Death Comes for the Archbishop
is a set of short sketches of the life of Father Latour, bishop of New
Mexico during the time after New Mexico passed into American hands.
Father Latour, then a priest in southern Canada, travels
incognito to have a conversation with some of the Cardinals in which he
convinces the Cardinals to make Latour bishop of the new diocese by
explaining hiss fervent desire to bring the right practicing of the
faith to the people of New Mexico, a desire which he labors his whole
life to achieve. This work is chronicled through the sketches,
although the sketches focus on the character and personalities of the
bishop (Father Latour), his vicar (Father Vaillant), the corrupt
priests in the diocese, and the native Indians and Mexicans.
The
first set of sketches are an introduction to the country, which Bishop
Latour must cross to get his papers from the bishop of the former
undivided territory, and its people. They also show
Father Latour's devotion in bringing the right practise of the Catholic
faith to an area whose bishops have neglected the proper teaching.
Latour sees that people as being essentially Catholic in their
heart (despite an observation later that the Indians incurably added
the worship of God to their indigenous practices) but needing
instruction and an opportunity to practise their faith. He is
fully devoted to the cause of bringing people to the church. The
sketches introduce the character of Latour--refined, devoted to
God and Mary, quiet but unrelenting. Also, his Vicar, who is bold
and effective at accomplishing what he wants. Likewise, we see
the people of the diocese as desiring to celebrate Mass and having
marriages blessed by the Church.
The second set of sketches sees
Father Vaillant and sometimes Father Latour travelling through the
parishes as itinerate priests. We see a bit of the character
of the current priests, who are rebellious, womanizing, and greedy. For now, though, the task is to bring the sacraments
to the people. They also rescue a Mexican woman from her American
husband who badly mistreats her and kills travellers; she later
serves the nuns at the church in Santa Fe and lives a peaceful life.
The
third set reveals some of the Indian life and way of thinking. We
meet Jacinto, who guides the Bishop on various travels throughout his
life. He is quiet, but prepared for anything. Thoughtful
and helpful. Although he retains Indian beliefs, he appreciates
Latour's character. In contrast, we are told the story of Fray
Baltazar, a priest on the mesa-top of Ácoma in the 1600s who treated
the Indians as vassals and built a worldly villa using the Indian women
to water his garden by carrying water from the well below the mesa. Eventually his love of food becomes his
undoing and he accidentally kills one of his Indian servants by
throwing a cup at his head. The Indians, who had tolerated him until then,
swiftly carry out justice.
The next sketch is similar and it
reveals something of the mystery of the Indian religions. Father
Latour is travelling with Jacinto and they are caught in a blizzard.
Jacinto brings him to a cavern in the mountains he knows about
and they survive the night, but Jacinto is very cautious about a
certain hole in the rock. In later talks with Kit Carson and a
trader, Latour discovers that the Indians of the area worship a snake,
which they are rumored to bring into the village for certain
ceremonies. One of the Indian women once asked the trader's
mother to shelter her child, since she was terrified that it was going
to be fed to the snake. The reader is left with the strong
conclusion that the cavern that Latour spent the night was one of the
sacred places of the Indians, and that Jacinto was cautious with the
hole because that was where the snake was kept.
Having set the
diocese in order in terms of religious observances, Latour now focuses on
reforming the practices of the priests. Father Martinez, the
priest at Taos, who had greeted the new Bishop with a rebellion when he
first stepped foot in Santa Fe, needs to be dealt with. Not only
is he rebellious, but he also is quite the womanizer and does not live
with any sort of the self-restraint one expects of a priest.
Father Latour sends Father Vaillant to communicate his
requirements for the life of a priest, which Martinez rejects.
Shortly afterwards, he is excommunicated and starts his own rival
church, along with a priest from a neighboring parish. This
priest is a thorough miser, loving money to the point that it gives him a strength to kill a
thief, even though he himself is very old. As he lies dying, he
is still fearful that someone will take his money. The schism continues until the death of
the two priests.
A
brief interlude shows Father Latour intervening in the case of Doña
Isabella. She is a woman that the priest understands and
appreciates deeply. When her husband dies there is some dispute
about the will, but in order to receive what is rightfully hers, she
must testify her age in court. She would rather maintain the
fiction that she is ten years younger than she actually is and lose the
case, resulting in her impoverishment. Father Latour with great
tact and feminine understanding creates a situation where she can
reveal enough of her age to win the case but still be able to maintain
the fiction of her age.
