A Handful of Dust (1988)

 

Note:  I updated this post on 2-15-2024 to add the image and hopefully improve my statements about fallen human nature.

Directed by Charles Sturridge and produced by Derek Granger -- both of Brideshead Revisited fame --  A Handful of Dust is a made-for-television film based on a novel by Evelyn Waugh.  It is available in DVD format.

The story is set sometime between the two world wars. Tony Last (James Wilby) is the squire of a British country estate, Hetton,  on which rests his ancestral home.  (Although it is not clear from the movie, the novel describes Hetton as a former abbey.  One supposes it came into Last's family's hands during Henry VIII's dissolution of the monasteries.  Afterward, it went through various structural changes and was redone in the neo-Gothic style during the 19th century.)

Tony loves Hetton and sacrifices a great deal to maintain it in the condition and use he believes befits it and his family history.  Yet, aside from the many servants, the only occupants are Tony, his son John Andrew, and his physically lovely but shallow wife, Brenda (Kristin Scott Thomas).  Tony is an attentive father, kind to the servants, and magnanimous to the villagers but has little interest in entertaining "gossips" from the city or spending time in London.

In response to a very casual invitation from Tony, a young man of poor means and remote social acquaintance, John Beaver (Rupert Graves), shows up at Hetton one weekend with the blessing of his opportunistic mother (Judi Dench).  Brenda does not hesitate long in letting Beaver know how little she cares for Hetton and how bored she is with Tony.

Beaver is more than willing to encourage Brenda and before long Brenda embarks on a campaign to make Beaver her plaything.  Brenda fancies Beaver and the idea of grooming him for her own pleasure appeals to her.  Rarely has a woman in book or film been so lacking in scruples about adultery or this particular form of it.  Brenda's eagerness and Beaver's mother's encouragement soon overcome Beaver's mild resistance to being bought, paid for, and trained.

Brenda takes a flat in London to facilitate her affair with Beaver and claims to take up the study of economics in order to justify her long stints in London.  Everyone in their social circle knows what is going on but no one tells Tony. One weekend Brenda goes home to sleep with Tony to keep him happy.  Naively, Tony responds with a heart-breaking gratitude.

When the couple's son, John Andrew, is tragically killed in a horse-riding accident on the day of a fox hunt, Brenda is initially relieved that the John who has died is her son John Andrew, not her lover John Beaver.  Soon there is a complete breakdown of Tony and Brenda's marriage and Brenda demands a divorce.  Tony, with predictable decency, agrees not only to the divorce but to take on the role of the adulterer for legal purposes.  But, when Tony discovers that Brenda's demands are such that he would have to give up Hetton in order to meet them, Tony finally understands that -- as he aptly puts it -- he would be giving up Hetton to buy Beaver for Brenda.  At that point, Tony has finally reached his limit.

The story then makes a very abrupt shift from realism to something closer to surrealism.  Abandoning the legal proceedings so as not to surrender Hetton, Tony goes to the jungle of South America with an eccentric explorer who claims to "know the Indian mind" and has brought along mechanical mice to charm the natives.  Unfortunately, the explorer does not know the Indian mind well enough to stay alive in the jungle and Tony is soon at the mercy of -- and imprisoned by -- a local chief "Mr. Todd" (Alec Guinness) who is half English and half native.  Todd is an illiterate who forces Tony to read volume after volume of Dickens to him.

It is very difficult to make the leap from the first to the second part of the story until one comprehends the theme that ties the two together -- the dark side of fallen man.  The Guinness character's use of Tony for his own pleasure is not a great deal different than Brenda's use of Beaver for hers.  The natives' festivities are only superficially unlike those of the London socialites.

The women in the story are particularly loathsome. Brenda is having her sole (yes, the bottom of her foot, not her soul) read by a fortune teller at a women's party in London when the news arrives that John Andrew is dead.  Tony seeks consolation from a rather ghoulish American woman ("Mrs. Rattery") who had flown her own plane into Hetton the day of the accident.  She is a mother who has abandoned her children or lost them to their father's custody. The best she can do is insist that Tony play a child's card game with her. A girl astride a motor scooter is part of the congestion that produces the accident that causes the death of John Andrew.   An ugly native woman bargains roughly with the explorer and demands cigarettes of Tony. The prostitute who is supposed to pose as Tony's partner in adultery during the divorce effort at Brighton is too lazy to even do the job she's been hired for. She brings along her daughter and the daughter too is rude and demanding. The only appealing (and womanly) woman in the entire story is the nanny who tenderly selects the clothing for John Andrew's burial.

Of the wealth packed away in this story and this film, more is revealed on subsequent viewings.  And for me at least, there is more to be revealed.  That is, I am still trying to make sense of the presence of foxes at different points in the story.  Brenda wears fox fur stoles in different colors throughout the film. At the very end of the film, the foxes are white and they are in cages. Brenda is shown them and looks at them wistfully.  I suspect the foxes are an allusion to the Canticle of Canticles 2:15, "Catch us the little foxes that destroy the vines:  for our vineyard hath flourished."  The Church understands the foxes to be false teachers that seek to destroy the vineyard of the Lord, i.e. the Church.

