Graham Greene (1904—1991), the famous journalist and writer, visited Mexico during the 1930s to investigate a religious persecution that was then underway. His greatest work, The Power and the Glory, was a product of that investigation. It was first published (under a different title) in 1940. I read it for the first time over thirty years ago and have returned to it repeatedly.
The story concerns a morally flawed priest who struggles inwardly between a desire to return to a life of safety, and his obligation to serve the Catholics who live in a region where the anti-religious laws are being enforced with particular severity. The priest’s chief antagonist is referred to as the lieutenant—an impressive figure whose hostility toward the Church is rooted in the bad memories of his childhood. His personality is succinctly encapsulated in the following passage:
‘The lieutenant sat down upon his bed and began to take off his boots … It infuriated him to think that there were still people in the state who believed in a loving and merciful God. There are mystics who are said to have experienced God directly. He was a mystic, too, and what he had experienced was vacancy—a complete certainty in the existence of a dying, cooling world, of human beings who had evolved from animals for no purpose at all. He knew.’
In contrast to the lieutenant’s austere integrity, the priest is weak and corrupt. He is a poorly disciplined man, a coward and an alcoholic. Moreover, he is the father of an illegitimate child who spurns his tardy expressions of concern (he had had a brief, boozy, joyless affair with the girl’s mother). Still, in his own seedy manner, the priest emerges as peculiarly wise, compassionate, dedicated, and even heroic. It is truly remarkable that the author was able to pull this off so convincingly and effectively.
In addition to the priest and the lieutenant, other characters show up who are almost equally striking. There is the mestizo, a Judas-figure, who attaches himself to the priest for the purpose of drawing him to the authorities. This man’s desire to collect reward money is laughably transparent, and yet he continuously protests his innocence and complains of hurt feelings. Another fine character is a foreign girl named Coral who lives with her parents on a banana plantation. This child shelters the priest and protects him from his enemies with cunning and precocious spunk. And though she is not a Catholic or a believer at all, she feels for the priest a sense of unwavering loyalty: “I hope you’ll escape … If they kill you I shan’t forgive them—ever.”
Though Greene’s novel can be called a work of Catholic fiction, not all Catholics appreciated it. In fact it was condemned by the Vatican’s Holy Office. However, it did have a certain notable defender. Pope Paul VI said that The Power and the Glory is “a book of singular literary value.” I agree.