Saturday, August 06, 2005

Dead literature

I became aware many years ago of a novel titled Death Comes for the Archbishop. Somehow, I got the impression that it was some kind of murder mystery, probably English, with an elderly Anglican or Roman Catholic minister meeting death in a mysterious and probably violent fashion. Country manors, sherry at twilight, vast cathedrals, all of that. Sounded musty and interesting only to those who prefer Agatha Christie.

I was wrong in every respect but one: it's a novel.

Specifically, it's a novel about a man and his companion, both French priests, who have come to the mostly-untamed portions of the American West to establish their faith, and to minister to those of that faith who are already resident there. They have successes and failures. They affect people and are affected by them. Death does eventually come for the Archbishop, as it does for everyone, as part of their life.

A satisfying book.

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