Ultimately, A Handful of Dust is a parable about original sin, concupiscence, and man's need for redemption.  Tony's goodness is a natural goodness uninformed by an adult religiosity. Tony is an Anglican who loved to take John Andrew to church on Sunday and sing the hymns but he did not want to talk with the vicar about religion after John Andrew died.  Later, when asked, Tony said he guessed he believed in God but he had not thought much about it.

The novel A Handful of Dust was published four years after Waugh converted to Catholicism.  Waugh does not preach, but the sermon is there in the form of Hetton: as its label indicates, neo-Gothic architecture was inspired by the medieval period.  And, of course, it was during the Middle Ages that authentic Christianity most thoroughly imbued society.  In clinging to Hetton, Tony is unconsciously clinging to the Church, which alone possesses the cure for wounded human nature.

           

The Quiet American (1958)

The Quiet American (1958) is a black and white film directed and produced by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, who also wrote the screenplay.  It is based on a novel of the same name by Graham Greene and was followed by a remake in 2002.

The motion picture stars Audie Murphy as the American, Michael Redgrave as Thomas Fowler, Giorgia Moll as Phuong, and Claude Dauphin as the French police inspector, Vigot.

A multi-layered story with political intrigue, a detective story, and a romantic triangle, the film opens with the death by drowning of the American, an event that occurs during the Chinese New Year's celebration in Saigon, Vietnam, in 1952.  The story is then told for the most part in flashbacks related by Fowler as Inspector Vigot investigates and questions Fowler and probes into events leading up to the death.

Fowler is a cynical, aging British newspaper correspondent who is ostensibly covering the conflict between the French colonial and Vietnamese imperial forces on the one side, and the Communist rebels on the other. In fact, Fowler works very little and sends his assistant, Dominguez, to the battle zone in his stead. And, although Fowler has a wife back home in England, he lives with Phuong, a beautiful young Vietnamese woman who was formerly a paid "dining and dancing partner" at an establishment called the Rendezvous.

Fowler's assistant, Dominguez, is an enigmatic character whose nationality is not revealed in the film and who is an entirely different person in the book.  Since it eventually comes to light that Dominguez is a Communist, the implication is perhaps that he is a Cuban.

The American (who is nameless in the film, but called Alden Pyle in the novel) is an idealistic young aid worker for a group called Friends for Free Asia.   Influenced by the writings of a political scientist, York Harding, the American is convinced that the answer for Vietnam is the formation of a "Third Force", an alternative to either the preservation of the monarchy/ colonialism or the imposition of Communism.

The American, Fowler, and Phuong become acquainted one evening at the Hotel Continental (a well-known landmark in Saigon in real life), and dine together at the Rendezvous.  While the American and Phuong dance, leaving Fowler to order dinner for the three of them, Phuong's sister, Miss Hei, seizes the opportunity to question Fowler about the American.   Thus begins a campaign by Miss Hei to marry Phuong off to the American, who is more than willing since he has already fallen in love with Phuong.

At the behest of Dominguez, Fowler reluctantly travels north to the battle zone.  To the amazement of the French military, the other correspondents, and Fowler, the American suddenly appears, having driven a Red Cross jeep there from Hanoi for the purpose of telling Fowler that he has fallen in love with Phuong, wants to court her, and wants to be straightforward with Fowler.  The American also brings Fowler a cable forwarded by Dominguez saying that the newspaper has called Fowler home to England.

A couple of weeks later, Fowler returns to Saigon.  Dominguez picks him up at the airport and begins planting suspicions that the American is involved in political machinations. Fowler, however, is more worried about whether the American is engaged in romantic intrigue with Phuong. When Fowler returns to his apartment, Phuong admits she has been seeing the American, but always in the company of Miss Hei.

The American and his dog, Duke, come to visit.  The American proclaims his love for Phuong and his desire to court and marry her.  The encounter upsets Phuong.  She does not actually reject the American but assures Fowler she will remain with him even after Fowler tells her he must return to England.  Then in an effort to compete with the American, Fowler writes to his wife asking for a divorce, knowing in advance that she will not agree because she is a devout believer (high church Anglican.)

Because of the political potentialities of the 25,000-member private Army of the Cao Dai syncretistic religious sect, Fowler and other journalists travel to the sect's "Holy See" at Tay Ninh for the annual Cao Dai festival. There, Fowler sees the American speaking with an associate of General Thé, the former Cao Dai chief of staff, now a renegade from the sect.

