtney Parish, Jenny Platt, Laura

Scheip, Damara Thompson, Nhien To, and

Marika Tsanganelias. My very best wishes to

this very special group of teens.