Although Brothers Keepers takes place in a monastery and takes its title from a scriptural concept, it is not essentially religious. Rather, it uses the structure of a religious society (a small, obscure cell of monks) to pose broader questions of progress, purpose, and perhaps, “providence.” The term “perhaps” is used to suggest that the conclusion of Brothers Keepers is somewhat ambiguous and not altogether satisfactory. Yet, Brothers Keepers is more than the black comedy with which we usually associate the work of Donald E. Westlake or the noir masterpieces which he could paint with verbal ease; it is an exploration of faithfulness (more than faith) and sacrifice (albeit not consistently demonstrable throughout the work).
The story begins as a rather unimportant member of the monastery discovers that their monastery, albeit dating back 200 years (at the time of the novel’s writing, that would have predated the conclusion of the War for American Independence), is slated for sale and subsequent demolition to be replaced by a minimalist office building complex. Matters seem relatively cut and dried, but nothing in a Westlake novel is ever cut and dried. To add sizzle to the steak, the monastic setting allows Westlake to make sarcastic observations about modern society in the sense of being a comedic Thoreau. For example, he describes one section of New York as being “Babel.” The protagonist, Brother Benedict, observes: “…they spoke such a confusion of tongues we might as well have been in Baghdad or an evangelist’s tent.” (p. 51)
At other points, he observes how walking distances are subjective, depending on whether one is used to using a car or walking. The former walk less, hence those distances which seem short to the latter seem far to the former. This point is brought home all the more effectively because one of the monastery’s core beliefs was to be careful with “Travel.” So, they generally walked as much as possible with commuter trains seeming strange to Brother Benedict when he was forced to travel and his airplane trip seeming even stranger.
The airplane trip had a hilarious description of cultural disconnect: “…the Razas were under the impression they had come out for a picnic rather than a plane trip. Baskets of food, shopping bags of food, boxes of food, all blossomed into existence as though in some parody of the miracle of the loaves and the fishes.” (p. 215) The plane trip also, unfortunately, indicates an instance of bad editing. On p. 196, Brother Benedict is given a one-way ticket and $200 with which to procure his return trip, but on p. 202 he is said to have a round-trip ticket in his possession and on p. 228, he is said to have no money.
Westlake saves his best zingers for big business. At one point, he “punfully” suggests that the clamor for more and more office space is “an edifice complex” (p. 74). I particularly liked Brother Benedict’s summary of business reporting: “I soon noticed they had a tendency to use the word ‘aggressive’ to describe activity of which they approved. Another form of behavior they felt positive about was belt-tightening.” (p. 76) Benedict goes on to suggest that all U.S. businesses were doing one or the other. That way the business reporters could be positive about both styles. At another point, one of the brothers addresses the morality of business when he is told that someone has a very good business head. “’Sometimes,’ he said, ‘a business head can make us lose sight of more important values.’” (p. 59)
It goes without saying, but I’ll type it anyway, that Brother Benedict goes through something of a crisis/test of faith. From the humility present when he, initially, seems edged out of the decision-making process on resolving the monastery’s difficulties (“Not only was I unbowed by this double evidence of my own worthlessness, I actually gloried in them both.”—p. 106), he finds himself torn between the possibility of leaving the monastery for sake of an attractive woman and his desire to ascertain his sense of vocation. Westlake’s approach seems somewhat more tolerant on such matters as fornication than I believe Catholic theology is likely to be, but the ambivalence is part of what makes Brothers Keepers fascinating.
Brothers Keepers is a successful comedy in the style of the old M.A.S.H. television show (but with more parody than wisecracks). It is less a “Crime” novel as printed on the spine as it is a comedic commentary on the vacuity of modern life without an inner sense of purpose.