After the press conference, the men must return to Saigon before nightfall because of the danger of insurgent attacks at night. The American's automobile has been tampered with and will not start. Fowler offers the American a ride back to Saigon.  Part way, Fowler's automobile, which has been drained of gasoline, runs out near a French watchtower.  The men take refuge in the tower with two young Vietnamese soldiers.  The Communists attack and Fowler is injured attempting to escape.  The American saves Fowler's life by carrying him to safety, then locates a French patrol to take Fowler for medical care.

After a stay in the hospital, Fowler returns to Saigon and hears back from his wife.  He lies to Phuong, telling her that the wife has agreed to a divorce.  Phuong shows the letter to Miss Hei, who knows English.  The truth is revealed and Phuong leaves Fowler for the American.

Meanwhile, Dominguez and a Chinese Communist assassin, Heng, convince Fowler that the American is providing explosives to General Thé as part of a scheme to build the Third Force.  After a deadly bombing in the center of Saigon that is very likely perpetrated by the Communists but blamed on General Thé, Heng proposes that Fowler set up the American for assassination.  Fowler is initially hesitant but after learning that Phuong will soon be leaving for America, he suddenly resolves to cooperate in the assassination plot.

The American is killed and Phuong returns to work at the Rendezvous. Vigot investigates, questions Fowler, and arrests Heng and Dominguez. Fowler's wife belatedly writes that she will agree to the divorce after all and Fowler's paper permits him to remain in Saigon for the time being. Nevertheless, Phuong refuses to reconcile with Fowler who, in the end, is left entirely alone and bereft of any dignity.

Michael Redgrave and Audie Murphy were well cast for their roles. Redgrave skillfully portrays the selfish sarcastic persona of Fowler while at the same time managing to invite a modicum of pity for his character because he reveals the character's underlying psychological fragility.  As for Audie Murphy, he is quite believable as the American, a role for which his personal history fit him very well since he was the most-decorated veteran of World War II.

A lot has been said about the real historical persons and events alluded to in the film, about the war in Vietnam that occurred after the novel, and about the similarities and differences between Greene's novel, Mankiewicz's screenplay, and the 2002 remake. Overall, the 2002 version is not more faithful to the novel as its enthusiasts claim.  In any event, I much prefer Mankiewicz's 1958 film to either the novel or the 2002 film.

What I find most interesting is the film's exploration of how a man's ability to reason and make moral judgments can be undermined by his passions.  In the act of betraying the American, who has saved his life, Fowler reads aloud a passage from Shakespeare's Othello where Iago says, "Though I perchance am vicious in my guess (As, I confess, it is my nature's plague To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy Shapes faults that are not)". (Act III, Scene 3.)

Nevertheless, Fowler fails to heed the caution suggested by the passage.  He is so unsettled by the impending loss of Phuong that, despite his sophistication and journalistic training, Heng and Dominguez have easily manipulated him into believing that the American is providing General Thé with an explosive named "Diolacton" -- a substance that is fictional in the story as well as in real life -- and Fowler proceeds with the betrayal, then leaves it up to the God he does not believe in to intervene.

Moreover, Fowler's moral culpability is compounded by the fact that he does not truly love Phuong.  After Fowler lies, telling Phuong that his wife is going to permit a divorce, he treats Phuong peremptorily, ordering her about.  And, he tells the American that he does not care about Phuong's "interests".  Rather he just wants her and wants her with him.

One of the many ironies of the story is that while Fowler is loathe to return to England with the monotonous predictability of "the Press Club and the number 78 bus", he has embedded himself into a safe little world with Phuong that is just as narrow, if a bit more exotic.  And, the prospect of that world being torn apart is as shattering to Fowler as the prospect of losing predictable comforts would be to the most timid and banal of the Londoners Fowler disdains.  It is Phuong who dreams of a wider world with her picture books of America and England.

Another irony is that while Fowler sees the American as dangerously naive and foolish, the American sees Fowler as the one who is "truly innocent" because of his lack of self-knowledge and the degree to which his emotions obscure his perceptions.  Before his death, the American  (an Episcopalian) encourages Fowler to examine his conscience and suggests religion as a remedy for his spiritual affliction.  Inspector Vigot (a Roman Catholic) makes the same suggestions after the American's death.  Even when Fowler realizes he has been duped and has pronounced a private death sentence based on insufficient evidence, however, he persists in his atheism.  The end result is that he is left without absolution and without hope.

The film presents religion and morality in a positive light and adultery in a negative light.  There is no nudity, profanity, or vulgarity, and there are no bedroom scenes. I give the 1958 version five roses.

Journal d'un curé de campagne (1951)

This is the second part of a two-part review of the novel and film Journal d'un curé de campagne (Diary of a Country Priest) by Georges Bernanos and Robert Bresson respectively. An earlier post focused on the 1936 book by Bernanos. Today's is about the 1951 film, written and directed by Robert Bresson.

