Religious ministers are far more imaginative sinners than politicians, Times columnist Matthew Parris has discovered. Runaway Bishops and naughty vicars are a staple of today's tabloid newspapers, but as he reveals in THE GREAT UNFROCKED, they're only a part of the tradition of colorful clerics dating back centuries. The author's funny and well-researched study draws heavily on many previously unpublished sources and offers engaging proof that people don't always practise what they preach.
What is the point of this book? This was a question with which I struggled throughout the reading of it, only to discover at the end that the author had no solution himself. Clearly, Matthew Parris wanted to find out why the “Great British Public” rather enjoy scandals in which the religious establishment is embarrassed. The answer, of course, is exactly that. The religious establishment is embarrassed. The problem is that some of the cases that he cites would be irrelevant to his argument, if he had one. IF he had confined himself to scandals in the Church of England, the established church, he may have been able to get close to the truth. Pope Joan, for instance, is irrelevant to his argument, mainly because there is no contemporary evidence, or near contemporary (that is within a few hundred years) evidence that she actually existed. Of course, Calvinist propagandists, like Filips Marnix van St. Aldegonde, had a field day with the need to inspect the Papal genitals to prevent the election of a woman, but this does not make any of it true. Matthew Parris, to his credit, says that. What is not to his credit is the number of inaccuracies that have crept into the text. Charles II was not married to Queen Caroline. His wife was the Portuguese princess, Catherine of Braganza. James II of England was not overthrown by William II, who was killed in the New Forest in 1100AD. James II was replaced by his son-in-law and nephew, William III. There was no George IV in 1819, mainly because his father George III did not die until the following year. There is no Cathedral in Wales called Landaff. It is Llandaff, the monastic church of St. David, and the mis-spelling changes the meaning of the word, fortunately not to something rude. These are the mistakes that I spotted over 256 pages. This lackadaisical approach to factual accuracy makes it impossible to trust any fact in this book. This may not be the fault of the author, but a fault in the editorial process as typographical errors were not picked up at the proof-reading stage (if there was one). My point, however, is that the book is untrustworthy gossip. Even the gossip is not that much fun. There comes a point when you lose interest in pone insignificant cleric after another (and I grant that there are some significant ones, like the occasional Bishop) falling a victim of scandal because they slept with someone (man, woman or child) that they should not have done. Moreover, the paedophilia, which is a hugely significant issue, is glossed over because it is not funny. There are parts of the book which are enjoyable, replete with schadenfreude, but I was left wondering one simple question: why was this book written? I regret that my conclusion was this: it will sell.
Picking (equally) upon The Church Of England, Catholics, Christian Fundamentalists, etc, this is an entertaining collection of wayward church officials. From Judas Iscariot, up through the 1990's, this collection includes dozens of fraud-artists, cross-dressers, philanderers, pedophiles, thieves, hypocrites, and even a murderer or two. I never really understood the Jim & Tammy Faye Baker debacle until I read this book. It was a fun read - in a National Enquirer/Shadenfreude kind of way.