(in the Cerasi Chapel of the Church of Santa Maria del Popolo)
Paul lies sprawled beneath his horse,
arms opened, hands extended, upraised,
creating a cup for his spilled head.
His face is half-hidden, turned aside.
His rich red robe is crumpled under him.
His helmet has rolled off to one side.
Caravaggio knew well what the texts
tell: that Saul became Paul, regained
his sight and then began to write letters
to the world. But in this small chapel
in central Rome, he’s stopped the story
here—leaving us to fill the future in.
Classics v. Classics
The furious debate about Christopher Nolan’s Odyssey has revealed an unexpected fact: Many people take Homer seriously,…
The Summer Reading List: 2026
A 2025 YouGov poll revealed some interesting factoids about Americans’ reading habits—or lack thereof. Forty percent of…
To Live Fittingly
Why do the humanities face such a hostile climate? In part it’s because academics have excluded ordinary,…