Bresson was born on September 25, 1901, at Bromont-Lamothe, Puy-de-Dôme, and educated at Lycée Lakanal à Sceaux, Paris. Before becoming a film director he was a painter and a photographer. During World War II, he spent over a year in a prisoner-of-war camp. He made thirteen feature-length films, often using non-professional or little known actors. In 1967, he made a film based on another Bernanos book, Mouchette. Bresson died in Paris on December 18, 1999.

Bresson's script for the film is for the most part quite faithful to the book. We see the Curé's diary and hear its contents in the voice of the Curé. Dialogue is used so sparingly that the viewer finds himself in a unique psychological and aesthetic space between a silent film and a talking picture. Music is used rarely but to good effect.

Bresson's fidelity to the novel makes visually and audibly present the various events in the Curé's Way of the Cross that were described in the review of Bernanos' book. As in the book, however, the allusions are subtle and one's recognition of them is belated. Critic André Bazin was aware of this aspect of the work and described it as liturgical.

The visuals are without exception exquisitely beautiful, in black and white. Much attention is given to the facial expressions, body language, and movements of Claude Laydu, who plays the Curé.

The casting and performances of the Count, the Countess, Louise, Chantal, Seraphita, and even the very minor characters are without exception flawless, as are the settings and camera work. A psychiatrist in real life plays the priest of Torcy and he is entirely believable. Marie-Monique Arkell is perfect as the Countess. The encounter between the Curé and the Countess where he fights for her soul could not be better.

It is said that Bresson would only cast a faithful Catholic for the role of the Curé and that Laydu lived with a group of young priests prior to the filming so he could acquire their gestures and movements. It is also said that Laydu fasted during the filming in order to lend credibility to the role. One wonders whether he also fasted for spiritual reasons. Toward the end of the film Laydu merges so completely with the character that one beholds a man who is as entirely spiritualized as one can be in this life. And, one feels a deep gratitude to Laydu for the sacrifices he made for the sake of the film.

In various reviews and the commentary, much nonsense is said about Bernanos, Bresson, and the film. Particularly annoying are those claiming that Bresson was a Jansenist heretic or an agnostic. Significantly, none of these claims include a direct statement by Bresson that he was either. A single viewing of the film is enough to conclude that no agnostic would -- or could -- have made it. Moreover, Bresson closes the film with the actual words used by Bernanos, "Tout est grâce". ("All is grace"). No Jansenist would make such a statement.

The Jansenist view of grace is a withholding one, where God metes out grace to a chosen few, overwhelming their free will, while leaving the vast majority of humanity unredeemed. The phrase "all is grace" was taken by Bernanos from the lips of the Little Flower, Thérèse of Lisieux (1873-1897). One of the major reasons the Little Flower was so beloved during the first half of the twentieth century was that her view of grace was such an effective antidote for the residual poison of Jansenism. By adopting her language, Bernanos and Bresson clearly rejected the heresy of Jansenism. Those who claim otherwise should be ignored.

In her 1937 translation of Bernanos' book into English, Pamela Morris exchanged "Grace is everywhere" for "Tout est grâce". To say "grace is everywhere" is in keeping with scripture. "And where sin abounded, grace did more abound." (Romans 5:20.) Thus, Morris' statement is theologically correct. It is not, however, a direct translation of what Bernanos, Bresson, or the Little Flower actually said.

What did Bernanos, Bresson, and Little Flower mean by "all is grace"? Speaking concretely, all is definitely not grace. To make this statement with the intention that it be taken literally would be to promote the heresy of pantheism, i.e. "everything is God", but surely this was not the intention.

The key to Bernanos' and Bresson's use of the phrase is found in a striking moment in the film. The Curé is struggling for the Countess' soul. She refers to her husband's infidelities and then says, "There's nothing in my past to blush about." To this, the Curé replies, "Blessed is sin if it teaches us shame." (This is very similar to the portrayal of the event in the novel.) The Curé does not mean that the sin itself is a blessing but rather that it is a blessing if the sin brings about humility and repentance in the individual. This too is consistent with scripture, "And we know that to them that love God, all things work together unto good, to such as, according to his purpose, are called to be saints." (Romans 8:28.)

Thus, Bernanos' and Bresson's use of "tout est grâce" should be understood to mean that grace is always and everywhere present -- along with what is not grace -- even though one might not be able to perceive it. With spiritual maturation, one's vision is enlarged to see the presence of grace in past and current circumstances -- a vision that becomes complete for the Curé as he lies dying.

With each repeated viewing of Bresson's exquisite film, one's experience of it deepens; its meaning -- and Bernanos' -- penetrates farther into one's interiority. The riches of this beautiful story and film are seemingly inexhaustible.

The film is available in DVD format from the Criterion Collection and can be purchased from the usual outlets.

Image:
Ruysdael's "After the Rain", from the Web Gallery of Art. In the public domain.

A Prayer for Priests

Part II of the review of the book by Georges Bernanos and the film by Robert Bresson, Diary of a Country Priest, will not be posted this week as promised because another week or two will be required to complete it.

