The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ
 |
| Canongate |
Phillip Pullman
2010
'"But he did heal someone," said the lame man. "Old Hiram. You remember that. He told him to take up his bed and walk."
"Bloody rubbish," said the blind man. "Hiram went as far as the temple gate, then he lay down and went on begging. Old Sarah told me. He said what was the use of taking his living away? Begging was the only thing he knew how to do. You and your blether about goodness," he said, turning to Christ, "where's the goodness in throwing an old man out into the street without a trade, without a home, without a penny? Eh? That Jesus is asking too much of people."'
Before I say anything about Phillip Pullman's The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ I must emphatically tell you, dear reader who doesn't care, that I have an undying love and appreciation for Pullman's well-known magnum opus (for some reason it's been ingrained in me that you have to italicize Latin, so I do it at least some of the time... never mind) the His Dark Materials trilogy. Comprising of Northern Lights, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass- the former of which was adapted into an extremely disappointing Hollywood film as The Golden Compass. I love and respect these books as much as any classics, and so I will always respect Pullman as an author of the highest regard.
The Dark Materials books gained strong and somewhat inevitable criticism from religious groups, which wasn't surprising seeing as the fundamental premise of the trilogy was essentially an all-out attack on organized religion (though much more complex, creative and wonderful than my clumbsy descriptions could possibly indicate). Pullman was treated as an admittedly less-famous Richard Dawkins by some, though it's clear to anyone who actually read the books that Pullman's style and message resonates much stronger with the genre of romanticism and the poetry, prose and artwork of Blake, Byron, Shelly, Wordsworth and similar contemporaries. While all are obviously very distinctive figures, the key themes are solid, and Pullman strikes me very much as a twentieth century incarnation.
The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ, if we may finally get to it, seems to be a more direct attempt at poking the wounded bear of Christianity. It is nothing less than a rewrite of the New Testament and the life and times of Jesus Christ. On the surface of it this seems like a bit of a dick move, but it's quantified somewhat by the fact that this is part of a dedicated series by publishers Cannongate Books entitled the Cannongate Myth Series, where contemporary authors re-imagine classic mythological stories- though the fact that the Bible is included alongside ancient Greek and Roman myth is probably a careful slap in the face too. Also I can't wait to see who gets to re imagine Islam. Has to be Salmon Rushdie.
When I first heard the title of the book I assumed that it was going to relate somehow to the varying positive and negative viewpoints of Jesus Christ as a symbol and character, but it's initially much more direct than that; Pullman literally (is that a pun?) splits the man in twain, creating the twin brothers Jesus and Christ. Following the pattern of the New Testament, Pullman briefly details the lives of this now family of four, slowly exploring the varying aspects of the titular characters. It is Jesus who displays the magical power of his absent father and eventually becomes an important figure in society, while Christ exists as a more thoughtful, analytical and concerned brother who watches on.
As the story moves through several plot points that you may have heard of before, Pullman's aims become clearer, as this novel tries to define the separation between the church and its god. By this point I'm afraid to say that I was somewhat bored. I'm not sure if I was expecting or wanting a more vindictive, God Delusion-esque attack on the logistics of the Bible but I was hoping for something with the vaguest hint of excitement. Sticking closer to the original stories than you might think, Pullman's thoughtful, even faintly respectable tone towards his subject matter left a lot to be desired. By the point (spoiler warning) Jesus dies and is reborn and such I didn't really care anymore.
I suppose the real problem with this book is that Phillip Pullman already taught his legion of fans to expect more from him. The Dark Materials books connected with millions of people, many of whom grew up with the series and felt a serious attachment to the author. Compared to the power of those books, The Good Man Jesus... falls very flat. The premise of the Cannongate myth series gave Pullman the opportunity to somewhat repeat his prior feats by capturing the attention of readers with the topic and then dazzling them with insight, remixing classical myth with potentially high-end concept religious fantasy, but instead the subdued, lecturing tone cancels this potential out. Obviously I was disappointed, but hopefully this says less about what Pullman seriously might be thinking about writing next, and more about how he approaches lower-profile vanity projects.
"Bloody rubbish," said the blind man. "Hiram went as far as the temple gate, then he lay down and went on begging. Old Sarah told me. He said what was the use of taking his living away? Begging was the only thing he knew how to do. You and your blether about goodness," he said, turning to Christ, "where's the goodness in throwing an old man out into the street without a trade, without a home, without a penny? Eh? That Jesus is asking too much of people."'
Before I say anything about Phillip Pullman's The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ I must emphatically tell you, dear reader who doesn't care, that I have an undying love and appreciation for Pullman's well-known magnum opus (for some reason it's been ingrained in me that you have to italicize Latin, so I do it at least some of the time... never mind) the His Dark Materials trilogy. Comprising of Northern Lights, The Subtle Knife and The Amber Spyglass- the former of which was adapted into an extremely disappointing Hollywood film as The Golden Compass. I love and respect these books as much as any classics, and so I will always respect Pullman as an author of the highest regard.
The Dark Materials books gained strong and somewhat inevitable criticism from religious groups, which wasn't surprising seeing as the fundamental premise of the trilogy was essentially an all-out attack on organized religion (though much more complex, creative and wonderful than my clumbsy descriptions could possibly indicate). Pullman was treated as an admittedly less-famous Richard Dawkins by some, though it's clear to anyone who actually read the books that Pullman's style and message resonates much stronger with the genre of romanticism and the poetry, prose and artwork of Blake, Byron, Shelly, Wordsworth and similar contemporaries. While all are obviously very distinctive figures, the key themes are solid, and Pullman strikes me very much as a twentieth century incarnation.
The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ, if we may finally get to it, seems to be a more direct attempt at poking the wounded bear of Christianity. It is nothing less than a rewrite of the New Testament and the life and times of Jesus Christ. On the surface of it this seems like a bit of a dick move, but it's quantified somewhat by the fact that this is part of a dedicated series by publishers Cannongate Books entitled the Cannongate Myth Series, where contemporary authors re-imagine classic mythological stories- though the fact that the Bible is included alongside ancient Greek and Roman myth is probably a careful slap in the face too. Also I can't wait to see who gets to re imagine Islam. Has to be Salmon Rushdie.
As the story moves through several plot points that you may have heard of before, Pullman's aims become clearer, as this novel tries to define the separation between the church and its god. By this point I'm afraid to say that I was somewhat bored. I'm not sure if I was expecting or wanting a more vindictive, God Delusion-esque attack on the logistics of the Bible but I was hoping for something with the vaguest hint of excitement. Sticking closer to the original stories than you might think, Pullman's thoughtful, even faintly respectable tone towards his subject matter left a lot to be desired. By the point (spoiler warning) Jesus dies and is reborn and such I didn't really care anymore.I suppose the real problem with this book is that Phillip Pullman already taught his legion of fans to expect more from him. The Dark Materials books connected with millions of people, many of whom grew up with the series and felt a serious attachment to the author. Compared to the power of those books, The Good Man Jesus... falls very flat. The premise of the Cannongate myth series gave Pullman the opportunity to somewhat repeat his prior feats by capturing the attention of readers with the topic and then dazzling them with insight, remixing classical myth with potentially high-end concept religious fantasy, but instead the subdued, lecturing tone cancels this potential out. Obviously I was disappointed, but hopefully this says less about what Pullman seriously might be thinking about writing next, and more about how he approaches lower-profile vanity projects.
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