“The story is told with . . . superb grace and wit.”— The New Yorker “If reading it upsets you, do not be surprised. . . . Moore has eliminated our standard escapes from God—a secularized Kingdom or a romanticized past.”— America “A neat and striking story.”— Times Literary Supplement In the not-too-distant future, the Fourth Vatican Council has abolished private confession, clerical dress, and the Latin Mass, and opened discussions about a merger with Buddhism. Authorities in Rome are embarrassed by publicity surrounding a group of monks who stubbornly celebrate the old Mass in their island abbey off the coast of Ireland. The clever, assured Father James Kinsella is dispatched to set things right. At Muck Abbey he meets Abbot Tomás, a man plagued by doubt who nevertheless leads his monks in the old ways. In the hands of the masterly Brian Moore, their confrontation becomes a subtle, provocative parable of doubt and faith.Loyola Classics are new editions of acclaimed Catholic novels.
Brian Moore (1921–1999) was born into a large, devoutly Catholic family in Belfast, Northern Ireland. His father was a surgeon and lecturer, and his mother had been a nurse. Moore left Ireland during World War II and in 1948 moved to Canada, where he worked for the Montreal Gazette, married his first wife, and began to write potboilers under various pen names, as he would continue to do throughout the 1950s.
The Lonely Passion of Judith Hearne (1955, now available as an NYRB Classic), said to have been rejected by a dozen publishers, was the first book Moore published under his own name, and it was followed by nineteen subsequent novels written in a broad range of modes and styles, from the realistic to the historical to the quasi-fantastical, including The Luck of Ginger Coffey, An Answer from Limbo, The Emperor of Ice Cream, I Am Mary Dunne, Catholics, Black Robe, and The Statement. Three novels—Lies of Silence, The Colour of Blood, and The Magician’s Wife—were short-listed for the Booker Prize, and The Great Victorian Collection won the James Tait Black Memorial Prize.
After adapting The Luck of Ginger Coffey for film in 1964, Moore moved to California to work on the script for Alfred Hitchcock’s Torn Curtain. He remained in Malibu for the rest of his life, remarrying there and teaching at UCLA for some fifteen years. Shortly before his death, Moore wrote, “There are those stateless wanderers who, finding the larger world into which they have stumbled vast, varied and exciting, become confused in their loyalties and lose their sense of home. I am one of those wanderers.”
a study of faith and the faithful, and why the faithful adhere to their faith. Moore's analytical tools are precisely calibrated so that neither side of the argument, if it can even be called that, is given unfair weight. on the one side we have the true believers: people who connect to the ceremony and mysticism, people whose attention span must be kept by shrouding worship in awe and mystery, people who think as a people rather than as individuals. clever Moore has that side led by a man who secretly has no faith. on the other side we have the modernizers: people who are engaged by the charitable acts and community building rather than the ceremony, people who see faith as a vehicle to improve lives and repel injustice, people who feel transparency is key to spreading the doctrine. Moore has that side led by a young company man with a rather agnostic but still revolutionary heart. neither side "wins" - modernity appears to hold the upper hand, but as any fool knows, the familiar and the awe-inspiring will both always hold magnetic appeal for the masses. the specific faith under scrutiny is Catholicism, although any faith could be substituted within his argument. but clearly Catholicism is key to Brian Moore, and so Catholics is the name of the story. having had faith rule my life for only a small but intense amount of time (although I cheerfully admit to still being a God-lover), it all felt like fantasy to me. thus my surprise upon realizing that the story is actually science fictional in nature, in the classic sense: take a current issue and speculate upon its potential for change by moving the topic to the near future.
perhaps all of the above makes this likable and often surprising novella sound dry. it is not! Moore is a warm, humorous writer with a good eye for detail and a strong ability to create a certain kind of atmosphere. his characterization skills are enviable. a compelling tale from start to finish.
In Moore's book, the monastery is led by an abbot who has lost his faith and visited by an emissary from Rome sent on a mission to bring the recalcitrant Abbey back into line. It seems that when the rest of the Church did away with the Mass as miracle and mystery and adopted the 'modern' view of it as a pious ritual, these rebellious monks held on to their ancient beliefs and practices. In fact, they even continued to allow (horror of horrors!) private confessions! Imagine that!