This prayer for priests, however, is very much in keeping with the theme of the book and film and therefore is offered here for both prayer and reflection:

A Prayer for Priests

"IN THE NAME OF THE MOST HOLY TRINITY, Father, Son and Holy Ghost, we beseech Thee, O Christ, Eternal High Priest, that Thou keep hidden within the Wound in Thy Heart Thy priests whom Thou hast ordained to Thy Eternal Priesthood.

"Preserve them, protect them as the dispenser of the mysteries of God and keep them faithful in their mission as Thy expiatory victims for the sins of men. Together with Thee, O Christ, are they continually offered on Thy Altar on High in the sight of the Father, a propitiation of love rising as incense from men to God. Ever increase in Thy faithful priest-victims Thy power to draw all hearts into Thy Own that Thou mayest perfect Thy work of grace among the sons of God, whose inheritance is the Kingdom of Heaven.

"Have pity, O Christ, on those of Thy priviliged ones who have strayed from Thy Heart and torn open the Wound in Thy Side by their infidelity to Thee. Release upon them the torrents of Thy love and compassion, drowning their souls in Thy ocean of mercy that they may not escape. Draw them back into the fullness of the Life and the Light that is of God. Amen."

"IMPRIMATUR
+Henry J. O'Brien, D.D., Archbishop of Hartford, April 1, 1959".

Source:
Prayers for Priests, compiled by John Bosco Books, 1994. All rights reserved.

Image:
El Greco's "Agony in the Garden". From Web Gallery of Art. In the public domain.

Diary of a Country Priest (Bernanos, 1936)

This is the first part of a two-part review of the 1936 novel by Georges Bernanos, Journal d'un curé de campagne (Diary of a Country Priest), and the 1951 film by director Robert Bresson based on the novel.

Bernanos was awarded the Grand Prix du Roman de L'Académie française for the novel, while Bresson's film won eight international awards, including the Grand Prize at the Venice International Film Festival.

Bernanos and Bresson were both French Catholics. Bresson also made a film based on another book by Bernanos, Mouchette. This post will focus on the book Diary of a Country Priest. Part II will focus on Bresson's film of the same name. Perhaps sometime in the future there will also be a post on Mouchette.

Bernanos was born on February 20, 1888, in Paris, and spent most of his childhood and youth in Fressin, a small village in the Pas de Calais region. He was educated by Jesuits at Vaugirard College, where one of his classmates was the future General, Charles de Gaulle. Bernanos attended the Institut Catholique and the University of Paris, where he received licentiates in law and letters. One source says that he attended two minor seminaries before going on to the Sorbonne and that he had at one time thought to become a priest.

Bernanos was a cavalryman in World War I, was wounded and received the Croix de Guerre. He married in 1917. His wife, of the family Du Lys D'Arc, was a direct descendant of the brother of St. Joan of Arc. The couple had three boys and three girls. The family lived in various places, including South America from 1938 to 1945, much of that time on a remote farm in Brazil. Between 1926 and 1945, sixteen of his books were published. Bernanos died at Neuilly sur-Seine on July 5, 1948.

The reader is not told the year in which the events of the novel Diary of a Country Priest take place. There is a reference to a motorbike, however, and other commentary that seems to set the novel at about the same time it was written. The main character and narrator is a nameless Catholic priest, about 30 years of age, who keeps a journal as a way of gathering his thoughts.

The young Curé comes from a poor background but entered the seminary at the age of 12 and was a gifted student. Now he has been assigned to the village of Ambricourt as the parish priest. According to his Dean, Ambricourt is a "double parish". It includes many smaller villages and he has many homes to visit. Although he goes about his work with dedication and sincerity, the villagers reject him. The only person who attends weekday Mass is Louise, the governess in the home of a Count who lives in a nearby château.

The Curé is sickly and becomes increasingly so as time goes on. He finds his stomach can only tolerate sugared wine, dry bread, and sometimes baked apples or potatoes. For this and other minor things, he is suspected, ridiculed and condemned. He thinks he might have tuberculosis but puts off going to Lille to see a specialist for diagnosis.

Occasionally, the Curé visits an older priest in the nearby village of Torcy who apparently was one of his teachers in the seminary. The older priest has a bleak view of the degree to which humans have been wounded by Adam's sin. His worldview is perhaps more Lutheran than Catholic. In fact his first name is Martin and he prays regularly for Martin Luther. One should not confuse the voice of the priest of Torcy with the voice of Bernanos or the voice of the Church. Still, there is sometimes humor in the ramblings of this older priest that is enjoyable to read.

The priest of Torcy seems to have a genuine affection for the Curé but calls him a "ragamuffin" and berates him about his demeanor and his diet. He even complains about the cloak the Curé wears, which was given to him by an aunt, because he thinks it makes the Curé look like "a romantic German poet." Their conversations are mostly one-sided harangues by the priest of Torcy. Early on, the priest advises the Curé, "A true priest is never loved, get that into your head. . . . Try first to be respected and obeyed. What the Church needs is discipline."

