Faith and Fiction
Thursday, October 25, 2007
I was recently asked why, given my fascination with the Sino-Vatican situation, that I didn't write a non-fiction book on the subject. The years of research I put into The Secret Cardinal are worthy of a doctorate, and I am certain a straight biography of Cardinal Kung would make a very compelling read, but the real story has major problem for me: it's not over. I'm a purist and I like my stories with a beginning, middle and end. I like agon and catharsis. And I write fiction because it allows for poetic justice.
While the situation for people of faith in China is better now than during the Cultural Revolution, it is far from ideal. Even a biography of Cardinal Kung, which did have a happy ending after three decades in hell, would end on a sad note because the last Roman Catholic bishop of Shanghai was never able to return to his see and resume his pastoral duties. Kung's victory was personal, because he survived, but his flock continues to suffer. The Dalai Lama's life story may well have the same bittersweet ending on an exiled leader long separated from his people.
Unlike my first four thrillers, The Secret Cardinal confronts a great evil in the world: religious persecution in China. I am not the first author to employ fiction in this manner. Aesop wrote fables and Christ told parables as a means of personal instruction. George Orwell railed against totalitarianism in Animal Farm and 1984 and Upton Sinclair took on the meat packing industry in The Jungle.
Perhaps the most successful novel of this type was abolitionist Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin. When Abraham Lincoln met Stowe, he is reported to have said, "So you're the little woman who wrote the book that started this great war." The Secret Cardinal probably won't change the world, but I do hope it entertains and edifies those who read it. It is, after all, a tale of honor, loyalty and faith.
While the situation for people of faith in China is better now than during the Cultural Revolution, it is far from ideal. Even a biography of Cardinal Kung, which did have a happy ending after three decades in hell, would end on a sad note because the last Roman Catholic bishop of Shanghai was never able to return to his see and resume his pastoral duties. Kung's victory was personal, because he survived, but his flock continues to suffer. The Dalai Lama's life story may well have the same bittersweet ending on an exiled leader long separated from his people.
Unlike my first four thrillers, The Secret Cardinal confronts a great evil in the world: religious persecution in China. I am not the first author to employ fiction in this manner. Aesop wrote fables and Christ told parables as a means of personal instruction. George Orwell railed against totalitarianism in Animal Farm and 1984 and Upton Sinclair took on the meat packing industry in The Jungle.
Perhaps the most successful novel of this type was abolitionist Harriet Beecher Stowe's Uncle Tom's Cabin. When Abraham Lincoln met Stowe, he is reported to have said, "So you're the little woman who wrote the book that started this great war." The Secret Cardinal probably won't change the world, but I do hope it entertains and edifies those who read it. It is, after all, a tale of honor, loyalty and faith.
Labels: China, faith, fiction, Kilkenny, religious persecution, Vatican