I found the premise interesting and appreciated the Questions for Reflection and Discussion at the end of the book. The book's major weakness was its all-or-nothing, overly simplistic approach to the many facets of liturgy, including issues involving liturgical reform, practices, language, worship, cultural variations, etc. While I appreciate the mammoth task Mr. Moore undertook, I'm not sure it's possible to do the subject justice in a novel of a little under 140 pages.
Nevertheless it is a book worth reading and a subject worth pondering. Graham Greene referred to Brian Moore as his "favorite living author".
One should be a Catholic or at least should know about the Catholicism. That is not exact qualification. The reader should be aware of Catholicism before and after The Second Vatican Council.
It is about:
As it is mentioned above it is a critical look into Catholicism before and after The Second Vatican Council, that brought many changes/reformation/revolutions. The Second Vatican Council is specially remembered for the Liturgical Changes that were brought into existence. For example, the old Latin Mass was changed into Vernacular Mass. Another important change was that people participated in the mass and the priest now faced the congregation in stead of facing the alter and showing his back to the community.
The main words used in The Second Vatican Council were: 'apertura' (Opening) and aggiornamento (Up to date). They were the mantras under which the changes were effected. This naturally brought lot of confusions among the simple folk who found it difficult to accept the changes in the Liturgy.
This is the premise for this novel. Using this premise Brian Moore questions aspects like faith, doubt, orthodoxy, doctrines, etc. Apparently he says that everything is decided by some men. There is nothing certain. Everything is relative. And to believe is to believe in changing concepts. He writes: "Yesterday's orthodoxy is today's heresy." Because a certain community not wanting to accept the Liturgical changes continues to celebrate Latin mass. And it is accused of heresy.
In another place he writes: "I think it would be a crime against the people's faith if we were forced to give up the old way..."
The story, however, is not that engaging. Usually Moore is known for writing engaging plots. But this was relatively a slow paced one. Besides, the enormous theme could not be treated in an intense way in such a short novella. It is here Moore failed and that is why he deserves only three stars for this book.
Catholicism and Moore:
This is the third book by Brian Moore that I read. He claims himself to be lapsed Catholic. But his novels are filled with Catholic ideas. Of course, most of them set in a challenging manner. He continuously questions the position of the Church in certain areas, or questions certain dogmas. But he is always struggling with Catholic principles. He has read well enough. He has searched for the reasons. These are very much visible in his writings.
For instance, in this novel he presents a character that questions the new changes. When he questions he also gives reasons for the old ways to consolidate his view.
Regarding Latin Mass: "The Mass in Latin, the priest with his back turned to the congregation because both he and the congregation faced the altar where God was.....And the Mass was said in Latin because Latin was the language of the church and the church was one and universal and a Catholic could go into any church in the world,...the only Mass there was, the Latin Mass. And if the Mass was in Latin and people did not speak in Latin, that was part of the mystery of it, for the Mass was not talking to your neighbor, it was talking to God."
I am here reminded of Evelyn Waugh, who found the liturgical changes brought in by The second Vatican Council very difficult to accept. He echoed the same sentiments 10 years before Brian Moore as the Council was in progress. Just an excerpt from Evelyn Waugh. About the use of vernacular for the Mass: "Certainly many cannot follow the Latin liturgy any more than an infant can understand the words which are spoken at his baptism. The flow of Grace is not impeded by vocabulary."
So, Brian Moore was very well aware of the positions of those who stood against any change in liturgy and he was also aware that the liturgical change brought about a great difficulty for the simple folks who could not accept easily a long standing practice.
Brian Moore's own words in the novel: "Aggiornamento, was that when uncertainty had begun? Changes of doctrine. Setting oneself up as ultimate authority."
Finally:
An interesting book for a Catholic. But the execution could have been better.
I recently went into the "chapel" in a local hospital. Designed, we suppose, to appeal to the transcendent/religious/spiritual sensibilities of everyone, without giving undo favor to any particular religion. A few years ago, we might have expected some stained glass, a candle or two, perhaps some pews where one could both pray silently and alone, or whisper with a friend. This one was decidedly "zen." A set of smooth stones with water trickling over them, no furniture. Two "chairs" were set into the wall, which were as uncomfortable as the ones in Woody Allen's "Sleeper." How odd, I thought, that they should choose a godless religion. I suppose if you want to make sure you do not endorse any particular dress code, the only style allowed would be to go naked.
