This book by Norman Mailer is a novel, and yet carries a persistent acuteness of tone and perspective as it walks through the first-person narrative of Jesus, told by Norman Mailer's version of Himself; I'm not going to say a great deal about it because otherwise I'll end up writing an enormous post peeling apart speculative layers of Exactly Just What Is Heresy and Where Does Art Stand In Relation To This, and basically I would like to skip that (as it's quite late and I'm writing this actually a few weeks after I've actually finished the book so a combination of wanting-to-get-off-my-screen-based-appliance-before-bed and it-was-that-long-ago-most-of-my-juicer-ruminations-have-dissipated-anyway is in effect) and just affirm that while this book does embellish upon the Biblical Gospels, it does so in the self-conscious medium of a novel, a literary format designed to embroil its lone audiences in worlds of empathy and imagination and brokenness and nuance - much like the world Jesus inhabited in ways far messier than word-for-word portrayed in the formal accounts. Any theological liberties it takes it does so with an careful caution which maintain the religious integrity of its main character, while by taking those liberties in the context of a (superbly written) novel allows Mailer to powerfully and poignantly explore what can only be speculated as to the inner life of someone who thinks God is trying to tell him summat uniquely important. As an exercise in literary practice for those who already believe that Jesus was fully divine and fully human, this twist - subjective narration of the most well-known story in history - makes for excellent and thought-provoking reading, and I am quite confident agnostic readers may also enjoy the fresh retelling of familiar scenes in ways altogether 'less preachy' than perhaps generally perceived to be accessible.
No comments:
Post a Comment