Monsignor Quixote

by Graham Greene

A religious novel, it tells the story of a humble priest who is elevated to Monsignor by the Pope himself because of a clerical error.

It's modern picaresque, with frequent nods to Cervantes... Quixote and Sancho drink and talk - about Judas and Stalin, the prodigal son, Marx, and belief that wears off like vodka. A book of moral complexity that explores deep theological themes in a light-hearted, accessible way.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, Religion, Spain, Novels, Literature, Literary Fiction

221 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1982

About the author

Henry Graham Greene was an English writer and journalist regarded by many as one of the leading novelists of the 20th century.
Combining literary acclaim with widespread popularity, Greene acquired a reputation early in his lifetime as a major writer, both of serious Catholic novels, and of thrillers (or "entertainments" as he termed them). He was shortlisted for the Nobel Prize in Literature several times. Through 67 years of writing, which included over 25 novels, he explored the conflicting moral and political issues of the modern world. The Power and the Glory won the 1941 Hawthornden Prize and The Heart of the Matter won the 1948 James Tait Black Memorial Prize and was shortlisted for the Best of the James Tait Black. Greene was awarded the 1968 Shakespeare Prize and the 1981 Jerusalem Prize. Several of his stories have been filmed, some more than once, and he collaborated with filmmaker Carol Reed on The Fallen Idol (1948) and The Third Man (1949).
He converted to Catholicism in 1926 after meeting his future wife, Vivienne Dayrell-Browning. Later in life he took to calling himself a "Catholic agnostic". He died in 1991, aged 86, of leukemia, and was buried in Corseaux cemetery in Switzerland. William Golding called Greene "the ultimate chronicler of twentieth-century man's consciousness and anxiety".

Reviews

[Zoeb · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The believer will fight another believer over a shade of difference; the doubter fights only with himself.”

It is December 2021, or to be precise, almost the end of December and also of another year at that. Two years ago, I had just finished reading Graham Greene's "Monsignor Quixote" for the first time, and had promised that I would return to it again in due course of time. In these last two years, a lot of things happened - mostly terrible and devastating and still a few so good that they can almost overshadow the disappointments completely. And yet my feeling - as stated in my original review - of longing to return to this novel, as I have frequently done with Greene, stands intact as ever; if anything, it had only grown stronger than ever, thus compelling me, at a time when I suddenly find myself not quite unsure of myself or my worthiness, to revisit it to find some solace. And I also knew that I would eventually find more than that.

There are many who, despite this novel's growing reputation (an Indian writer of note named Mr. Prayaag Akbar called it one of his favourite novels that he had read recently), consider "Monsignor Quixote" as one of Greene's low-points as a writer. I can understand why, though I would not agree with them. It is called "plot-less" by many; some call it "dated" and "old-fashioned" and some even accuse Greene of treading similar ground, as already done in his earlier Catholic novels, of faith, its culpable lapses and what does it mean against the background of a constantly changing century. What I believe is that there is actually a plot, an improvised and jaunty one, running through the richly written conversations; that the deliberately old-fashioned prose is actually a strength in hearkening back to a slower, more leisurely time when people would have patience to talk and think and reflect and that Greene's queries into faith, belief and doubt have a mellow and poignant flexibility to them that makes them worth revisiting again.

But beyond all these qualities as well as its gentle, mesmeric pace, Greene's gift for evoking scenery superbly in just some words (better than Maugham and Hemingway, in my opinion), its understated but exquisitely enjoyable sense of humour and its rich feeling of universal compassion, is one thing that lifts "Monsignor Quixote" head and shoulders above its genre of pastiche. And that is its celebration of friendship and mutual understanding.

Its two protagonists include, it should not be forgotten, a Catholic priest who shares the name of his famous literary ancestor and who is as chivalrous about his faith as that haplessly romantic knight errant of Cervantes' classic. And there is also his unlikely Sancho Panza, a Communist mayor, accompanying him on a reluctant holiday across the breadth of Spain in the wake of the death of Franco. One would be tempted to say that these two men would have been sworn enemies - belonging to creeds opposed to each other in principle and action. And yet, this Catholic priest and this Communist mayor end up forming an incredible bond of friendship and fellow-feeling that transcends their respective faiths, united in one sense by a shared liking for food, drink, conversation and an unexpected emotion called doubt.

Yes, doubt. Nobody has portrayed doubt, not just in faith but also in love, loyalty and friendship, as convincingly as Greene did and in "Monsignor Quixote", both men are assailed from time to time with a sense of uncertainty of whether they can believe in their respective faiths anymore in a world that is changing and has changed beyond recognition. Both debate and argue gently about what do their beliefs mean and yet, as they find themselves asking those same questions to themselves too, they end up clinging to each other in a kinship of doubt, of the mutual acknowledgement of uncertainty in life.

And it is thus this element of friendship that makes, even now, "Monsignor Quixote" such a memorable, reassuring and beautiful reading experience for me. There are not many people around us who will still treasure friendship and camaraderie even as they would be different from each other and this book is like a calm, cool and concise instruction on how we can still find a kinship, a sense of fellow-feeling with people in similar tastes and interests even as our beliefs would differ widely from each other. Which book, I wish to know most earnestly, would foster such a feeling of warmth and assurance today?

[Max Berendsen · Rating 5 out of 5]

I simply had to finish this book in one go. Though "Monsignor Quixote" only spans 194 pages, reading it feels like a great adventure. The book is the last one of Graham Greene's religious novels and centres around the priest of the parish priest of the village El Toboso who claims to be a descendant of Don Quixote. After an encounter with a mysterious Italian bishop he discovers that he's been promoted to the rank of Monsignor.

After encountering the wrath of his bishop, Monsignor Quixote sets out on a series of adventures with his friend and former communist mayor of El Toboso: Sancho Panza. The novel will leave you hanging between uncontrollable laughter and a feeling of bittersweet melancholy.