No one would object. We've all be catechized by the movies - if Batman or some other hero is to "go spiritual" it will be some solitary meditation on a mountain top. Incarnational theology does not inspire.
So the custodians of Catholicism in the near-future, where this book is set, must have concluded. "Vatican IV" has decided to merge with the Buddhists in order to conform with the times. All prayers must be public and ecumenical, and "worship" is a time to "celebrate community", not to encounter God. Sounds kind of familiar, doesn't it?
One group of adherents has kept to the old ways - a group of monks on a windy island off the coast of Ireland. Fr. Kinsella, in a hip bomber jacket - the current fashion for priests - is dispatched to bring them into conformity with the non-conformity.
As people have pointed out, this is a very slender book. And it has a brisk pace, and does not shirk from looking into the controversy it has created. Kinsella is not portrayed as a shill, nor are the priests on the island depicted as saints. These are real questions, and an altogether likely future for those of us in this side of the pages. Good intentions could easily lead to this ecumenical vapidity.
I would love a discussion on the ending, which arrives suddenly, and rather tosses the question out of the pages into our laps. I am optimistic that the island fathers would not allow the gates of hell to prevail. Or did they?
Catholics offers superb writing applied to a subject that, because of its doctrinal specificity, will not be equally accessible to all readers. I was raised Catholic and learned the Mass in Latin first, then French and English, specifically because of the changes ushered in by Vatican II which drive Moore's novella. It was a really big deal to those whose devotion was linked to their Old World cultural heritage (Italian, French-Canadian, Irish). My childhood friends were drawn from these groups, and I made my First Communion with them, so this particular story made me quite nostalgic.
This novel is junk. It's sensationalism. It has more holes than a sieve. It was put together because its original premise (a Catholic dystopia of a secularized and militarized church) titillates. Brian Moore puts forth two incompatible lines of thought: an immoral dystopia and a central figure who has no belief when he is presented as the center of the resistance, and then the author leaves the ending in a sort of undetermined state, probably because the author himself is an atheist. Once the author has established the dystopia, the story line cannot tolerate moral ambiguity, and yet we are left with moral ambiguity. In addition, the novel is woefully underdeveloped, the characters are not much more than cartoon figures, the author violates a basic story-telling craft, such as holding back the critical detail of the central character’s personality until two thirds of the novel, and the novel then ends in a whimper. Bottom line: Don’t bother.
Let me take a crack at what I think Moore meant by this novel, and mind you that this is partially speculation because of the flaws I just mentioned.
Written in 1972, as the implementation of the reforms of the Second Vatican Council was causing tension in many parts of the Catholic world, this short novel uses a controversy over similar reforms in a future Church to explore issues of faith and religion, of certitude and doubt, of secularism and traditionalism, of descent and obedience. Despite being 50 years old, I found this to be a very thought provoking book. I appreciated Moore’s understated writing. 4.5 stars
Catholics is a slim, simply written novel that raises good questions on faith, Catholic-Christianity, obedience and all the things that are all the core tenets of the Catholic Church. Set in the future, the Fourth Vatican Council has gotten rid of private confession, clerical attire, the Latin Mass and all the primaries that one would associate with a Catholic identity. Yet, in the nether reaches off the Irish coast, there is a monastery-Muck Abbey-whose monks are not following the rules of law, as laid down by the pope and the curia at the Vatican. They are gentle rebels who are refusing to comply, because they believe in the traditional mysteries that have gone back aeons, laws and values laid down by God through Jesus Christ to His disciples. The monks are innocent practitioners of the beautiful, old ways of mystery, and because they refuse to cut the cord of the truth, as they believe it to be, they become, inadvertently (I believe) thorns in the you-know-what of the Vatican oligarchy. Because of that, they develop an international following, parishioners themselves who can't quite digest the lack of mystery, as established by the Fourth Vatican Council. The new rules seem too politically correct, extolling the ideology of secularization and relativism. The higher-ups are becoming more and more attracted to intense ecumenicalism as well, wanting to merge Buddhism with Catholicism, in effect, erasing its roots, the "Rock" that Jesus Christ told Peter the church would be built upon. For the nameless parishioners in this novel who are true readers of the Bible (God's Word willed to humanity), the radical changes are too extreme to be accepted, and thus, disobedience