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226 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1961
Let's go down and swim in that liquid moonlight.
We all wind up with something or with someone, and if it's someone instead of just something, we're lucky, perhaps . . . unusually lucky.
HANNAH: [...:] The episode in the cold, inhuman hotel room, Mr. Shannon, for which you despise the lady almost as much as you despise yourself. Afterward you are so polite to the lady that I'm sure it must chill her to the bone, the scrupulous little attentions that you pay her in return for your little enjoyment of her. The gentleman-of-Virginia act that you put on for her, your noblesse oblige treatment of her...Oh no, Mr. Shannon, don't kid yourself that you ever travel with someone. You have always traveled alone except for your spook, as you call it.
SHANNON: It's going to storm tonight—a terrific electrical storm. Then you will see the Reverend T. Lawrence Shannon's conception of God Almighty paying a visit to the world he created. I want to go back to the Church and preach the gospel of God as Lightning and Thunder...and also stray dogs vivisected and...and...and...[He points out suddenly toward the sea.:] That's him! There he is now! [He is pointing out at a blaze, a majestic apocalypse of gold light, shafting the sky as the sun drops into the Pacific.:] His oblivious majesty—and here I am on this...dilapidated verandah of a cheap hotel, out of season, in a country caught and destroyed in its flesh and corrupted in its spirit by its gold-hungry conquistadors that bore the flag of the Inquisition along with the Cross of Christ.
HANNAH: I have a strong feeling you will go back to the Church with this evidence you've been collecting, but when you do and it's a black Sunday morning, look out over the congregation, over the smug, complacent faces for a few old, very old faces, looking up at you, as you begin your sermon, with eyes like a piercing cry for something to still look up to, something to still believe in. And then I think you'll not shout what you say you shouted that black Sunday in Pleasant Valley, Virginia. I think you will throw away the violent, furious sermon, you'll toss it into the chancel, and talk about...no, maybe talk about...nothing...just...
SHANNON: What?
HANNAH: Lead them beside still waters because you know how badly they need the still waters, Mr. Shannon.
Yeah, this angry, petulant old man. I mean he's represented like a bad-tempered childish old, old, sick, peevish man -- I mean like the sort of old man in a nursing home that's putting together a jigsaw puzzle and can't put it together and gets furious at it and kicks over the table. Yes, I tell you they do that, all our theologies do it -- accuse God of being a cruel senile delinquent, blaming the world and brutally punishing all he created for his own faults in construction....In that remote Mexican hotel overlooking the Pacific Ocean, Shannon goes mad, by bits and pieces, while Hannah tries to keep him together. All the time this is happening, Maxine, the owner of the hotel, wants Shannon for herself. Having known him from other visits during which he had breakdowns, she is willing to take the chance and wants a someone to replace her deceased husband Fred.