The last of Greene's religious novels, as mentioned above, it really conveys the meaning of his self-described "Agnostic Catholicism".

[Marc Lamot · Rating 3 out of 5]

A bit of an unusual Greene novel, as it is composed as a road trip in a rickety car, through Spain. Now, when I reveal that the fellow-travellers are a catholic bishop-to-be-against-his-will and a marxist ex-maior, it's clear we nevertheless are in Greene-country. Quite amusing (and sometimes hilarious) are the multiple references to the classic Don Quixote story of Cervantes (the rickety car, - an old Seat -, clearly being Rocinante). The mild tone is striking, because the central theme of the book is tolerance. Of course, also the other typical Greene themes (faith, evil, guilt...) are touched upon, but not so heavy-handed as in some of his classic novels, although I must concede that the lengthy conversations between the protaganists can become a bit tedious. It's also nice to contrast this work with Don Camillo and Peppone, by the Italian writer Guareschi, that also confronts a priest with a fanatic communist. And then there's the 'road movie' setting, effectively adapted to a television film in 1985, starring Alec Guinness: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3FZn... (recommended).

[Dhanaraj Rajan · Rating 4 out of 5]

First Impression: An interesting novel.

The Reason:

It is about belief and doubt. "Doubt and belief are two halves of the same hinge, neither is defined without the other." - Miguel de Unamuno. This quote was apparently in the first draft of Greene's Monsignor Quixote. Later when he revised it, he removed it. I doubt that it would make the theme of the book blatantly very explicit.

There are two important characters in the novel: Monsignor Quixote, a Catholic priest recently elevated to the rank of Monsignor and deposed from his parish at El Tobaso and Enrique Zancas alias Sancho, the deposed Communist mayor of El Tobaso. The entire novel can be considered a dialogue between a Communist and a Catholic priest. The main issues discussed are Faith and Doubt.

Faith is essential for a Catholic. But what about a Communist? Here is an excerpt form the novel:

Monsignor: "The Church depends on written authority as your Party depends on Marx and Lenin."

Sancho: "But you believe your books are the word of God."

Monsignor: "Be fair, Sancho. Do you not think that Marx and Lenin are as infallible as - well, Matthew and Mark?"

Monsignor says in unequivocal terms that a Communist also has Faith in the great future when Communism in its true nature will rule the whole world. Without faith no one can be on this earth. The element of mystery has to be present for the life to be interesting in this world. Monsignor asks the following two questions to Sancho for which Sancho gave no answer. 1. "Can a man live without faith?" 2. "Would you want to live in a wholly rational world? What a dull world that would be."

They both have faith. That is alright. But then, their faith is in totally opposite realities. So what brings them together as friends? The answer: They both struggle with doubts regarding their own respective faiths.

"It's human to doubt....sharing a sense of doubt can bring men together perhaps even more than sharing a faith. The believer will fight another believer over a shade f difference: the doubter fights only with himself."

I think that is what this novel is about. It encourages the believer not to fear doubts. In that sense, this novel is a great service to the faith life of a person.

Additional Information:

The dialogues are funny and witty. There are sharp criticisms on few principles in Moral Theology, the doctrine of Hell and Purgatory, Catholic practices and the dogma of Marxism.

Two Samples for the dialogue:

Example 1:

Monsignor: "All our good actions are acts of God, just as all our ill actions are acts of the Devil."

Mayor: "In that case you must forgive our poor Stalin, for perhaps only the Devil was responsible."

Example 2:

The Monsignor and Sancho have stopped over by an abandoned building to have their lunch. The wall of the building contains the painting of a hammer and sickle. The dialogue now.

Monsignor: "I would have preferred a cross to eat under."

Sancho: "What does it matter? The taste of the cheese will not be affected by cross or hammer. Besides, is there much difference between the two? They are both protests against injustice."

Monsignor: "But the results were a little different. One created tyranny, the other charity."

Last Word: If you have read Don Quixote, you will appreciate this work even more. Unfortunately I had not done so. But that was not a big handicap. I HOPE SO.......

[James · Rating 4 out of 5]

‘Monsignor Quixote’ (1982) by Graham Greene is a contemporary re-imagining/repositioning of Cervantes brilliant classic ‘Don Quixote’ – the story is still set in Spain, but now in the 1980’s rather than the 1600’s.

‘Monsignor Quixote’ is very clearly intended as a parallel or companion piece to ‘Don Quixote’ and the reader will surely benefit greatly from having read, or at least being significantly familiar with Cervantes original novel. Whilst I am not convinced how successful Greene’s novel would be in its’ own right – without the reader having Cervantes as a reference point or cornerstone; therein lies the paradox as Greene’s novel would not exist without Cervantes, so it is ultimately a moot point.

So in Monsignor Quixote - read Father/Monsignor Quixote for Don Quixote; the deposed communist Mayor for Sancho Panza; Rocinante the exhausted car for Rocinante the exhausted horse and religious/theological writings along with those of Marx and Lenin for tales of Chivalry.

As with Cervantes in Don Quixote, Greene in Monsignor Quixote deals very much with concepts of fact/fiction, mythology/reality, legend/actuality and in both novels, those lines are both blurred and questioned. Running alongside and very central throughout Monsignor Quixote are the themes of faith and belief – a faith in religious and political writings, a belief in God and political doctrine; but also here is doubt – a very human doubt in faiths and beliefs held.

In Don Quixote, the relationship between Don Quixote and Sancho Panza is the core of the novel, similarly in Monsignor Quixote it is the relationship between Monsignor Quixote and the Mayor that is the key – and as with Cervantes original, it is a relationship that is both entertaining and moving.

