A (semi-autobiographical? story about aspiring Jesuits and their struggles with faith and feelings

John L'Heureux's story in the current New Yorker, The Long Black Line, tells of a class of young men entering a Jesuit order in the mid 1950s (he calls the group of men "postulants" - I think they don't become novices until after an initial period of a year?), a story that appears to be if not autobiographical at least based on JL'H's experience (a note after the story invites readers to go online and listen to HL'H discuss his time in a Jesuit order). Several of them en, including the protagonist, drop out of the program before entering the order; one, who a novice assigned to leading the group of initiates, washes out of the order in a tragic manner. At least two of the Jesuits suffer post-war trauma (WWII and Korea), a different time from now for sure. The is interesting to read not so much for its literary qualities, although it is well written, clear, not self-consciously stylish (JL'H had a long career as a writing prof at Stanford), as for its account of a world little know to most outsiders: the rigorous schedule, the assigned work some of it pointless and tedious, the lengthy periods of silence, the obliteration of feelings and desires, the cruel hierarchy not all that different from boot camp - and also the sly and surprising ways in which the young men defy the system, in particular the vulgar language when on work duty outside of the main building (where silence is enforced) and the frank if awkward sexual advances (and rebuffs). I almost wish JL'H had written a memoir rather than a story - although of course I recognize that the factual details may be elusive to him some 60+ years after the events. But the (suppressed?) feelings endure - at least until they're given new life in fiction.