is a logical and intellectual act to embark upon. But because they are a flock-God's children-the Church has a role to see that they are not being led astray. And according to the Vatican, because the monks at Muck Abbey are not heeding the rabid new changes, they are hence, leading the flock astray. To rectify the issue, Fr. James Kinsella is dispatched to the abbey to reeducate the lot of them. Modern and free thinking, Fr. Kinsella is the embodiment of the "new" Catholic, a man who sees the mystery of prayer and sin as superstitious nonsense (he'd probably make a good Devil's Advocate) that is antiquated and best to be trounced upon when it is burgeoning. Though he is not a mean spirited man in any way, to me, he is a condescending intellectual who is a careerist who wants to climb the church ladder to something better. However, the best way to do that is to do the drudgery work that probably no one else wants to do. With that, he'll get promoted. On the opposite side of the spectrum, there is Tomas O'Malley, the abbot of Muck Abbey; he is gentle, fatherly, wizened and a man in a very difficult position. And his actions will have a wider impact that are too big to fully understand, for if he complies with the church hierarchy, it will look as if he's abandoning the mystery and superstition of life and the things that happen within its confines for political religiosity. If he defies the church, will he and his band of traditional monks be seen as martyrs to Catholic orthodoxy or minions of evil because they are not in tandem with a Church that God is passionate about? In dealing with this, Fr. O'Malley is also coping with his own doubts and privations; the religious passions are just not there. He is a robot going through the motions of things, and something needs to be triggered within himself. How appropriate that his name is Tomas, for he really comes off as the Doubting Thomas. One can not put off the battle between the two warring factions as the ultimate test from God, and that is how it must be seen; obedience is paramount, and for me that really is undigestible. I would probably tell Fr. Kinsella to go where the sun don't shine, but that is not a true manifestation of faith in this case, and that is why this book is so gloriously frustrating. It begs you to ask the question, What would you do? Christianity is hard! It asks for commitment through thick and thin (even if you don't agree). It challenges you to the core of what you think you really are versus what you truly are. I won't reveal the ending, but the truth is best spoken by Fr. O'Malley when he says, "Prayer is the only miracle. We pray. If our words become prayer, God will come." Page 132. Catholic or not, that is one truth that can never ever be altered.
2025 A strange little book. Sparse, quiet, nearly ascetic in its prose, but not lacking weight. Brian Moore’s “Catholics” is a meditation on belief, doubt, obedience, and the quiet death of mystery. It reads like a parable, but a parable set not in first century Judean vineyards, but on a fog soaked island off the coast of Ireland, somewhere between the old world and the new one we’re all still trying to get used to.
The premise is the monks of Muck Abbey still celebrate the Latin Mass in defiance of a fictional “Vatican IV,” which has scrubbed away nearly all ritual, mystery, and miracle from Catholicism. The Vatican sends Father Kinsella, a young, polished Jesuit from America, to shut it down. He arrives with briefcase in hand, a man of progress and polite authority. But underneath his modern veneer is a crisis not unlike that of the aging Abbot Thomas, who no longer believes but continues the old rites for the sake of the people.
There’s a temptation, for readers like me, to see this book as a battle cry for tradition. And in one sense, it is. The monks’ resistance to modernization feels noble. It reminds us that there’s a cost to relevance, and that sometimes what the world calls “progress” is just amnesia in new clothes. But Moore isn’t sentimental. He won’t let us off easy. The abbot’s faith is gone. The Mass has become performance. Even the old ways are hollowed out, beautiful, yes, but now filled with doubt.
In reading it, I was surprised by how much it reminded me of my own Catholic upbringing. Not so much the theology, but the atmosphere, the smell of candles, the rhythm of the liturgy, the kneeling and standing and silence. It was less a system of belief and more an identity, something ethnographic more than confessional. And yet, it shaped me. It still does. Let me also say, that this work remains one of my top ten favorite books of all time.
What do you do when obedience to the institution conflicts with what feels true? When the forms remain, but the faith behind them fades? These are live questions, not just for Catholics, but for all of us in the church catholic. The kind of questions that whisper through the walls of seminaries and in executive session meetings, questions we’d often rather ignore. I’ve found myself thinking about this book more and more in the wake of Francis’ death, and the conversations it’s sparked about what the future of the Catholic church will look like- what will remain, what will change, and what might quietly disappear.