The seventh set of sketches intertwines
Father Vaillant with an Indian of Latour's acquiantance, Eusabio, and a
Mexican slave to show the character of Father Latour's interactions
with his diocese. Vaillant is filled with a desire to evangelize
to the people of the diocese, and although this inconveniences Father
Latour, he regrettfully lets him go. Some time after his
departure, the bishop is unable to sleep. He goes to the church
to pray, where he finds a woman who is a slave of an American who
refuses to let her go to Mass. He brings to Mary's altar to pray.
She is overjoyed at being able to celebrate religion and he
experiences a deeply spiritual understanding of what Mary means.
In-between-times, Father Latour reminisces on his friendship with
Vaillant, who is so different from him--rash where Latour is
conservative, ascetic instead of enjoying comforts, enjoying people
instead of tending to be inconvenienced by them. Finally, we see
Father Latour understanding how the Indians and the Americans interact
with the landscape--the Indian reveres nature and leaves it unchanged,
while the American must put his mark upon the landscape.
Finally,
the bishop grows old. He is able to supervise the building
of a beautiful, French-style cathedral in Santa Fe, achieving his dream
of building a proper monument to God. We discover that Vaillant
was called to evangelize to the gold-loving
prospectors in Colorado, where he is tireless and effective in his
efforts. As the bishop's mind grows weak, we see a flashback of
how Latour took Vaillant under his wing at the
seminary and was able to gently persuade him to follow his heart to
join him as a missionary to America despite Vaillant's discomfort at
his family's displeasure. Finally, full of comforting memories of
his relationships, the bishop dies peacefully and is mourned by all who
know him.
This
is a surprisingly beautiful book. The descriptions of the
landscape are vivid and the characters of the people are painted
simply, elegantly, and effectively. There is little in the way of
over-arching plot, yet the narrative is compelling. Like all
Literature, the book advances through character growth rather than
through plot. The reader understands the characters more and more
thoroughly as the narrative progresses, so that by the end, the reader
celebrates the character of this priest whose heart loves the New
Mexican people and desires that they become truly Catholic.
Interestingly, as I was reading this book, my normally quick
reading slowed considerably, to match to unhurried pace of the
narrative. A fast read would miss the gorgeous descriptions, yet
the pace did not feel slow, just unhurried, like the characters and
landscape.
I was truly disturbed by the description of the
Catholic values, however. The description of the priests value
the Catholic church and Mary over God. In one place the Church is
described as Mary's church, which is just blasphemy: in Matt
16:18, Jesus says "And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock
I will build my church". It's Jesus'--God's--Church, not Mary's.
Mary is consistently effectively equated with God--she even has
her own altar at the church in Santa Fe. Granted, it is less
prominent, but one only builds an altar for a god, and this makes Mary
a goddess in the practice of this, hopefully hypothetical, church.
Vaillant often prays to Mary, going so far as to say "grant me
this boon, O Mary, my hope" (Book 7.1). The phrase "my
hope" is repeatedly used of God in the Psalms. One prays to
a god, and using phrases addressed to God confirms her status as a
deity. In fact, Vaillant is described by "to Her he had
consecrated his waking hours." Biblically consecration is to God,
and we are to give ourselves to God and no other. And in Book
7.2, Cather writes "Only a woman, divine, could know all that a woman
can suffer." By elevating Mary to deity, these priests are
breaking the first commandmant: "you shall have no other gods
besides me." Even worse, Vaillant sees her as "Alma Mater
redemptoris," "our redemptive Mother." Mary isn't divine,
and she didn't die for our sins; saying so is simply blasphemy.
Even though the idea of a femine figure may be comforting,
especially to women, the Bible unequivocally condemns this view as
idolatry.
I sincerely hope that neither Willa Cather nor the
Catholic Church endorses these views, because they will have a rude
awakening when they stand before God. I hope that they are
trusting in Jesus, who was both God and Man, who had the same nature as
us yet never sinned, who, as God, could die in our place for our sins,
so that we may be with God for all eternity. The fact is that
Mary is not divine, that she cannot save us any more than the idols
that Israel worshipped (see Jer 10:1-10) But from what I
consistently hear regarding the Catholic Church, I fear that many think
they are Christian when they are worshipping the wrong God.
Other
than the completely false characterization of what God wants His Church
to be, the book is truly a beautiful book. The descriptions are
magnificent, the characters are elegantly painted, and the noble
character of the priests, native Mexicans, and the Indians comes across
very clearly. Perhaps Willa Cather is showing the character that
true Christians have, and in this point she is right. Certainly
it is a moving book that has the deepest visual descriptions I have
read in a long time. A beautiful and unhurried portrait of the
New Mexican territory, and a book that will definitely be read by many
future generations.
Review: 9
This
would be a 10 except for the troubling blasphemy that Mary is God.