In some of the earlier parts of ‘Monsignor Quixote’ it does feel almost bogged down by extended discussions in moral theology and Marxist political doctrine – whilst these do clearly have a bearing and play a key part in Greene’s novel – it is when the adventures truly begin, that ‘Monsignor Quixote’ feels at its strongest and most compelling.

The central concept of Monsignor Quixote as a re-imagining of Don Quixote is a brilliant one and the novel is certainly executed with Greene’s customary literary verve and flair. However, almost by definition – Green’s novel does not, nor cannot deliver the same immense impact, power, influence and originality of Don Quixote. But realistically, Green could surely never really have imagined, nor expected that it would? Neither is Monsignor Quixote classic Graham Greene (Heart of The Matter, End of The Affair, Power and The Glory et al) – however Monsignor Quixote is still very well-conceived, constructed and executed and it is a thought-provoking and entertaining read.

Essentially, as well as being a very strong novel in its’ own right, Greene’s novel ‘Monsignor Quixote’ certainly adds to and compliments the legend, the mythology and the brilliance that is Cervantes original ‘Don Quixote’ and that ultimately should always be the readers starting point, before turning to Greene’s reinvented Quixote.

[Shane · Rating 4 out of 5]

Greene’s picaresque novel, a take on Cervantes’ Don Quixote, is a delightful read (and mercifully, much shorter).

The newly minted Monsignor Quixote of La Mancha sets off on a trip across Spain with Communist ex-Mayor Sancho, and strangely encounter similar perils and pitfalls as their celebrated fictional namesakes of four centuries ago. The Bishop is ostensibly on a shopping trip to buy his new vestments and the ex-mayor is looking to get away and bury his hurt from losing the last town council election. In the back seat of their battered car, aptly named Rosinante, is an inexhaustible case of good Manchegan wine.

Monsignor Quixote is firm in his Catholic faith but is anti-establishment, and so is his travelling companion. They enter into many discourses along the way, Quixote standing up for God and trouncing the Church, and Sancho pleading for Marx and dumping on the Politbureau. No subject is taboo: masturbation, the rhythm method, the withdrawal method, the Bible and Das Kapital. They read each other’s books and take pot shots at each other’s faiths; Sancho even has a theory about the Prodigal Son: he posits that the Prodigal got bored and disappointed upon his return to his father’s right wing wealth and fled back to the swineherd to live among the proletariat. Quixote compares the Holy Trinity to three bottles of wine from the same vintage – the same essence in three distinct entities. As they journey along it becomes clear that Sancho is the closet Capitalist, espousing fine wines, luxury hotels and good food, while the Monsignor represents the proletariat, reluctant to even announce his newly appointed promotion to bishop. Quixote is also naive, thinking that the movie his worldly companion takes him to, The Maiden’s Prayer, must be a religious one; he even chuckles at the graphic sex scenes not having known physical love.

The Guardia, who constantly interrupt our heroes’ journey, stand for the windmills in the Cervantes chronicle as they tilt to the tune of every regime in Spain. In the eyes of the Church, Quixote is mad and must be put away, before he brings any more embarrassment through his ramblings around the countryside with a Communist, even seen exiting a pornographic movie theatre. And therein lies the thrust of the story: the struggle of the honest individual against the uncaring Establishment – a timeless theme that always grips the reader.

The travellers’ individual philosophies that ooze out of the novel are priceless: “Man can’t live without a tranquilizer – opium, wine or religion,” “all the best people have been for awhile in prison,” “In a perfect world, what need would there be for hope?” and “I never pity the dead, I envy them.” There are many others.

Greene’s Catholic novels have always posed the great question – can one be on the “outside” and still be classified as a believer? And his heroes have suffered tragically for taking that position. Monsignor Quixote is not spared this end either. However, I was heartened to read this book, for unlike in his other novels where protagonists wrestle with guilt and remorse in their dark worlds before arriving at redemption, Greene takes Quixote and Sancho on a grand tour of the Spanish countryside, fuelled with wine and camaraderie, and deposits them gently into their earned redemptive states. A light but thought provoking read.

[Smiley · Rating 3 out of 5]

I didn't really enjoy reading this novel compared to his famous "The Power and the Glory" for some reasons so my rating is around 2.75, not 3. The first reason is that this one is rather obscure to me, I have never known that it exists, thus my reading motive is a bit shaky. The second one is concerned with my knowledge of Latin focusing on some functional ones related to my field of study, that is, I have known only those Latin phrases or abbreviations used in academic circles, for example: via, Nota bene, i.e., et al. cf., etc. (itself) The third one is about its religious terms and formidable ecclesiastical Latin which are absolutely Greek to me, for instance: Opus Dei (p. 107), the Mass (p. 180), Communion (p. 181), etc. and the following: In partibus infidelium (p. 19), Esto mihi in Deum protectorem et in locum refugii (p. 101), Et intoibo ad altare Dei, qui laetificat juventutem meam (p. 180), etc.

However, Regarding him as one of those rare authors, I still admire, respect and enjoy reading his arguably unique, brilliant and unsurpassable writing style in terms of the impact acquired from special word usage in which, I think, his readers would learn and apply in writing or speaking English, for example:

It was a day when the heat stood and quivered on the dry fields, ... (p. 3)

The Mayor put his hand for a moment on Father Quixote's shoulder, and Father Quixote could feel the electricity of affection in the touch. (p. 38)

They killed one bottle of wine while they waited and a second with their meal, ... (p. 48)
etc.




To continue ...

[J.C. · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had read this years ago but had forgotten it. I remember not rating it among my favourite books by Graham Greene and I wonder now if it demands a certain maturity (which I have in years, these days, if in nothing else!). The protagonist, an aging village priest in Spain, and his friend, the former Communist Mayor Zancas, whom he calls “Sancho”, maintain a happy understanding that Monsignor Quixote is a descendant of Cervantes’ Don Quixote and that the Mayor is the incarnation of his companion Sancho. Even the priest’s car, in which they set off together on a trip, goes by the name of Rocinante, Don Quixote’s horse. This identification with the embodiments of the noble ideals of chivalry and adventure enables them to “tilt at windmills”, this a reference to Don Quixote thinking windmills were giants and dealing with them in what sounds like an enthusiastic if somewhat irrational manner.