Moore’s vision of a demystified church stings because it’s plausible. And his quiet portrayal of loss, the loss of certainty, of mystery, of place, hurts all the more because it happens in silence. No dramatic split. No public protest. Just men continuing on, quietly, unsure what to do next.
My personal Philosophy of Ministry is founded on an idea of reenchanting the church. And there’s a line from the book that lingers: “We have become a church without mystery.” That line ought to haunt us. Especially in an age where spectacle replaces sacrament, and the altar becomes a stage.
I wouldn’t assign “Catholics” for a theology class. But I might for a pastoral reading group. It’s not a systematic treatment, but it is a pastoral one. A literary mirror, held up to the Church in transition. And like all good mirrors, it shows more than we’d like to admit.
I obviously came to this reading with thoughts of the Catholic Church’s future on my mind. But this reading of Moore’s “Catholics” left me with more questions than answers. And maybe that’s the point. With each and every passing day, I find myself thinking less about theological and liturgical debates and more about the slow erosion of belief that can settle into our hearts unnoticed. Sometimes, we carry on with our rituals and routines because they are beautiful, even when our faith wavers. And yet, the grace of God meets us there. Not in our confidence, but in our need.
We minister in an age of crisis: not only of belief, but of imagination. People are hungry for transcendence, for rootedness, for something holy that doesn’t need to sell itself to be believed. This novel reminds me to ask not just “Are we doing things right?” but “Are we helping our people behold mystery?”
May we be the kind of shepherds who refuse to trade mystery for management, who guard the flickering candles of tradition not because they’re old, but because they’ve lit the way home for so many. And may we never forget that Christ still speaks, even when the church is quiet.
2022 This is for sure making my top 10 list of the year, and is for sure my top read of the fall so far.
This Novella is a critique on the dangers of syncretism in the church. This book is poignant, intelligent, and consuming.
This book angered me. Much like with his novel Black Robe, Moore is supposedly writing a fair and balanced approach to Catholicism and its interaction with secular (or in the case of Robe, native) society. What really comes through is his disdain for Catholicism and especially clerics/church hierarchy. It's clear that this writer is no friend to the Church, even though in both books he attempts to leave the crux of the stories ambiguous and let the reader determine what is being said. Now, that isn't a reason to claim that a book isn't literature or have literary merits, but I felt that he had constructed a straw man (the Church goes so off the rails as to combine forces with Buddhism, fall into moral relativism, and claim that the Eucharist is symbolic only) in order to grind his axe; Moore's feelings toward the Church are starkly revealed in his willingness to think the Church could fall into such apostasy. It's an unrelentingly grim story that presents the ultimate demise of Christianity (and with it the world).
Having said that: it is a well-written book and the characters/situation were interesting in a speculative sort of way. I haven't read a book this well-written that's made me viscerally angry in a long time. I give it three stars because of that. However, I don't think I will ever read any more Brian Moore.
I have been clearing out books - over 250 have gone and more to go. It has been interesting as along with all the “why did I ever buy this?” Thoughts I have found some gems I have no idea where they came from. Amongst them, this slither of a book from the 1970s by Brian Moore, an author I am completely unfamiliar with. I shall not be for long and will look out more of his works (no pun intended).
This is a tiny novella, that to tell you much about would be to tell you the whole story. In the smallest outline: It is about catholic monks in the face of changes in catholic practice and rules set down by the Vatican about the use of the Latin liturgy. Not much happens - but still it is a joy from start to finish.
I am not, by the way, a catholic and don’t think you need any understanding of the church to enjoy this. More it is about dealing with change when that change undermines everything you have believed in. Wonderful.
Catholics is a slim, smart book that turns on the dilemma posed by the mutually exclusive meanings of the word "catholic," mostly indicated by the capitalization (or lack thereof) of the "C." Nowadays, Catholic (capital C) denotes a specific form of Christianity; after the Reformation, Catholicism came to represent the traditional, orthodox ways of worship, such as the saying of the Latin Mass, and maintaining the doctrine of transubstantiation. Catholics (particularly Roman) rejected the Protestant Revolution and it's promise of a more universalizable (read: personal) Christianity.
