Summer
Books A
page-turner about faith
THE BLIND SIDE OF THE
HEART By Michael C. White Cliff Street Books, 355 pages,
$24 |
|
By TERESA MALCOLM
Michael C. Whites novel is a page-turner -- even a mystery
of sorts. But those expecting a neat Agatha Christie-like revelation of all
secrets should look elsewhere. The Blind Side of the Heart is more
interested in exploring the nature of loyalty and faith in another human being.
As the title suggests, the reader will question how blind that loyalty can
be.
The novels narrator is Maggie Quinn, an Irish immigrant
whose troubled past had led her to alcoholism, prostitution and a suicide
attempt. She is rescued by Fr. Jack Devlin, who hires her as his housekeeper at
his parish in a small Massachusetts town. She serves him with devotion for 18
years.
Then her world comes apart when Fr. Jack is accused of sexual
abuse. Two brothers, now in their 20s, claim they were abused by the priest as
altar boys 15 years earlier -- they say their repressed memories of the abuse
were retrieved in therapy.
Maggie fiercely believes in Fr. Jacks innocence. She watches
as the initially loyal townspeople turn on the priest, and tells us,
Since all this, the blinders have been removed from my eyes. Ive
come to see this crummy little town for what it is. An interesting thing
for her to say, because the reader, at least, is aware of Maggies
blinders when it comes to Fr. Jack. As she recalls Fr. Jacks relations
with the boys involved in the case, she inevitably assumes the most innocent
explanations for everything he does. But we (and other characters in the book)
are able to see alternate meanings -- ones possibly more sinister and more
damaging to Fr. Jacks case.
Its a delicate balancing act that the book pulls off,
because in most cases Maggies innocent interpretation is as plausible as
the guiltier one. The question of Fr. Jacks guilt or innocence is kept
ambiguous, compelling the reader to puzzle over every little bit of evidence.
Maggie paints a picture of a kind, selfless priest, long loved by the community
-- with the exception of a cadre of spiteful conservatives who object to his
support for womens ordination and gay rights. Fr. Jacks accusers
are rather shady characters, and of course the defense lawyer produces a
psychologist to discount the validity of retrieved memories. On the flip side,
as much as we sympathize with Maggie, her bouts with drinking make her a less
than reliable witness.
Its not until Fr. Jack is also accused of murder that Maggie
begins to question her faith in him. She becomes increasingly torn, still
believing in Fr. Jacks essential goodness, but riddled with doubt about
the accuracy of her own memories. Her attempts to reconstruct what happened the
night of the murder more than 10 years ago are in a way her own foray into
retrieved memories, as she tries to discern if she can testify on Fr.
Jacks behalf with a clear conscience.
Fr. Jack himself is not so vivid to the reader as Maggie is. He is
entirely seen through her eyes, and because of that, if he sometimes comes off
as too good to be true, it rightly reveals more about Maggie than the priest.
He remains an enigma, to her and to us.
The books one flaw is a resolution that seems a bit too
convenient, rather than springing naturally from the course of events.
Nevertheless, the reader comes to care greatly about Maggies struggle to
come to some peace with herself and with Fr. Jack. You may or may not agree
with the conclusion she eventually reaches, but her journey makes for a
compelling read.
Teresa Malcolm is NCRs assistant news editor. Her
e-mail address is tmalcolm@natcath.org
National Catholic Reporter, May 5,
2000
|