Now, I haven’t read Cervantes’ novel but there is so much in Greene’s tale that is drawn from it that I almost don’t need to. I was going to read something else. But I knew that Don Quixote lurked somewhere deep in my inner being and possibly on my bookshelves too. And there he was, right at the top, right at the end of the shelf, looking fat and companionable, just waiting for me to discover how the windmills led him to find “the truth on his deathbed”.

Does Monsignor Quixote find it? If so, how does this happen? Is it by means of the ‘tilting at windmills’ that he does with his Communist friend, in which they hurl javelins at each other in laying bare the truths of their different beliefs? Or by the mere adventure of the road, which confronts the deceptions and betrayals of the past, and opens up new perspectives? Our priest learns to dare to admit and oppose the hypocrisy, and worse, in the Church’s teaching and example; but in so doing he is broken before his God, rejected, despised and betrayed by his Church even as was Christ by the Jewish leaders.

And the Mayor? He has imbibed all that Communism can sell; he has lived through the years of Franco; can he, through his friend, the priest who learns to read Marx, discover grace? Their arguments are at first vehement, defensive:

“All our good actions are acts of God,” (asserts the priest), “just as all our ill actions are acts of the Devil.”
“In that case you must forgive our poor Stalin,” the Mayor said, “for perhaps only the Devil was responsible.”

The arguments lessen, and the friendship grows. While the Mayor’s cynicism and text-book Communism are softened by the purity of the soul of Monsignor Quixote, the unworldly priest is hardened as in a refining fire of anger at what the Church has done and continues to do. Very early in the story he foresees that his fate will be similar to that of his ‘ancestor’; under Greene’s hand he becomes strong enough to embrace it. Greene’s is the doubt that breaks his character open, his the humanity that must confront the corruption within the Church. The premise of the Mayor is that faith lessens naturally with age; Greene’s priest seems to accept this, until, like the whisky priest in “The Power and the Glory”, he is redeemed. At the last he is a vindication of humanity in faith, but humanity justified, become a living thing, by the power of love, which is true faith.

And he’s likeable. So is the Mayor. The tale is easy to read and often humorous, though never free from the surgeon’s knife. Here, Monsignor Quixote rounds on the Mayor:

“ ‘And now you have a complete belief, don’t you? In the prophet Marx. You don’t have to think for yourself any more. Isaiah has spoken. You are in the hands of future history. How happy you must be with your complete belief. There’s only one thing you will ever lack – the dignity of despair.’ Father Quixote spoke with an unaccustomed anger - or was it, he wondered, envy?”

The entire book is like this, ideas, beliefs, whole lifetimes dedicated to the pursuit of a faith overturned, made ridiculous one minute and vindicated the next; and this is beautifully summed up by the single word “hopping” – encountered in St Francis de Sales’ The Love of God – and given a whole new meaning by Monsignor Quixote!

[BrokenTune · Rating 1 out of 5]

One of the insights I have gained from reading Greene is that we do not see eye to eye when it comes to being fascinated by religion. It is a topic that holds little interest for me. Unfortunately, Monsignor Quixote is very much focused on the "religious".

I'm describing the topic the "religious" because at the heart of the book is a dialogue between Monsignor Quixote, a Spanish priest, and Sancho, who used to be the major of the Monsignor's home town. Sancho is a communist whose faith in Marx, Engels, and Lenin is as strong as the Monsignor's in the holy trinity.

What Greene sets out to do is to throw both characters together on a journey through Spain in the same manner that Cervantes did with his characters.
In the process, Quixote and Sancho discuss different aspects of life from the Catholic and the communist angles - sometimes with humorous outcomes:

"What puzzles me, friend, is how you can believe in so many incompatible ideas. For example, the Trinity. It’s worse than higher mathematics. Can you explain the Trinity to me? It was more than they could do in Salamanca.’
‘I can try.’
‘Try then.’
‘You see these bottles?’
‘Of course.’
‘Two bottles equal in size. The wine they contained was of the same substance and it was born at the same time. There you have God the Father and God the Son and there, in the half bottle, God the Holy Ghost. Same substance. Same birth. They’re inseparable. Whoever partakes of one partakes of all three.’
‘I was never even in Salamanca able to see the point of the Holy Ghost. He has always seemed to me a bit redundant.’
‘We were not satisfied with two bottles, were we? That half bottle gave us the extra spark of life we both needed. We wouldn’t have been so happy without it. Perhaps we wouldn’t have had the courage to continue our journey. Even our friendship might have ceased without the Holy Spirit.’

No question, Greene does create a satirical, well written discourse. However, the topics of conversation and the patterns of conversation get repetitive very quickly - revolving around the wine, purple socks, and for some reason there seems to be a lot of discussion of birth control.

Having progressed to about the half-way point, I had my fill of circular discussions and even the odd self-reverential mention of the "whisky priest" (featured in Greene's The Power and the Glory), and skimmed through the rest of the book.

I'm glad I did. I love Greene's work but not even for him will I sit through something that is not only dull and moving at snail's pace but also utterly unoriginal.
Unoriginal not because Greene is re-imagining the characters and plot of Cervantes' work but unoriginal because I grew up watching a series of films featuring a Catholic priest called Don Camillo quarrelling with a communist mayor called Peppone - which really is exactly the same plot as Greene's.

The Don Camillo stories were created by Italian author Giovannino Guareschi (1908–68), and are highly entertaining. Unlike Greene, Guareschi does not dwell on religious or political theory but focuses on the humanity that both characters, priest and mayor, try to encourage in their respective flocks.