From the Protestant point of view, Catholicism is unduly exclusive (therefore elitist) and retrograde. The great irony of this (or paradox, if you prefer) comes into view when we remember that the non-capitalized "catholic" derives from the Greek kath olou, literally "on the whole," which is used to denote the general, universality, commonness, entirety, etc. In other words the Catholic (Universal) church cannot really be said to be catholic at all anymore, at least not in the non-capital sense. Instead it has turned into its opposite, applicable to only a few, rather than the many.
The philosophical crux of Catholics can by summed up in one sentence uttered by the Abbot of Muck, the head of a small island monastery off the coast of Ireland, whose inhabitants are in violation of the new Papal (Catholic) law requiring ecumenical uniformity; they are in violation so long as they continue to say the Mass in Latin, and continue to hear private confessions. The unexpected popularity of their Masses (the last vestige of the old religion) is viewed as a threat to the Ecumenical Council in Rome, who are in negotiations with Bangkok to secure the apertura, i.e. "the interpenetration between Christian and Buddhist faiths." The Abbot of Muck muses: "Yesterday's orthodoxy is today's heresy."
This is a rather strange book, and it is oddly pertinent. I read this at the end of June, just after my own ordination to the priesthood, and it gave me much to ponder on considering the state of the Church.
The book is set in a not to distant future, in the aftermath of a Fourth Vatican Council which resulted in a raft of ecumenically minded reforms to the Liturgy. For example, normal devotions like Grace Before Meals have been eliminated and the understanding of the Mass as Sacrifice has been de-emphasized to the point of being relegated to the doctrinal broom closet, as it were. In this situation, the reader is introduced to a priest from Rome sent to Ireland to look into a group of Traditionalist Monks who have maintained such things as individual Confession and the use of Latin in their liturgical celebrations.
One could almost be forgiven if they picked this book up and thought that it was just published given the current Liturgy War which I believe is gearing up in the aftermath of Pope Francis' Motu Proprio Traditiones custodes, but it was actually written in the early 1970s, in the early part of the first round of the Liturgy Wars. I believe that what one should take away from this book is an appreciation for how important the rootedness of Faith and Devotion are to religious expression. Can one still have Faith when the worship of his ancestors has been completely uprooted? That question was running full bore in the aftermath of Vatican II, and I think it has raised its head again in the last few weeks. I do not believe the book offers an answer to that question and I do not venture to give one here, but the fact of the question's existence and its implications I believe make this book worth the read.
I'm not sure I can be objective in reviewing Catholics. Rather than reading it for the first time, I was re-reading a book I had loved when in college, some decades ago.
My introduction to the book was an exercise in a creative writing class, in which we manually copied a particularly beautiful passage, as a way of learning, word by word, how Moore created powerful images with a few carefully chosen words.
I was concerned whether the book would live up to my memories of it, as I had not revisited it in at least 20 years. I found, though, that I appreciated Moore's craftsmanship more than ever. I found myself constantly marveling at the power of his prose, at turns of phrase that expressed a great deal in a deceptively simple (and yes, very Irish) way.
This is not a book for those looking for big plots and clear resolution. It is largely a story of internal conflict, with a great deal of Catholic theology thrown in. In fact, a little understanding of Vatican II is very helpful. (A quick glance at Wikipedia is enough, though I'm sure a deeper understanding would bring even greater rewards.)
Catholics is a book that rewards a slow, thoughtful reading, both to appreciate Moore's evocative prose, and to better understand what drives the various characters.
What the what? I read it too quickly, and on a plane, so I felt kind of like a fool when it finally slapped me upside the head that this was a futuristic dystopia. Vatican IV! Transubstantiation and private confession has gone by the wayside because it's too "icky" and ridiculous! A stalwart of tradition bucking heads with the new world order!
The book is beautifully written in that spare, modern way that was so popular in the 70s. It's what they call a "slim volume," and like all modern literature, ends with a poignant hiccup that leaves you unfulfilled in that oh-so-fulfilling way. (I'm a sucker for this, I admit; blame my creative writing degree.)
I confess (in direct contravention of Vatican IV): I picked this up because some kind soul in the Wall Street Journal told me to. I might have to go through it again, because to be honest, I'm not really sure who won in this battle of tradition versus enlightenment. Maybe me?
In the not-too-distant future, the Catholic church puts in a place in a new set of standards, mostly based on Vatican II. One tiny, lonely, Irish island monestary sticks to the old ways.
