Death Comes for the Archbishop (Vintage Classics)

...as in the Puy-de-Dome." And "In New Mexico he always awoke a young man..." Wishful thinking perhaps, but just those two sentence fragments, on page 272, seem to be sufficient reason for reading this excellent novel. For all those folks "back East," Cather's novel involves the "other history of America," not the Jamestown, Plymouth Rock, 13 colonies version, but one that actually predates those events, the Spanish settlement of the southwest from Mexico. The time period of the novel is the mid-1800's, the central character is Father Jean Marie Latour, who is modeled on Bishop Lamy. The Vatican had made a decision that the decadent life of all too many Spanish priests in the Southwest, openly cohabitating with their "housekeepers," needed some serious reformation, and so they recruited a priest from the most austere area of France, the Auvergne. Willa Cather tells the story with clear, lucid prose, with occasional rhetorical flourishes. Each chapter is a largely self-contained story. I consider this novel better than her somewhat more famous novel on the settling of the plains, "My Antonio." Some of Cather's insights are extremely relevant today; consider the following from page 290: "For many years Father Latour used to wonder if there would ever be an end to the Indian wars while there was one Navajo or Apache left alive. Too many traders and manufacturers made a rich profit out of that warfare; a political machine and immense capital were employed to keep it going." Yes, the current apostles of endless war have numerous antecedents. I felt there was an historical bias in the chapter entitled "The Mass at Acoma." Father Latour wonders about the impetus to the construction of the church there, and says: "Powerful men they must have been, those Spanish Fathers, to draft Indian labour for this great work without military support." Of course the year Cather wrote these words was 1927, so it is unlikely that the Indians were providing "tourist tours" of their stunning mesa then. I've been there several times over the last few years, being guided by the recently departed "Orlando," who tells a far harsher version of these events, including the military support provided by Onate, the amputation of the right foot of the men, and the forced labour of the women to carry the trees from far off Mt. Taylor. But still, the central thrust of the book is Latour's life, his vision of reformation of the personnel of the Catholic Church, and his concepts of leadership of the parishioners. Cather's characterization of him, many decades later, rings true. A good companion volume which deals with some of the same themes is Graham Greene's "The Power and the Glory." Anyone who stands in the northeast corner of the square in Sante Fe, looks north towards Lamy's not quite finished church, at least his vision of it, should be inspired to read the best version of events we are likely to have, Cather's book. It is highly recommended.

This book is on the short list of great novels published in this country, and is arguably Cather's masterpiece. Based on the historic Bishop Lamy of 19th century Santa Fe, Cather's Bishop Latour is called to civilize a land with a complex and tangled history. Cather presents him as a hero cowboy on horseback, facing off against various challenges natural and human from the day he is dispatched from Rome until his death years later. The prose is stately, but rich and colored -- modern English clear, direct, and chiseled. Each chapter is a self-contained episode, directly modeled on Giotto's Life of Saint Francis panel circa 1300, wherein roughly a dozen separate pictures depict famous episodes of the saint's life. Cather rigorously studied classical art, music, and architecture, and was as artistically conscious as other pioneer artists of her generation -- Frank Lloyd Wright in architecture, Stieglitz in photography. Coming dead center between Stephen Crane and Ernest Hemingway, and sharing a preoccupation with both of them for the American West, this book richly resonates as an ever-fresh, peculiarly American piece of classic writing.

