Some books are fine but somewhat heavy to read, while others are easy but shallow and unsatisfying. Usually, we are searching for stories that are at the same time compelling, substantial and easy-flowing, in terms of pace and writing. For me, these are the perfect books, for fiction is meant to be pleasant, and people tend to go back to those things they remember fondly. This novel reaches all these marks for me, and I cannot say much, for fear of not saying enough. You would think it would be a tragedy at the end, since those simple Scottish priests didn't seem to figure out entirely how the world was truly changing around them, and everything seems to be even more degenerate in our days. But there's no tragedy. It didn't matter if they committed mistakes. It didn't matter if modern people didn't understand them, or vice versa, because God's grace is what matters above all, and it doesn't measure people by their merits, vices, or ideologies. What I took is that grace can triumph over the modern world, and over the past, and the future, and everything else to come until the end times. Till there, our duties will lie where they always are: obey the Church, practice the Gospel, be kind and charitable to all, and "Christus nihil praeponere".
This is also the 75th book I've read this year, and I've never read that much fiction in a single year over my entire life. And this conquest still feels unfulfilling. Most of the things I've read left me cold. It's true you have to read the good and the bad and the "it exists" to develop taste, and you need taste if you want to be a critic or writer, or just a good reader; but I don't think I would recommend everything to everyone, since the best things worth our time are few, and the ones the common folk prefer to ignore. At the same time, you won't find gems if you don't mine through stones.
Maybe our prize is to find gems like this one and to be happy ourselves, even when others cannot understand it.