I'm not sure what he was trying to say here. Clealry, there was no revolution or counter revolution on the brink of breaking out - just a group of men very distrubed to see thier fairth taken away. Is this book about faith? Dogma? Globalization? Or just the same old story of the fear/anger/sadness felt by those who see thier world slipping away as they grow old and the rest of the world moves on without them?
"Si com Jesuitas, non com Jesu itas." Make no mistake. This is not a Catholic novel. It isn't even a novel for theists. Brian Moore, a lapsed Catholic born in Northern Ireland, was the exact opposite of Graham Greene. Whereas Greene put his Christian characters through enormous physical and spiritual trials to reinvigorate their faith Moore is certain even "Jesus Christ had his moments of doubt and pain (Jagger/Richards)" and His followers, and Moore's characters abandon Christianity the moment faith ceases to be relevant in whatever world they are trapped. CATHOLICS is a counterfactual novel where "the lunatics have seized control of the asylum"; in this case, the Vatican. In some near future Vatican Council IV puts the Church in the hands of politically engaged, one might even say hip, priests, brothers and nuns. One such radical priest is sent to a small island off the coast of Ireland to stamp out "traditionalist heresy" only to shake the faith of the local monks. Moore's masterpiece, and to be read alongside BLACK ROBE and NO OTHER LIFE.
Very thought provoking, this story will make you question your beliefs and your faith. It examines change for the sake of the times and the adherence to avoiding change and following tradition. Abbott Tomas must decide to adhere to the dictates of the Pope and the Vatican, trusting in their wisdom and judgement or follow the path of hundreds of years of tradition. It’s natural to resist change and difficult to conform.
“He believes there can be a future for Christianity, provided it gets rid of God.”
Seven years after the close of Vatican II, Brian Moore published the novella Catholics. Its story is set in the near future and concerns an abbey on a small island off Ireland’s Atlantic coast where the monks have defied Vatican IV and continued, among other things, to conduct Latin Mass and private confessions. An emissary from Rome is sent to deliver a letter of rebuke and insure compliance with the Church’s new standards, which seem to place all their value on ecumenicism, social justice, and “progressive” wagers on the future.
Moore’s storytelling here is deft and fluid. Like the best novellas, Catholics keeps its focus tight and doesn’t deviate into subplots. Moore gets his religious idea across without heavy-handedness, beginning with a sense of mystery and then delivering the ideas, like clues, a little at a time. There is a single monologue of two pages, in the middle of the book, that summarizes the heart of the issue, and all other discussion ripples out from this.
Brian Moore, nel suo Cattolici, immagina una piccola comunità relegata su un'isola al largo della costa irlandese. Un luogo inaccessibile, quasi respingente. Le montagne, il mare e i venti contrari: la natura sembra lottare per tenere fuori tutti gli altri, dentro soltanto loro. E loro sono i monaci dell'abbazia di Muck. I monaci hanno sempre vissuto nel rispetto della dottrina così come la chiesa l'aveva concepita. Ma un nuovo Concilio Vaticano, il IV, impone un cambio di rotta: Roma esige un cattolicesimo teso al secolarismo, la confessione individuale deve essere abolita e la messa tradotta nella lingua di ogni popolo. I religiosi di Muck non condividono le ragioni del cambiamento e scelgono di restare fedeli al rito tradizionale, attirando l'attenzione di turisti e televisioni di tutto il mondo. Il Vaticano invia padre Kinsella al monastero con il compito di condurre il gregge sperduto d'Irlanda sulla nuova e più retta via.
In the not-to-distant future Vatican Council IV as moved from "aggiorniamento" to "aperta", and for the first time the Catholic Church and Buddhism are in ecumenical talks for interpenetration. The only threat to this initiative is one small monastery whose use of the Tridentine mass has embarrassingly drawn thousands of pilgrims who long for the old ways. The Vatican sends one of it's new breed of priests: social justice crusaders who don't believe in God to command them to obedience.
His visit is the essence of the scaremongering tale.
Frankly, this book was incredible, in the sense of "utterly unbelieveable". The author projects his fears onto a bleak future, and produces this reactionary (in the worst sense of the word) work. (And I'm a fan of the Tridentine mass!) Very quick read.
Recommended for modern Catholics who want a sense of the fear that many experienced as a result of the Second Vatican Council. Not recommended for others.