[Michael Perkins · Rating 5 out of 5]

film version...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S3FZn...

[Paulo (not receiving notifications)]

The believer will fight another believer over a shade of difference; the doubter fights only with himself. ― Graham Greene

Greene was a writer a few levels above the majority average ones. Nostalgic meditations on faith and doubts and the varieties of human folly are often the recurring themes in his works. Graham Greene was a writer who could conjure up a life, a setting, a dilemma, and a worldview in a few lines.
He said: Write is a form of therapy; sometimes, I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint, can manage to escape the madness, the melancholia, the panic fear which is inherent in the human condition. Indeed this is probably the reason why I put my feeble thoughts in form of reviews that probably no one will read, on this social network.

The trolley dilemma, conceived by Philippa Foot in 1967, is a "tool" used to push us to think about the consequences of an action and consider whether its moral value is determined exclusively by its outcome; it is usually applied over scenarios, such as war, torture, abortion and euthanasia. But Greene uses its own form of a dilemma here to exploit the meaning and purpose of faith in something "Higher" than the banality of human existence.
Our actions, derived from intentions and their consequences, are often impenetrable and indecipherable. If we can assume that dilemmas have always the same consequences, our moral discernment, however, is seldom reliable, logical or consistent. Foot argued that there’s a distinction between killing and letting die. The former is active while the latter is passive so the first is admissible and the second prohibited. This is described as the principle of "Double Effect", which states that it’s permissible to indirectly cause harm, as a side effect, if the action promotes a greater good. However, it’s not acceptable to intentionally cause damage, even in the pursuit of the greater good.
If we acknowledge that everyone has equal rights, sacrificing one even if the intention is to save five, is wrong.
One of the many problems around "dilemmas" is that not everyone answers in the same way to stressful, emotional and moral options, and even when different people agree, they may differ, sometimes deeply, in the justification of the action they defend. These thought experiments have been mostly used to stimulate discussion about the difference between "Take Action" and "Stand By".
In this novel, Greene uses almost the same technic in the dialogues between a roman catholic priest, father Quixote and a communist Mayor, obviously Sancho. And I can't forget their car: Rocinante....
It is another theological novel from the converted to catholicism author who already had approached the theme with "The Power and the Glory", all set in a parallel "modern universe of the Cervantes classic.
The "Dilemma" here is between the power of reasoning to command our actions and be solely responsible for them or just staying "aside" and having "Faith". The theological/political dialogue between Catholic and Communist is delightful in its semi-conclusion (or consent agreement between the two characters) that the priest is a Catholic in spite of the Curia while the Mayor is a Communist. . . in spite of the Politburo, while comparing Torquemada and Stalin. At some points, Graham Greene seems to have gotten inspiration from the universe of Giovanni Guarechi's "Don Camilo".
I would have preferred a cross, Father Quixote said, to eat under. What does it matter? The taste of the cheese will not be affected by cross or hammer. Besides is there much difference between the two? They are both protests against injustice...
As usual in Graham Greene, the speculations about doom, pity and the inscrutability of God's will are present here. The explanation of the holly trinity with two and a half bottles of wine is delightful.
The characters are in their late years but they are not old men yet. However, they have become "obsolete", without purpose and lost in the changes imposed in their lives, like many other characters of Greene.
I believe that G. Greene used another pair of delusional heroes in "Monseigneur Quixote" to achieve a similar effect as in "Travels with my aunt". The use of flawed characters as heroes is recurrent in G.G.'s work.
From what I remember, from both books, I think that the effect Greene wanted to obtain with the use of two opposites, giving the replica to each other to achieve a consensus (or not...), is more efficient in "Monseigneur Quixote".
In both books, we have these dichotomous pairs where the cynic and impulsive character employs gentle, logical psychological pressure to lead the emotionally tortured one to a "revelation" and to see the "light".
The rejection of dogmatic authority is the main theme of the book. Greene's attitude toward authority has always been "problematic": A convert to Catholicism who has been strongly attracted by Marxism, Greene has struggled with himself to conciliate two systems that have traditionally demanded a high degree of obedience and submission from their adepts and are both in confrontation with each other's respective principles.
This is a poignant and eerie book which at some points is very amusing. In the end, if Father Quixote touches your most sensible emotional "strings" is the mayor Sancho that I recall with more fondness with his sympathies lying more in the human weaknesses than rectitudes.
This is not a masterpiece but a very nice and pleasant reading.

[A. Dawes · Rating 2 out of 5]

Although one of Greene's later novels, Monsignor Quixote is his most dated work.

In the story, Quixote is promoted from village priest to Monsignor Quixote via an error. His accompanying travelling comedian is Sancho, a Communist former-mayor. Although a clever homage to Cervantes' work, this novel relies heavily on exploring Catholicism and theology.

Unfortunately, the themes are tired and dated for modern day readers. And for many non-Christian or even non-Catholic readers, may even border on inaccessible. This is tired Greene, and an ineffective product of his era, which doesn't compare with his more timeless works. It may have worked back in the day, but doesn't any longer.

[F.E. Beyer · Rating 5 out of 5]

A lot of drink driving goes on in this humorous tale. Monsignor Quixote and his companion the Communist Mayor are worthy bumbling heroes. Quixote is an innocent, almost a heroic idiot - something along the line's of Dostoevsky's Prince Myshkin in The Idiot. The Bishop and Father Herrera are entertaining hypocritical villains, and the Guardia Civil are like the Tontons Macoutes boogeymen from The Comedians. Not only is this Greene doing a pastiche of Cervantes's Don Quijote - but it feels like he is spoofing his own work at times, he even mentions a whisky priest, bringing to mind his more famous novel The Power and the Glory. Greene's lessons in Catholic theology are much clearer and more charming here than in his other novels. Good fun.

