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3.89 AVERAGE
3.89 AVERAGE
"He was a bad priest, he knew it. They had a word for his kind -- a whisky priest, but every failure dropped out of sight and mind: somewhere they accumulated in secret -- the rubble of his failures. One day they would choke up, he supposed, altogether the source of grace. Until then he carried on, with spells of fear, weariness, with a shamefaced lightness of heart" (60).
At this moment, this is enough to say about the book. Also, I will add that it is on my all-time favorite list.
At this moment, this is enough to say about the book. Also, I will add that it is on my all-time favorite list.
The Power and the Glory has similar themes to Brighton Rock: redemption, purity, the relationship of sex and violence, necessary pain versus sadism, Catholicism versus secular humanism, sainthood versus religious fanaticism, faith versus practicality. But unlike Brighton Rock it affirms religion, bringing Biblical stories into the sharp relief of modernity. It may seem strange that in the past twenty years the Catholic church has beatified people who lived in the 20th Century, but the Cristero War created martyrs and saints in the true Biblical senses of the words. What's especially impressive about this novel is that it serves as such an affirmation of religion without shying away from its fundamental problems (faith despite life's violence and apparent randomness, corruption and abuse of power in the Church, the relevance of religion and especially saints to the modern world), and that it equally affirms secular morality, again whilst facing the insoluble questions that it raises -- what happens after worldly problems like hunger and inequality are solved? If there is no God, is not everything permitted? What makes life worth living in a brutal and random world?
Of course it never attempts anything so crass as definitive answers to these questions, but as great literature it foregrounds them and forces one to consider them. Greene engages the most fundamental issues of humanity in the 20th century not in the more obvious setting of war-torn Europe, but via an unlikely relic of a bygone era, in a strange land -- a priest facing religious persecution in Mexico. Although the violence is not extreme, the frequent allusions to trench warfare hearken back to the Great War and foreshadow the second World War which was already underway by the time his novel was published. Greene is perhaps a bit younger than the generation for whom Lawrence wrote that "All the great words [...] were cancelled [...] love, joy, happiness, home, mother, father, husband, all these great, dynamic words were half dead now, and dying from day to day", but he surely belongs to their era. That he was able to write such a powerfully noble work in a world bereft of such sentiments, then, is nothing short of miraculous.
Of course it never attempts anything so crass as definitive answers to these questions, but as great literature it foregrounds them and forces one to consider them. Greene engages the most fundamental issues of humanity in the 20th century not in the more obvious setting of war-torn Europe, but via an unlikely relic of a bygone era, in a strange land -- a priest facing religious persecution in Mexico. Although the violence is not extreme, the frequent allusions to trench warfare hearken back to the Great War and foreshadow the second World War which was already underway by the time his novel was published. Greene is perhaps a bit younger than the generation for whom Lawrence wrote that "All the great words [...] were cancelled [...] love, joy, happiness, home, mother, father, husband, all these great, dynamic words were half dead now, and dying from day to day", but he surely belongs to their era. That he was able to write such a powerfully noble work in a world bereft of such sentiments, then, is nothing short of miraculous.
This book offers such a compassionate and complicated way of looking at the Catholic church in Mexico.
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
"He couldn't say to himself that he wished his sin had never existed, because the sin seemed to him now so unimportant and he loved the fruit of it."
My third Greene book in a row and this took me the longest of the three to read not because I wasn't enjoying it, but because of its intensity and palpable tension.
A priest, a so-called whisky priest, is on the run after authorities in regions of Mexico are on a mission to vanquish Catholicism. Priests can either renounce their faith and prove this by getting married or they can be die by firing squad.
Our unnamed priest travels long and hard, motivated not only by his desire to avoid death, but also by his sense of duty as a priest. By the rules of his own faith he is a sinner and he alternately feels guilt for his sins and tries to justify them. One moment he seems to to truly exhibit a sense of compassion for people, then in another he seems to act only with self-interest, arrogant with his sense of importance.