Lacking social skills, the Curé often alienates one or the other villager while always intending to do good. At the same time, on occasion he has an uncanny ability to read souls and exercise his priestly authority in a manner that can only be explained by God acting through him.

A sexually precocious village girl name Seraphita torments the Curé. She is the star pupil in his catechism class. He believes she is longing for her First Holy Communion. When he asks her about it, however, she says, "It'll come soon enough." He replies, "But you understand me though, you listen so well." To this, she responds, "It's 'cause you've got such lovely eyes."

In his sickness and isolation the Curé longs for, and finds himself incapable of, deep prayer. "I know, of course, that the wish to pray is a prayer in itself, that God can ask no more than that of us. But this was no duty which I discharged. At that moment I needed prayer as much as I needed air to draw my breath or oxygen to fill my blood. . . . A void was behind me. And in front a wall, a wall of darkness."

The Count's daughter, Chantal, believes that the governess, Louise, is the Count's mistress, which may be true. She hates Louise, hates the Countess for tolerating Louise's presence, and is angry with her father. Both Louise and Chantal seek the Curé's help and he is thus drawn in to the struggles at the château. The Curé receives an ominous note warning him to leave the village that he later discovers was likely written by the governess, Louise.

One of the most dramatic parts of the book begins when the Curé approaches the Countess about Chantal, who he fears is suicidal. It emerges that the Countess has been alienated from God for years because her only son died when he was just eighteen months old. What ensues is an encounter where the Curé fights for the Countess's soul in a struggle so fierce it almost resembles an exorcism. The result is that the Countess is reconciled to God. The next day she writes to the Curé telling him of the peace she has found. That night she has an angina attack and dies. Chantal then lies about what occurred between her mother and the Curé, and he is blamed for the Countess' death.

Toward the end of the novel, the Curé sometimes feels healthier while in fact his condition is rapidly worsening. On his way back from a round of home visits, he hemorrhages and collapses, vomiting blood. Seraphita discovers and helps him. She thinks perhaps someone at one of the homes he has visited poisoned him. "Someone's been poppin' ash in your glass -- they think it's funny, a kind o' joke." Later, however, Seraphita describes the incident to Chantal who uses the information to further discredit the Curé.

Among the minor characters is a general practitioner, Dr. Delbende, who lost his faith in medical school, spends his life in doing works of mercy, but in the end commits suicide because of financial problems. Another is Louis Dufréty, a priest who took a leave for health reasons and ended up cohabitating with a former charwoman from the sanatorium where he had been treated. He was the Curé's best friend in the seminary. Now he is trying to make a living as a drug salesman.

A third minor character is Olivier, a nephew of the Countess, a soldier on leave who gives the Curé a ride on his motorbike. Another is Madame Dupluoy, a pub-keeper who treats the Curé with kindness while he is waiting for the train to Lille when he finally leaves to see the specialist there. "Mme Duplouy made me share her lunch . . . . I had some soup and vegetables. While I was out she had lit the stove, and she left me alone after lunch, very cosy, with a cup of black coffee. I felt warm and comfortable."

Finally the Curé arrives in Lille to see the specialist Dr. Delbende referred him to before Delbende's death. As it turns out, the physician he actually sees is not the same doctor to whom he was sent (Lavigne) but one with a similar name (Laville). The doctor prescribes a medicine but forgets to give the prescription to the Curé. When the latter goes back for it, he finds Dr. Laville shooting opium into his leg. At that point, Laville finally tells the Curé that he has stomach cancer.

After hearing the diagnosis, the Curé goes to visit Louis Dufréty who lives in Lille. Dufréty inhabits a dream-world of lies in which he imagines himself an intellectual and claims the woman with whom he lives was the "chief sister" at the sanatorium who had "made a thorough study of medicine" and a "refined, cultured girl". In fact she is a pitiful, uneducated woman who chars at several locations in a single day in order to support the couple.

Dufréty and his mistress make up a camp bed for the Curé in the room where Dufréty keeps his supplies. The Curé is repelled by the situation and does not want to die there. At 4:00 in the morning, however, Dufréty and his mistress (whose name we never learn) discover him rapidly approaching death. He has hemorrhaged again and fainted. When he regains consciousness, he motions for his Rosary, then asks Dufréty for sacramental absolution. As Dufréty later writes to the priest of Torcy, "Although I realized I had no right to accede over hastily to this request, it was quite impossible in the name of humanity and friendship, to refuse him. May I add that I was able to discharge this duty in a spirit which need leave you with no possible misgivings."

Although Dufréty has sent for the parish priest so that the Curé could receive "the final consolations of Our Church", the Curé dies before the priest arrives. His last words are borrowed from Thérèse of Lisieux, "Tout est grâce". ("All is grace", mistranslated in the English version as "Grace is everywhere .")