[A.K. Kulshreshth · Rating 5 out of 5]

A wonderful read. As this 1982 review puts it, "the gentlest and most amiable of his books since Travels with My Aunt." This other review, also of 1982, suggests, "They should award him the Nobel Prize for Literature. It is time."

[Quo · Rating 4 out of 5]

Graham Greene's 1984 novel, Monsignor Quixote, is unlike any of the other books I've read by the author. For whatever reason, while I've read 10 of his novels, some multiple times, I'd neglected this one but ended up enjoying it very much.


The book has been labeled "picaresque" but that doesn't seem to really capture the spirit of Greene's novel, nor does the word "entertainment", a phrasing the author assigned to some of his less formidable, or at least less serious works.

For, as with so many of Graham Greene's novels, there is a portrayal of the author's own search for a particular path to faith, for him quite apart from formal religious belief.

The tale involves a small town Spanish priest in the province of LaMancha, said to be a descendant of Cervantes' quirky, fictional character who conveys a misguided but fanciful sense of chivalry.

Father Quixote has been elevated to the rank of monsignor, apparently due to a clerical error, to the discomfort of his bishop. But at the root of his own sense of himself is a lingering anti-Franco, and a distinctly anti-Opus Dei approach to his life as a priest.

Opus Dei began in Burgos, a pro-Franco bastion in Spain, as a sort of extreme or orthodox version of Roman-Catholicism, while Fr. Quixote is quite in the other direction. He is told to take a holiday break from his parish role, with an authoritarian cleric as his replacement.

As it turns out, the peregrinations of "Fr. Q." & the recently-defeated town mayor, a communist whose surname is Zancas but is called "Sancho", are a tad cartoonish at times but I found the story charming. The pair drive about the countryside in an elderly, unreliable Spanish car, a Seat 600, called "Rocinante" (as was Don Quixote's horse), as they consume far too much local wine, while debating the benefits & drawbacks of God vs. Marx in contemporary society.


Their journey is akin to a pilgrimage, though not in the direction of Santiago de Compostela. Along the way, Monsignor Quixote (who prefers to be just "Fr. Q.") reads The Communist Manifesto, while the stalwart communist & former mayor, "Sancho", attempts to make sense of his travel companion's book on moral theology by Heribert Jone. a work both dismiss.

What adds to the discomfort of their overburdened vehicle & a limited budget on back-country roads is the presence of local militia who seem offended by their presence, especially a priest seeming to be in consort with a communist.

Fr. Quixote, rather than jousting at windmills, jousts with his sidekick "Sancho", the former mayor but confesses to a definite disregard for the formality of ecclesiastical moral laws, preferring to follow the examples held within the lives of the saints, including St. Teresa, St. Francis & St. John of the Cross, all of whom exhibit love, sometimes to the exclusion of religious doctrine.


Graham Greene, who traveled about Spain with a priest has a wonderful feel for the older, small town Spanish padre who comments that after 30 years as a parish priest, he still has doubts. Some doubts are salved by wine, with the completion of 3 bottles standing for the Holy Trinity.

In Fr. Quixote's words:

I am sure of nothing, not even the existence of God. But doubt is not treachery, doubt is human. I want others to believe too--perhaps some of their belief will rub off on me. I am a very ignorant man. I read the lives of the saints. They wrote of love & I could understand that. The other things did not seem important.

Whether it's the "whiskey priest" of The Power & the Glory or the doubts of Monsignor Quixote, the issue of moral ambiguity was present throughout Graham Greene's life and is channeled through the characters in the body of his work.

At least for me, the humorous touches in this novel proved a pleasant surprise, while also acting as a veil to cover far deeper thoughts, a fable of sorts wherein two disparate souls manage to bond.

*Within my review are the images of author, Graham Greene; the classic Spanish car, Seat 600; Alex Guinness & Leo McKern as Monsignor Quixote & the former Mayor Zancas, better known as "Sancho", in the film version of Graham Greene's novel.

[Julio The Fox · Rating 4 out of 5]

Around the time Greene published this dialogue disguised as a novel I saw a cartoon in a Jesuit magazine showing Jesus carrying his cross and besides him Marx lifting a copy of DAS KAPITAL. The caption underneath read "Fellow Travelers?". That is, in sum, the theme and unfulfilled prophecy of MONSIGNOR QUIXOTE. A Catholic priest made Monsignor by clerical mistake undertakes a long journey with Sancho, the ex-Communist mayor of a Spanish village. Do they both represent the flip sides of the same dogma? Are they championing the same cause under different names? What methods are morally permissible in trying to reach for utopia, or as the Christians call it, heaven? Greene, a devout Catholic, always had a soft spot for the Latin variety of Marxism, whence his friendship with Fidel Castro and Omar Torrijos of Panama. Alas, the marriage of Marxism and left Catholicism was not meant to be. The same year the Sandinistas welcomed Pope John Paul II to Nicaragua with a giant banner in Managua reading BETWEEN RELIGION AND THE REVOLUTION THERE IS NO CONTRADICTION the late pontiff unleashed a purge of Latin American liberation theologians worthy of Josef Stalin, only without the Lubyanka and the blood.

[Chris Hamburger · Rating 5 out of 5]

Crisp dialogue, a story not muddied with useless and monotonous description. It was hilarious; a priest in a brothel, a porn theater all unbeknownst to him until its too late, traveling with a communist mayor, the exchange of religion and faith and politics and human error, is both funny and thought provoking. My first Greene novel, and will be reading the Quiet American next and if its as engrossingly funny as this he will surely jump to the top of my favorite author list.