Willa Cather's Death Comes for the Archbishop is a deceptively simple but profound novel about two French missionaries in the Southwestern United States. These men are not terribly otherworldly and they are capable of enjoying good books, good wine, and good food. They are tough guys too, up to the task of traveling thousands of miles on horseback or facing down some bad guys. The religion they promote provides support and comfort to Mexicans, Indians, and some Anglo miners who need spiritual succor.The book presents us with several vignettes in the lives of these urbane priests, as well as some fables and Southwestern folklore. By living in harmony with God's law and the world he created, the men prosper. Eventually, they must part, and they must grow old and die. But death holds no horror for men like these who have spent their lives in service to others.Cather's writing is beautiful and direct. In the following passage, one of the priests and his friend spend several days traveling together:As Father Latour and Eusabio approached Albuquerque, they occasionally fell in with company; Indians going to and fro on the long winding trails across the plain, or up into the Sandia mountains. They had all of them the same quiet way of moving, whether their pace was swift or slow, and the same unobtrusive demeanor: an Indian wrapped in his bright blanket, seated upon his mule or walking beside it, moving through the pale new-budding sage-brush, winding among the sand waves, as if it were his business to pass unseen and unheard through a country awakening with spring.North of Laguna two Zuni runners sped by them, going somewhere east on "Indian business." They saluted Eusabio by gestures with the open palm, but did not stop. They coursed over the sand with the fleetness of young antelope, their bodies disappearing and reappearing among the sand dunes, like the shadows that eagles cast in their strong, unhurried flight.Her book also contains some beautiful ideas. In this passage, the two priests discuss Our Lady of Guadalupe:"Where there is great love there are always miracles," [Father Latour] said at length. "One might almost say that an apparition is human vision corrected by divine love. I do not see you as you really are, Joseph; I see you through my affection for you. The Miracles of the Church seem to me to rest not so much upon faces or voices or healing power coming suddenly near to us from afar off, but upon our perceptions being made finer, so that for a moment our eyes can see and our ears can hear what is there about us always."This book has it all: fine writing, adventure, and some lessons for living. Most highly recommended.

Based on two real life French Catholic priests who were sent to the American Southwest in 1851, Willa Cather's 1927 novel captures the essence of their experiences. The Mexican people, formerly ruled by Spain, had been Catholic for centuries and welcomed the Bishop, Jean Marie Latour, and his Vicar, Father Joseph. As the two men travel through the countryside, it is clear that the landscape itself is a major character in this novel. Ms. Cather's descriptions brought me right there and I could almost breath the perfume of the earth as well as feel the impact of the mountains of rock and open desert.In what reads like a series of short stories, the priests travel throughout the area and meet a wide variety of people along the way. Always, their adventures take on mythical and religious significance, such as when Father Latour finds himself quite lost and then sees a juniper tree in the shape of a cross that leads him to food and shelter. Each of these stories has a crisis and each crisis is answered by a religious experience. This deepens the faith of the two priests who share their common religious feelings even though they have very different personalities.Ms. Cather had the uncanny ability to capture exactly what each character felt and let the reader experience it moment to moment. Her detailed descriptions are many faceted. For example she uses the character of Kit Carson to show both gentleness and compassion as well as vile cruelty to the Indians. Always, she just lays out the story and lets the reader make his or her own judgments.One of the problems I had with the book was my own desire to have the priests confront some difficult choice. That didn't happen. Their faith was always there. And, if there were any demons for them to conquer, it might have been a very subtle pride in what they were doing. In my mind, it made them just a little too perfect to identify with. This, however, was obviously not the author's intention which was to tell the tale as she saw it, filled with simple miracles and a loving testament to these two men whose impact can still be felt centuries later. It was a good book. I recommend it.

After reading with fascination the prior forty-plus reviews, they would appear to fall into three categories: juveniles who were forced to read the book for school, giving the book the lowest possible ratings. PC-types who judge both the writing of the book and the actions and beliefs of the characters by today's standards--such smug intolerance! Thirdly, those who love literature for its own sake, belonging to the community that has made this one of the classics in American writing. I admit, I am part of the third group. I fell in love with the writing of Cather as a teenager. To date, I have found no other author who can illustrate the great expanse of America and the vision of our ancestors in the way she could. Being set in New Mexico, the feeling of expanse of the American West permeates every page. I agree with another reviewer that this book is the writing equivalent of O'Keefe. While I can understand the young ones criticizing the book after being forced to read it, I don't understand adults who were dissatisfied. Was this their first Cather? Hopefully not (I'd recommend starting with "Song of the Lark" or "O Pioneers". Her writing is not an unknown quantity. I've read the book many times over the past thirty years, and it's not a book for those who like to have their plots laid out for them. The plot is obscure, as Cather leaves the main story line with chapters diverging like side trails off a main path. Though not hard to read, it's not a book for those in a hurry. It's best being read in a comfy chair on a rainy afternoon next to a window. The sense of timeliness, of the stretching on into eternity, is seldom better conveyed than in this book.A hundred-plus years on, Willa Cather's writing remains the foremost example of American Midwestern writing. For those who love the narrative style, I'd recommend finding some of the writings of Sarah Orne Jewett, one of Cather's mentors. You will see the origin of some of Cather's style.