I liked the writing in this book, and as I started reading it, I had high hopes. However, I just felt that it lacked any real sense of transcendence that I was looking/hoping for. I can make guesses as to the state of mind the author was trying to protray at the end, but for me it just really fell flat and lacked the redeeming quality I might have hoped for in the ending. I would probably give it 2 & 1/2 stars if I could.
I can’t remember exactly when I read this but it really makes you think. It’s a kind-of-dystopia book where the Latin Mass, private confessions, and clericals have been banned by the Catholic Church, and a young priest is sent from the Vatican to a monastery in Ireland to make sure they obey these rules. It’s really short, I think it was less than one hundred pages, but I highly recommend.
Books set in monasteries I tend to love, but I felt that this book was curiously lacking in real presence. Too short, I would say. I didn't really get a sense of character much, and I think the argument on religion is a bit farfetched and does not add anything new.
As a Catholic, I found this book as relevant today as when it was written. There are still Catholic laypeople who want the Mass to be said in Latin and I have been to Mass where the priest spoke in English but faced away from the people. I think any religious practice is a spectrum of the faith. There are more orthodox practitioners and more secular or contemporary. Although, I found the writing here to be less engaging than I would have liked, I did find that some of the discussion about the direction of the Church to be thought provoking. It certainly opens the door to some interesting discussions. I could see reading this for a religious based book club.
The book description promises much, but doesn't deliver. In the second half the narrative falls totally flat. For one, Moore inserts mundane details and redundant fillers that have nothing to do with the advancement of the plot. In a novel of this brevity that's a big faux pas. For another, when we finally get to the much anticipated meeting with the Abbot and Fr. Kinsella, one would expect at least some fireworks, some carefully placed zingers, or perhaps even a few lines of St. Thomas Aquinas versus milquetoast kumbaya. Instead we get something akin to a whimper. There are penny-dreadfuls that are better developed.
The latest Vatican Council has abolished many traditions of the Catholic Church: private confession, Roman robes and collar, the Latin Mass, and has opened discussions about a merger with Buddhism. This does not go over well with a group of monks in Ireland who cling to the old ways. Rome sends Father Kinsella to reign in the flock. There he he meets Abbot Tomas, a man plagued by doubt who leads the monks. Their interaction of doubt and faith creates an interesting story.
Catholics by Brian More could be read in one sitting. It's a short book and the story is simple. Some monks on an island off the coast of Ireland are the only people holding on to Latin and pre-Vatican II liturgy. It is set in the future--after a Vatican IV.
Father Kinsala is sent to put a stop to the old Mass and Latin. You would think that the monks would put up a fight to keep the old ways that they love. You would be wrong.
The monks are obedient. Father Abbot has lost his faith. He feels he is just a manager of a corporation and Corporate has told him to change direction. He does. He makes the other monks obey him.
What rubbed me the wrong way was that I always thought Catholics were "both and people." Both liturgical rites would be accommodated along with Latin. Not in this book.
Brian Moore is described as "Graham Greene's favorite writer" in this edition's bio. Moore seems to be a rather forgotten writer these days, but this novella had me hooked immediately -- could not recall the ending although almost certain I read it when I was young. There's a film version with Trevor Howard, Martin Sheen, Cyril Cusack-- determined to revisit that now.
The premise of the novel is that a young American priest has been dispatched to a remote monastery off the coast of Kerry. His mission: to insist that the abbot comply with modernized doctrine (no more Latin Mass, etc.). The monks continued practice of Latin Mass and old school confessions have attracted not only pilgrims but media attention, and Church leadership wants it stopped. Moore excels at setting up the characters and the clash of cultures and values without falling into cliché, and in some respects, the reader's expectations are likely to be subverted. I felt the influence of this book on many others--some Irish, some not-- Fowles' The Ebony Tower, Ishiguro's The Remains of the Day, and most recently, Barry's Beatlebone-- although I don't mean that influence in a strictly literal sense. What I mean is that all of those books seem to be having similar conversations with themselves, with each other, and with the reader, and they are deeply compelling conversations about what it means for human beings to sustain convictions in the face of mystery (mystery of faith, mortality, connection). I also wondered if Claire Keegan has read Moore, I feel some connection there as well-- with form and prose especially. I found this book very difficult to put down and read most of it today-- a novella, really. Not sure that I was ready for it to be over.