In a deeper review of the of the novel, it deals with analyzing the line between fact and fiction, which becomes synonymous with doubt and faith and certainty. Fr. Quixote wonders if a life without faith is better than one with certainty of the truth. As a free mind a person can choose what he or she believes and some of these beliefs can be more firmly rooted in reality than others; ie. more easily proven and as such Greene poses the questions to the reader: which belief leads to a more satisfying life and does it even matter?

Very satisfying, enlightening read, even for those atheists who choose to believe their is nothing beyond..."the Thunderdome."

[Helen · Rating 4 out of 5]

A lovely dialectic between belief and faith, politics and religion, plain old human feeling. As I read it, it occurred to me that the two main characters, Father Quixote and the Communist mayor, Sancho, must have represented two sides of GG's personality. Sweet and charming, two words I never thought I'd attribute to any work by Mr. Greene, a late work full of love, humor and forgiveness.

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

From BBC Radio 4 - 15 Minute Drama:
Dramatised by Stephen Wyatt

Graham Greene's comic 'entertainment', set in rural Spain a few years after the death of Franco.
Father Quixote makes a friend of an Italian bishop, with unexpected consequences.

2/10: Father Quixote receives some unwelcome - and very surprising - news from his bishop.

3/10: Newly appointed a Monsignor, Father Quixote and his friend Sancho set off on their quest for purple socks.

4/10: Father Quixote and his friend Sancho arrive in Madrid to buy purple socks - and attract the unwelcome attention of the Guardia Civil.

5/10: Father Quixote and his friend Sancho arrive in Madrid to buy purple socks - and attract the unwelcome attention of the Guardia Civil.

6/10: Monsignor Quixote and Sancho help a robber - and pay an unexpected price.

7/10: Monsignor Quixote wakes from a drugged sleep to discover that he has been kidnapped and taken back to El Toboso.

8/10: Imprisoned in his own house, Father Quixote is at the mercy of his bishop - unless his friend Sancho can pull off a daring rescue.

9/10: Having escaped El Toboso, Monsignor Quixote and Sancho go in search of wine but find themselves in a battle to save the honour of the church.

10/10: Monsignor Quixote and Sancho are taken in by the monks at the monastery of Oseira and their journey comes to an end.

Directed by Marc Beeby.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b07mwqfc

3* The Third Man
4* The End of the Affair
4* Our Man in Havana
3* The Captain and the Enemy
3* The Quiet American
4* The Ministry of Fear
4* The Power and the Glory
4* The Honorary Consul
3* Orient Express
4* Monsignor Quixote
TR Brighton Rock
TR Travels With My Aunt
TR The Tenth Man
TR The Heart of the Matter

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

I enjoyed this Graham Greene novel set in post Franco Spain. The story about a priest and the communist mayor of a small village and their friendship. The story is about moral doubt and the two embark on a trip in the priests antiquated car. Coupled with the priest descended from Quixote and with the same name with his friend the mayor called Sancho’s they have their own funny adventures with the guardia, erotic films, a bank robber and the bishop.

Lots of wine, cheese and conversations are had about Marxism and religion. A funny book.

[Jonfaith · Rating 5 out of 5]

This proved a lively tandem read with the Mrs. A priest is taking a sightseeing drive through Spain and winds up in the company of a communist politician. Atrocity studies are compared, as if Torquemada and Stalin can be discussed over a quaint lunch. What, they can? My mistake. This is My Dinner With Andre on a more political bend. Given its fluidity, I'd recommend it to just about anyone, despite it being second-tier Greene.

[Rise · Rating 3 out of 5]

Father Quixote was peacefully tending to his parishioners at El Toboso when he received a letter from his bishop. The Holy See was promoting him into a monsignor, and all because he was endorsed by a bishop (a different one) who was once aided by Father Quixote in a time of need. This was a surprise, all the more for his superior who considered the priest's ways to be bent and misguided. He and the bishop did not always see eye to eye, but the Holy See had the final say and that's that.

With his promotion, the now-Monsignor Quixote found himself vacillating about his new ministry. A new parish priest was sent to replace him and Father (he was still not used to be called Monsignor) Quixote took the opportunity to ask for some time off, a holiday where he could recover his wits and take things in stock. It's not everyday one gets to be elevated to a position one was not asking for. The bishop approved the request, obviously still reeling from the turn of events. How did Father Quixote maneuvered his way into this?

It was hard for Father Quixote to be leaving El Toboso after all these years. But he had his marching orders. Leaving with him on his holiday was Mayor Enrique Zancas, also known as Sancho, an open communist and fresh from his defeat in the recent election in the village. The two of them were to ride in Father Quixote's old but beloved Seat 600, named Rocinante. They were bringing a lot of good old Manchegan wine.

The journey of our two characters was a sally into the map and territory of spiritual and religious life. The romp across the Spanish landscapes framed Father Quixote and Mayor Sancho's constant philosophical exchanges, their endless debates between the merits and virtues of Catholic life and Marxism. The parallelism with Father Quixote's "ancestor" was apparent in the way theology was treated as a form of chivalry. In the same way the ancestor steeped himself in books of chivalry (and in the process may have irreversibly lost his mind), the priest learned the doctrines and teachings governing his religion and blindly stuck to them.

For his part, the unbeliever and worldly Sancho always set off his communist ideals against the Catholic priest's belief. The interaction between the two was not always easy, but with banter and wine, the right mix of good chemistry, a close friendship developed between them. Their adventures "on the high roads of the world" consisted of set pieces that were always a riot of wit.

Mayor Sancho, who played the devil with gusto, was ever taunting Father Quixote's religious beliefs. But one could also sense the devil's advocate in the character of the priest himself, who despaired: "How is it that when I speak of belief, I become aware always of a shadow, the shadow of disbelief haunting my belief?"

