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A review by tiborius
The Visitation by Frank E. Peretti
1.0
"You are not Jesus Christ!" Nichols gazed down at the woman weeping, hugging his feet, and at the crowd of followers staring at him in awe. In a chilling, hushed voice he replied, "I am now."
I pushed myself through this out of pure spite.
This may be partly on me. Having this in my recommendations as being akin to Stephen King among others, a fast-paced pandemonious thrill fest was just what I was hungry for.
Perhaps Peretti being called "the king of the Christian fiction genre" on the back blurb should have scared me off. If not, maybe the author's introduction should have. But I persevered, I had spent good money on my second hand copy (€1), and I would get my money's worth. I still fear I've been robbed.
Peretti's Antioch, WA is a small town inhabited by stereotypes and one-dimensional characters, creative masterstrokes such as "female minister who looks like Janis Joplin, and also sounds like Janis Joplin. She also sang in a band, like Janis Joplin", "delinquent teen recognizable by a streak of green hair" and "Nam vet in camo pants owning a hardware store, Lt. Dan- uh, Matt Kiley".
This colorful cast of characters is shaken up when stereotypical Jesus(n't) arrives. Travis Jordan, burnt-out flaming pentecostal minister, is the only one who can save Antioch from this second coming.
Peretti's heavy handedness does not help his writing. Looney Tunes-tie wearing pentecostal Kyle is the only religious leader critical of the new miracle worker, immediately judging his miraculous healings as work of the devil. No real explanation is given why the pentecostals are the only ones not deceived, but I suppose it's the only logical course for Peretti.
In similar vein Catholics' belief in miraculous images is superstition played for laughs, though the reader is expected to take speaking in tongues and healing through prayer by a pentecostal minister at face value. All the while preaching "It's not my church or your church or which tradition is right or how many candles we light - it's knowing Jesus for who he is" seems more than a little disingenuous.
That's not even speaking of passages such as "We'd had our disagreements, sometimes nose to nose, mostly through her editorials and my dissenting letters to the editor, but it never got nasty. She won a few - I had to concede I only had half the story on Christopher Columbus. But I won some myself - she turned dead set against partial-birth abortion." oof, or his referring to a character as "Middle-Eastern'', not only as a description of his appearance but as his name (i.e. "x said Middle-Eastern", "Middle-Eastern did") Yikes.
Much of this I could have overlooked if Peretti hadn't committed the unforgivable sin of making a book about the coming of the Antichrist boring. The extensive flashbacks to the escapades of a young and infuriatingly naive and arrogant Travis Jordan suck all momentum out of the plot, while only serving the purpose of introducing characters and places so they can be used in the present-time, and making me wonder why I should be rooting for our protagonist.
In the end,
The pace does pick up quickly in the last 100 pages, but it's too little too late to offer any salvation. I'm not sure who this novel was written for, but it wasn't for me.
I pushed myself through this out of pure spite.
This may be partly on me. Having this in my recommendations as being akin to Stephen King among others, a fast-paced pandemonious thrill fest was just what I was hungry for.
Perhaps Peretti being called "the king of the Christian fiction genre" on the back blurb should have scared me off. If not, maybe the author's introduction should have. But I persevered, I had spent good money on my second hand copy (€1), and I would get my money's worth. I still fear I've been robbed.
Peretti's Antioch, WA is a small town inhabited by stereotypes and one-dimensional characters, creative masterstrokes such as "female minister who looks like Janis Joplin, and also sounds like Janis Joplin. She also sang in a band, like Janis Joplin", "delinquent teen recognizable by a streak of green hair" and "Nam vet in camo pants owning a hardware store, Lt. Dan- uh, Matt Kiley".
This colorful cast of characters is shaken up when stereotypical Jesus(n't) arrives. Travis Jordan, burnt-out flaming pentecostal minister, is the only one who can save Antioch from this second coming.
Peretti's heavy handedness does not help his writing. Looney Tunes-tie wearing pentecostal Kyle is the only religious leader critical of the new miracle worker, immediately judging his miraculous healings as work of the devil. No real explanation is given why the pentecostals are the only ones not deceived, but I suppose it's the only logical course for Peretti.
In similar vein Catholics' belief in miraculous images is superstition played for laughs, though the reader is expected to take speaking in tongues and healing through prayer by a pentecostal minister at face value. All the while preaching "It's not my church or your church or which tradition is right or how many candles we light - it's knowing Jesus for who he is" seems more than a little disingenuous.
That's not even speaking of passages such as "We'd had our disagreements, sometimes nose to nose, mostly through her editorials and my dissenting letters to the editor, but it never got nasty. She won a few - I had to concede I only had half the story on Christopher Columbus. But I won some myself - she turned dead set against partial-birth abortion." oof, or his referring to a character as "Middle-Eastern'', not only as a description of his appearance but as his name (i.e. "x said Middle-Eastern", "Middle-Eastern did") Yikes.
Much of this I could have overlooked if Peretti hadn't committed the unforgivable sin of making a book about the coming of the Antichrist boring. The extensive flashbacks to the escapades of a young and infuriatingly naive and arrogant Travis Jordan suck all momentum out of the plot, while only serving the purpose of introducing characters and places so they can be used in the present-time, and making me wonder why I should be rooting for our protagonist.
In the end,
Spoiler
everyone gets their just deserts, including aforementioned delinquent teen getting blown to pieces, as punishment for her sticky fingers. I suppose that's a larger sin than minister Cantwell crucifying his 15 year old rebellious son, as he and his accomplice escape any such retribution, and Cantwell is still preaching the Lord's word at the end of it.The pace does pick up quickly in the last 100 pages, but it's too little too late to offer any salvation. I'm not sure who this novel was written for, but it wasn't for me.