Bernanos was intensely critical of the state of the Church and society and there is much material for reflection on these subjects in the book if one has a solid understanding of Catholic doctrine and the background to put the commentary in context. If one does not, it is better to focus one's attention on the story itself.

The key to this novel seems to be found in a realization the Curé had during one of the diatribes of the priest of Torcy. The older priest talks about how God's calling of each priest comes in a different way, "So to get things straight I start off by taking each one of us back where he belongs in Holy Writ." This triggers a realization by the Curé, "The truth is that my place for all time has been Mount Olivet . . . in that instant -- strangely in that very instant, when He set His hand on Peter's shoulder asking him the useless question, almost naïve yet so tender, so deeply courteous: Why sleep ye? . . Our Lord this day [has] granted me, through the lips of my old teacher, the revelation that I am never to be torn from the eternal place chosen for me -- that I remain the prisoner of His Agony in the Garden. Who would dare take such an honour upon himself?"

Reviewers of the book often declare that the Curé is a Christ figure and then go on to speak of other things. It is true that he is a Christ figure, but Bernanos' manner of portraying this is unique. In a manner so hidden that one can only fully perceive it in retrospect, the events of the final months of the Curé's life allude to the final events of Christ's earthly life -- those incorporated in the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary and the Stations of the Cross.

Over the course of time, the Curé seems to take the sins of the villagers upon himself. When he is ridiculed and lied about, one thinks of the Scourging at the Pillar. In his weakness, he falls several times. When Seraphita finds him fallen on a path and cleans his face with a rag, one thinks of Veronica wiping the face of Jesus. When Olivier, the soldier, gives the Curé a lift on his motorbike, it reminds one of Simon of Cyrene helping Jesus carry the Cross. When Madame Duplouy comforts the Curé with food and warmth, in a sense Jesus meets his mother. In Lille, especially at Dr. Laville's, evil is so palpable that one has a hint of its concreteness on that long-ago Friday. Since Dufrety and his mistress both also have terminal illnesses, even the Curé's death at Dufréty's could be seen as an allusion to Christ's crucifixion between the two thieves.

Thus, the novel can draw the reader into a deep experience of, and identification with, Christ's Passion in an unanticipated manner that is quite effective. Needless to say, the book is good Lenten reading and reading it is an experience not easily forgotten.

Source:
Quotations are from the 1937 translation into English by Pamela Morris entitled Diary of a Country Priest using the 2nd Carroll & Graf Edition (New York, 2002).

Image:
Ruysdael's, "After the Rain," from Web Gallery of Art. In the public domain.

The End of the Affair (1955, 1999)

The End of the Affair by Graham Greene (1904-1991) is a 1951 novel that became the basis for two films: one in 1955 and the other in 1999.

The story line of the novel is this: in London, in 1939, Maurice Bendrix, a British novelist writing a book about a high level civil servant, looks for such a character to study in real life. Thus, Bendrix becomes acquainted with Henry Miles and his wife, Sarah. Almost immediately, Bendrix and Sarah embark on an adulterous affair that continues for several years, during which Bendrix reveals himself as a jealous and possessive lover.

In 1944, Bendrix and Sarah are together in Bendrix’s rented room when a bomb strikes. Bendrix appears to be dead. Sarah prays and promises God she will leave Bendrix forever if he is spared. Bendrix comes back to life and Sarah is left with a promise she must either honor or abandon.

Sarah leaves Bendrix without explanation and they remain apart for two years. Then Bendrix has a chance encounter with Henry who confides he is worried that Sarah is having an affair because of her frequent absences. Jealous of the lover who has supplanted him, Bendrix hires a private investigator to have Sarah followed.

Barkis, the awkward but lovable investigator, and his young son, conduct a bumbling investigation that initially results in the false conclusion that Sarah is indeed having another illicit affair. In reality, she meets for a time with an atheist who fails to convince her that coming to faith is folly, while at the same time she is being drawn more deeply into her relationship with that most ardent and most jealous Lover of all lovers.

Sarah frequents a Catholic church, spending time in reflection. In tentative moments that perhaps only a convert can appreciate to the fullest, she makes certain material moves toward the Faith. She writes in her diary:

“. . . I did what I had seen people do in Spanish churches: I dipped my finger in the so-called holy water and made a kind of cross on my forehead.” And, “Yesterday I bought a crucifix, a cheap ugly one because I had to do it quickly. I blushed when I asked for it. Somebody might have seen me in the shop. They ought to have opaque glass in their doors like rubber-goods shops. When I lock the door of my room, I can take it out from the bottom of my jewel-case.”