Considered Graham Greene's last religious book, Monsignor Quixote first came out in 1982. In it, the novelist must have given a synthesis of his belief in God and the ways fiction can dramatize it. Greene's was not a faithful adaptation, but boy was it so faithful. Like belief in the reality of fiction, belief in a supreme being was predicated on how much reality the Author could offer his readers. The Catholic novelist relied on clever dialogues and beautiful ironies to deliver his point across.

   "[Don Quixote] was a fiction, my bishop says, in the mind of a writer...."
   "Perhaps we are all fictions, father, in the mind of God."

Like Father Quixote's ancestor, the character of this novel insisted on the recognition of his existence in fact, perhaps in the same way the novelist insisted on the existence of God. The literary imagination as metaphor for the religious imagination. With the cast-iron conviction of his ancestor who vehemently denied the truth behind the "fake Quixote", Father Quixote's passionate insistence on his own free will and self-determination lay at the very root of his religious belief.

   "Why are you always saddling me with my ancestor?"
   "I was only comparing—"
   "You talk about him at every opportunity, you pretend that my saints' books are like his books of chivalry, you compare our little adventures with his. Those Guardia were Guardia, not windmills. I am Father Quixote, and not Don Quixote. I tell you, I exist. My adventures are my own adventures, not his. I go my way—my way—not his. I have free will. I am not tethered to an ancestor who has been dead these four hundred years."

The novel's climax was a cunning one. It showed Greene's position cemented via transubstantiation (in a manner of speaking) of fiction into fact and of doubt into belief. When it comes down to it, belief in something does not really require the existence of the thing one believes in. In the words of another priest in the novel, a Trappist monk: "I suppose Descartes brought me to the point where he brought himself—to faith. Fact or fiction—in the end you can't distinguish between them—you just have to choose."

[C. Hollis Crossman · Rating 5 out of 5]

Every time I read this book it gets better. Graham Greene's novel of faith, doubt, sin, and charity is one of the best of its kind. The idea of a Spanish priest promoted to the office of monsignor after a chance encounter with an Italian bishop is funny enough, but when Greene makes that priest the descendant of Don Quixote and gives him a Sancho Panza of his own in the form of a former Mayor who is also a closet Communist, it quickly becomes outrageous. Like, Monsignor Quixote blowing up condoms into balloons because he doesn't know what they are outrageous.

But, funny as the novel is, there's always a touch of melancholy. Quixote and the Mayor have many conversations about the nature of faith, the human incapacity for certainty, the fragility of belief, and the relief of death. For Greene, Don Quixote's search for chivalry becomes Monsignor Quixote's search for faith—or rather, the Mayor's search for faith through his exploration of his own and Monsignor Quixote's doubt. The way Greene mirrors Cervantes' novel in his own is brilliant and complex, as are the themes he explores. It would be impossible to identify them all here. Let it be enough to say that one is unlikely to come away from this masterpiece unchanged.

The ending is one of the most majestic and sad and hopeful in all of literature. It outshines the ending of The Grapes of Wrath by degrees of magnitude. In the novel, there's often a comic tension between the fact that the protagonist is supposedly the descendant of a fictional character, a tension which is never really resolved. Ironically, this tension does and does not exist for the Mayor, whom Monsignor Quixote affectionately calls "Sancho" after his ancestor's famous squire. Which makes the Mayor's enlightenment on the final pages all the more relatable, and which will make the reader (the Catholic reader, at any rate) all the more likely to give in to the impulse to pray for the Mayor as one prays for other loved ones and saints.

[Bettie · Rating 4 out of 5]

rosado> walkies> Read by Cyril Cussack



The descendents of Quijano and Sancho go travelling. Wonderful soft adventure, gallons of wine, and the talk is of purple nylon socks, Marxism, Roman Catholicism and onanism. Many -isms, yes, but gentle philosophical fun.

Loved it but you wouldn't necessarily think it was from Greene's nib. Highly recommended if you are looking for a modern-day tilter.

Cross-posted to anobii and librarything.

[Krista · Rating 4 out of 5]

Although I do not completely agree with the theology in this book, the deeper meanings and heart of this story is so well done.

Also, this is the first Greene book that I have laughed in. The way Greene worked in Don Quixote, Sancho, Rosinante, and the rest of the gang was worth the read even if you weren’t also moved by the spiritual story.

I’m a Graham Greene fan for life.

[David · Rating 1 out of 5]

I agree with the review by Broken Tunes on Goodreads about religious writers. I will always love Graham Greene, but I felt disappointed in him in this book.

[Katie Long · Rating 5 out of 5]

Oh my heart! Yiyun Li never steers me wrong with her APS Together picks and this may be my favorite one yet. What an absolute gem.

[Mireli ♡ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Cada momento de esta historia fue un a sensación especial ♡. Los momentos serios como los divertidos la hicieron muy especial.
Es que,como pude tomarle cariño a un alcalde gruñón? Como pude tenerle tanto cariño a un padre religioso y lleno de dudas? No lo sé,pero fue muy fácil tomarles cariño desde las primeras páginas.
En general los "debates" fueron bastante ligeros y entendibles. Me gustó la forma en que cada uno respetaba la creencia del otro e incluso se tomaron el tiempo de conocerla más. Y a pesar de sus creencias comenzaron a tener este cariño,este compañerismo,(incluso lo describían como amor 👀). No me odien pero en algunas partes los shippeaba JAJAJAJA 💗
Me deja con una sensación increíble está historia!

[Pascale · Rating 1 out of 5]

A very weak book by Greene's standards. There is no plot, and little by way of character study. The comparison between the protagonists, a humble priest and a Communist mayor, and the heroes of "Don Quixote" feels belabored. The central themes are doubt and its opposite, absolute belief. Living with doubt is unbearable, but absolute belief is elusive, yet, once attained, stifling. Such meagre insights hardly make this clumsy parable worth reading.

[Jay Green · Rating 5 out of 5]

Delightful. Clever. Sweet. Melancholic. Funnier than the original.