The priest's relationship to his own religion is complicated. At a later point in the book he recognizes that as a young priest, long before having to go on the run, life may have very easy for him, but he didn't really feel love for anyone. After his sinning, his corruption, after his experiences fleeing for his life...maybe he has learned what love really feels like.
Greene is quite ambiguous about religion here, neither fully condemning nor fully defending the priest's Catholicism. He is equally ambiguous about the authorities' alternate plan for a totally irreligious society. This ambiguity is a big part of what makes this novel so compelling. This story is filled with suspense, and Greene maintains the tension of this well, but it is also a novel about belief, intention, and, yes, power and glory.
One of the many fascinating aspects of this book is the recurrence of some secondary characters, people the priest has brief encounters with who reappear, again briefly, towards the end. Their small parts are actually rather haunting and I find myself thinking about them as much as the priest.
A masterful work, gripping and incredibly vivid, a thoughtful examination of both the corporeal and the spiritual.
emotional
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Complicated
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
favorite quotes
“when you visualized a man or woman carefully, you could always begin to feel pity. that was a quality God’s image carried with it: when you saw the lines of the corners of the eyes, the shape of the mouth, how the hair grew, it was impossible to hate. hate was just a failure of imagination.” and “God might forgive cowardice and passion, but was it possible to forgive the habit of piety?”
Best Catholic anything I’ve ever read, great themes of morality and virtue, also wonderfully written in terms of prose style
3.5. Definitely a good book, but I think I did it a disservice by reading it laying in bed for the most part. I kept falling asleep and reading parts in a hypnagogic state. I started reading it while not laying down and it was a more enjoyable read, although I'd hesitate to use that word to describe this book. Insightful is probably a better descriptor. Also: that priest had some deep guilt.
Update — 15 January 2016:
Right now I'm reading [b: The Heart of the Matter|7114761|Heart of the Matter|Emily Giffin|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1441249140s/7114761.jpg|10424899], which I'm a bit more attentive to thank this one, but more on that when I finish. Anyway, I think that the title of this book is very significant and almost signifies Greene's approach to Catholicism. Some may not know, but the Lord's Prayer has a few different versions: Catholics (at least English-speaking ones) often say "trespasses" instead of "debts", and the Anglican church that uses the Book of Common Prayer adds at the end a doxology, "for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory / for ever and ever, / Amen." The fact that Greene took the title for his Catholic-themed novel from the BCP, I think, shows his relatively flexible approach to religion, which is reflected in his portrayal of guilt over sin and implication of forgiveness.
Update — 15 January 2016:
Right now I'm reading [b: The Heart of the Matter|7114761|Heart of the Matter|Emily Giffin|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1441249140s/7114761.jpg|10424899], which I'm a bit more attentive to thank this one, but more on that when I finish. Anyway, I think that the title of this book is very significant and almost signifies Greene's approach to Catholicism. Some may not know, but the Lord's Prayer has a few different versions: Catholics (at least English-speaking ones) often say "trespasses" instead of "debts", and the Anglican church that uses the Book of Common Prayer adds at the end a doxology, "for thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory / for ever and ever, / Amen." The fact that Greene took the title for his Catholic-themed novel from the BCP, I think, shows his relatively flexible approach to religion, which is reflected in his portrayal of guilt over sin and implication of forgiveness.
This is, arguably, the better Graham Greene book, especially when compared to The Heart of the Matter (you will not see a review of that book on this blog any time soon, I’m afraid). It feels like a complete story with a character that, while morally grey, you actually grow to love toward the end, and a historical context that blows my mind when I think about it.
The title, I realize now as I am older, is a direct reference to the Protestant ending to the Our Father – “For thine is thy kingdom, the power and the glory, Amen.” Us Catholics don’t end the prayer there, but rather right before it. Just a little titbit, fun fact for all of you who didn’t know that. The title alone should clue you in to the fact that this book is all about religion. And it’s not about religion in the phoney way that The Heart of the Matter is, where it talks about sin in a very surface level way. It’s about religion in a real, raw way that makes you think about things a little bit.