Arguably, it is a 10, if indeed it is a faithful portrait of the
Catholic Church. Since I hold out the hope that the Catholic
Church does not actually view Mary as divine, I am giving it a 9.
Definitely well-worth the time to read. And as an unrelated
endorsement, this was one of the few high school books my roommate
thought was worth keeping.
Quotes:
- "About the
middle of the afternoon Jacinto pointed out Laguna in the distance,
lying, apparently, in the midst of bright yellow waves of high sand
dunes--yellow as ochre. As they approached, Father Latour found
these were petrified sand dunes; long waves of soft, gritty
yellow rock, shining and bare except for a few lines of dark juniper
that grew out of the weather cracks,--little trees, and very, very old.
At the foot of this sweep of rock waves was the blue lake, a
stone basin full of water, from which the pueblo took its name."
(Book 3.2)
- "Certainly about their [the Indians] behaviour
there was nothing boyish in the American sense, nor even in the
European sense. Jacinto was never, by any chance, naïf; he
was never taken by surprise. One felt that his training, whatever
it had been, had prepared him to met any situation which might confront
him. He was as much at home in the Bishop's study as in his own
pueblo--and he was never too much at home anywhere" (Book 3.2)
- "The
truth was, Jacinto liked the Bishop's way of meeting people;
thought he had the right tone with Padre Gallegos [a
self-satisfied gambler with whom Father Latour had, on this meeting,
simply expressed mild surprise at his transgressions], the right tone
with Padre Jesus [a good priest whose treasured wooden parrot Father
Latour had naturally been drawn to and admired], and that he had good
manners with the Indians. In his experience, white people, when
they addressed Indians, always put on a false face. There were
many kinds of false faces; Father Vaillant's, for example, was
kindly but too vehement. The Bishop put on none at all. He
stood straight and turned to the Governor of Laguna, and his face
underwent no change. Jacinto thought this remarkable."
(Book 3.2)
- "Ever afterward the Bishop remembered his
first ride to Ácoma as his introduction to the mesa country. One
thing which struck him at once was that every mesa was duplicated by a
cloud mesa, like a reflection, which lay motionless above it or moved
slowly up from behind it. These cloud formations seemed to be
always there, however hot and blue the sky. Sometimes they were
flat terraces, ledges of vapour; sometimes they were dome-shaped,
or fantastic, like the tops of silvery pagodas, rising one above
another, as if an oriental city lay directly behind the rock. The
great tables of granite set down in an empty plain were inconceivable
without their attendant clouds, which were a part of them, as the smoke
is part of the censer, or the foam of a wave." (Book 3.3)
- After Fray Baltazar had thrown the cup at his servant, one of the visiting Padres examined him. "'Muerto,' he whispered. With that he plucked his junior priest by the sleeve, and the two
bolted across the garden without another word and made for the head of
the stairway. In a moment the Padres of Laguna and Isleta
unceremoniously followed their example. With remarkable speed the
four guests go them down from the rock, saddled their mules, and urged
them across the plain. ... For a moment he [Fray Baltazar]
entertained the idea of following them; but a temporary flight
would only weaken his position, and a permanent evacuation was not to
be thought of. ... The pueblo down there was much too
quiet. ... Now the Padre began to feel alarmed, to wish he
had gone down that stairway with the others, while there was yet time.
He wished he were anywhere in the world but on that rock.
... Moonrise from the loggia was an impressive sight, even
to this Brother who was not over impressionable. But to-night he
wished he could keep the moon from coming up through the floor of the
desert,--the moon was the clock which began things in the pueblo.
He watched with horror for that golden rim against the deep blue
velvet of the night. ... The Ácoma people told afterwards
that he did not suppliate or struggle; had he done so, they might
have dealt more cruelly with him. But he knew his Indians, and
that once they had collectively made up their pueblo mind... [sic]
Morevover, he was a proud old Spaniard, and had a certain
fortitude lodged in his well-nourished body. He was accustomed to
command, not to entreat, and he retained the respect of his Indian
vassals to the end." (Book 3.4)
- "In the working of silver
or drilling of turquoise the Indians had exhaustive patience;
upon their blankets and belts and ceremonial robes they lavished
their skill and pains. But their conception of decoration did not
extend to the landscape. They seemed to have none of the
European's desire to 'master' nature, to arrange and re-create.
They spent their ingenuity in the other direction; in
accomodating themselves to the scene in which they found themselves.
This was not so much from indolence, the Bishop thought, as from
and inherited caution and respect. It was if the great country
were asleep, and they wished to carry on their lives without awakening
it; or as if the spirits of earth and air and water were things
not to antagonize and arouse." (Book 7.4)
Copyright © 2007 by Geoffrey Prewett