Ultimately, Sarah seek religious instruction from a Catholic priest. Meanwhile, Barkis manages to purloin Sarah’s journal, which explains why she left Bendrix after the bombing, and Bendrix reads it. Once he realizes what occurred, Bendrix is determined to win Sarah back. Bendrix reaches Sarah by telephone but by then Sarah has committed to making her separation from Bendrix permanent. She is also ill with an upper respiratory infection. Sarah tells Bendrix that she cannot see him, that she is ill, and that if he comes to her she will evade him. Bendrix disregards Sarah’s wishes and her illness and goes to her home. Sarah flees. With Bendrix in pursuit, Sarah hurries through a rainy night to a Catholic church where Bendrix confronts her. Sarah convinces Bendrix to leave and remains in the church despite her illness. As a result of the exposure to the cold and rain, Sarah’s illness deepens into pneumonia and within days she dies, repeatedly asking for a Catholic priest.

With total disregard of his role in causing Sarah’s death, Bendrix continues to oppose Sarah’s new Lover, managing to prevent a Catholic burial even after the priest who had begun instructing Sarah tells Henry that Sarah could have a Catholic funeral because, “We recognize the baptism of desire.”

After Sarah’s cremation, Sarah’s mother reveals to Bendrix that Sarah had been secretly baptized into the Catholic Church as a two-year-old, although Sarah herself did not know it. After learning this, Bendrix says to the God he does not believe in, “You can’t mark a two-year-old child for life with a bit of water and a prayer. If I began to believe that, I could believe in the body and the blood.”

Within weeks of Sarah’s death, Barkis’s son is healed from a serious illness after being given one of Sarah’s old children’s books. And, the atheist Sarah had been visiting is healed of a disfiguring facial birthmark after he sleeps with strands of Sarah’s hair pressed to his marred cheek. Ultimately, Bendrix recognizes that Sarah must have obtained these favors from her Beloved. Nevertheless, Bendrix still wants nothing to do with Him.

Except for Sarah’s diary, the novel is written from Bendrix’s point of view. On the first page, Bendrix writes, “this is a record of hate far more than of love”. The novel ends with Bendrix praying, “O God, You’ve done enough, You’ve robbed me of enough, I’m too tired and old to learn to love, leave me alone for ever.”

The 1955 film stars Van Johnson as Maurice Bendrix and Deborah Kerr as Sarah Miles. Johnson seems entirely too American in every respect to be believable as the Englishman, Bendrix, although he is convincing as a possessive lover and a selfish, arrogant unbeliever. Deborah Kerr, a Scot, does fine portraying an Englishwoman being brought to faith. She is far less credible, however, as a woman whose erotic desire for Bendrix is so powerful that relinquishing it constitutes a major sacrifice.

Although the correspondence of the 1955 film to the novel is less than a hundred percent, and the film has many defects, it is reasonably true to the book. The film has no bedroom scenes, nudity, vulgarity, or violence. Although the film portrays an adulterous affair, it does not portray the affair in a positive light. Obviously, though, this is not a film for children or young teenagers.

The 1999 version is so graphic in its portrayal of the sexual relationship between Bendrix (Ralph Fiennes) and Sarah (Julianne Moore) that it should not be viewed by anyone. (I had to skip over large portions of the DVD and would not have even tried to view it if I had known in advance about the content.) In any event, the 1999 film departs from the book so significantly that the meaning of Greene’s story is entirely lost.

Image:
Video cover of 1955 film, from Wikimedia Commons. Copyrighted material. Fair use claimed.

NB: This review has been edited since its first publication.

God, Goodness, and Good Manners

It is said that St. Francis de Sales (pictured just above) counseled that a good Catholic should have excellent manners.   I think it can be said that manners relate both to the virtue of charity and the virtue of justice; they involve both consideration of others (charity) and treating others with the respect they are due (justice).

An interesting question is whether good manners require a Christian foundation.

When the great English writer Evelyn Waugh converted to Catholicism in 1930, there was an uproar in the British press. After a few weeks, the Daily Express published an article by Waugh entitled, "Converted to Rome: Why It Has Happened to Me." There, Waugh explained his conversion and his belief that the world was facing a choice between Christianity and chaos. Waugh stated, "It is no longer possible ... to accept the benefits of civilization and at the same time deny the supernatural basis upon which it rests."

In a similar vein, the Tradition in Action website recently posted an interesting article entitled “Refinement and Sanctity” by Professor Plinio Correa de Oliveira, arguing that “good treatment of others and elevated manners are a result of the love of God. When this is absent, good treatment and manners only sporadically appear and do not last long.”

There is such a thing as “natural virtue”, which traditional Catholic theologian, Fr. John Hardon defines in his Modern Catholic Dictionary as:

“A good moral habit whose principles, object, and purpose are natural to the human person. This means any virtue whose existence is knowable by the light of natural reason and whose practice is possible (at least for a time) without the help of supernatural grace.”

The phrase, “at least for a time”, suggests that Fr. Hardon would agree that natural virtue will eventually fail without God's grace.

Thus, while atheists may urge that one should “be good for goodness sake”, it may well be that goodness cut off from God and his Holy Church will eventually wither and die, both in an individual and in a culture.

Image:
St. Francis de Sales, from the Tradition in Action article.