The book takes place in Mexico, during a time when it was practically illegal to be a Catholic priest. If you wanted to be a priest, you either got married and therefore gave up one of the vows you took, or you were executed. The main character of the story, who is unnamed but goes by the Whiskey Priest, is a priest who would rather try to run away and face being caught and executed than giving everything up. In the process, he encounters many things that make him face the consequences of his past actions, and his faith in God.
What I love about this book is that the priest is not a perfect man. If anything, massive spoiler alert, he’s actually a pretty terrible priest when it comes to keeping to his vows. But the most important thing about him is that he is truly a man of God, who believes in God and believes in His message and really wants to try to make the world a better place by administering the sacraments – confession, communion, last rites. He wants to look after his flock as best as he can, but he doesn’t like to think of himself as a martyr. I think that that last part is also very important, because had he gone around thinking of himself as a martyr, he would have been less likable. But he admits that he’s just a man who is trying to make sense of things and trying to keep the promise that he made to God to be his Messenger.
What I really like about this book, as is probably very clear at this point, is the fact that it not only steeps the story in historical context – something that really happened and that was a terrible time for those who had to endure it – but the character is so real. I can almost believe that I’ve met a priest like him, somebody who acknowledges that he isn’t perfect and that he isn’t a reincarnation of God, but he is just there to try and do good by his god. And while this particular priest is an alcoholic who has made some mistakes and missteps in the past, he is a real man who you feel sympathy for in the end.
And what we all want sometimes from our stories are very real characters.
All in all, I give this book a 4/5. It’s a wonderful read, and I do recommend it to anybody looking to read something historical and religious.
The title, I realize now as I am older, is a direct reference to the Protestant ending to the Our Father – “For thine is thy kingdom, the power and the glory, Amen.” Us Catholics don’t end the prayer there, but rather right before it. Just a little titbit, fun fact for all of you who didn’t know that. The title alone should clue you in to the fact that this book is all about religion. And it’s not about religion in the phoney way that The Heart of the Matter is, where it talks about sin in a very surface level way. It’s about religion in a real, raw way that makes you think about things a little bit.
The book takes place in Mexico, during a time when it was practically illegal to be a Catholic priest. If you wanted to be a priest, you either got married and therefore gave up one of the vows you took, or you were executed. The main character of the story, who is unnamed but goes by the Whiskey Priest, is a priest who would rather try to run away and face being caught and executed than giving everything up. In the process, he encounters many things that make him face the consequences of his past actions, and his faith in God.
What I love about this book is that the priest is not a perfect man. If anything, massive spoiler alert, he’s actually a pretty terrible priest when it comes to keeping to his vows. But the most important thing about him is that he is truly a man of God, who believes in God and believes in His message and really wants to try to make the world a better place by administering the sacraments – confession, communion, last rites. He wants to look after his flock as best as he can, but he doesn’t like to think of himself as a martyr. I think that that last part is also very important, because had he gone around thinking of himself as a martyr, he would have been less likable. But he admits that he’s just a man who is trying to make sense of things and trying to keep the promise that he made to God to be his Messenger.
What I really like about this book, as is probably very clear at this point, is the fact that it not only steeps the story in historical context – something that really happened and that was a terrible time for those who had to endure it – but the character is so real. I can almost believe that I’ve met a priest like him, somebody who acknowledges that he isn’t perfect and that he isn’t a reincarnation of God, but he is just there to try and do good by his god. And while this particular priest is an alcoholic who has made some mistakes and missteps in the past, he is a real man who you feel sympathy for in the end.
And what we all want sometimes from our stories are very real characters.
All in all, I give this book a 4/5. It’s a wonderful read, and I do recommend it to anybody looking to read something historical and religious.