In Part One of The Power and the Glory, Graham Greene characterizes the “whiskey
priest” through the diverse eyes of individuals whose lives have intersected
with this mysterious being. The furtive “whiskey priest” leaves many questions
unanswered as the reader longs to delve into his consciousness, to trace the
roots of his past, to witness the mental processes influencing this elusive figure’s speech and
action. Greene provides just that glimpse as Part Two commences, granting the
reader passage into the tormented mind of his protagonist whose duty to God,
self, and family clash in a tumultuous mental battle of will.
As the “whiskey priest” makes his
way home, he acknowledges the concessions he has made in his spiritual duties
as a priest. He notes that “the years behind him here littered with surrenders”
(60) as “penalties of the ecclesiastical kind began to seem unreal in a state
where the only penalty was the civil one of death” (60). In renouncing his
physical obligations as a priest (acknowledgement of feast days, carrying of
altar stone, etc.) the priest acknowledges the incompatibility of survival with
his former religiosity in this new society. The clash between survival and
sanctity torments the priest, as his physical and mental health has suffered
noticeably. As a Catholic, the priest obviously highly values the sanctity of
his own life. His identity of fugitive
is a fulfillment of this necessity for preservation of self. Yet, the identity
of fugitive requires a renouncing of his spiritual objects and diligent
performance of sacred rituals. The “fugitive priest” is thus inherently contradictory,
two irreconcilable requirements of the self that, in his attempt to fulfill,
only lead to further agony.
Additionally, the priest struggles immensely in attempting to embrace
his identity as fugitive, spiritual minister, and father. When the priest is surrounded by the children
in town, he begins to address them with “my children” but stops in his tracks,
noting that “it seemed to him that only the childless man has the right to call
strangers his children” (62). As a father to Brigitta and former “partner” of
Maria, the priest feels an “immense load of responsibility “(66), a
responsibility to be the influential male figure in the life of the unruly,
contemptuous Brigitta, to “guard her against the nonexistent” (67). Greene underscores the idea that the priest’s
duty to be a father, husband and nomad is an implausible undertaking with the
idea of the “nonexistent”. Being a father
requires a permanence that the “whiskey priest” cannot afford, a “sickness now”
(64) who is unable to safely wait for the nonexistent to come into fruition if
he hopes to spare his own life. As he parts from Brigitta,
the priest recognizes his spiritual calling to protect the entire world, but he
finds his passion “tethered and aching like a hobbled animal to the tree trunk”
(82-83). His passions can only be fully invested in one place, and the tension
produced by his flight into the wilderness hobbles him, as he seems in that
instant to long for his fatherly duties. The many identities the priest can
choose to embrace at this point cannot coexist with one another, clashing
duties that in an attempted coexistence will unquestionably continue to torment
his soul. Questions to consider: Does the” whiskey priest” show any potential to be a competent minister in this chapter of the novel or does his own self-doubt prove too incapacitating? In what ways does the “whiskey priest” show he has embraced his fugitive side?
2 comments:
The whiskey priest's actions portray him not only as a paradoxical character, but also as housing two lives within one being. When the priest flees to his hometown, he comes across Maria, a woman he had an affair with. The priest desecrated the sanctity of the priesthood through this affair that also bore his illegitimate daughter, Brigitta. He comes back and tries to reconcile this part of his life by comforting his daughter with love, but life has made her bitter: " I know about things...I've heard things...Do you think God wants you to stay and die - a whiskey priest like you?" Although he cannot make ammends with his daughter, we see that the priest is trying to make up for past mistakes. His journey has brought him to a different state of mind as he now tries to let go of his past self and become what is expected of a priest.
I think one of the most striking scenes that captures the “two lives” the Whiskey Priest houses comes as he prepares to leave hometown of Brigitta and Maria. He broke his vow of chastity when he slept with Maria. This abandonment of the faith, while not completely unexpected (given the Whiskey Priest’s sinful nature) takes his sinning to a new level. The Whiskey Priest does however accept the new part of his life. In this scene, he recognizes “his own inadequacy” as a priest and as a father (82). He desperately prays, “O God, give me any kind of death – without contrition – only save this child,” which shows how greatly he loves his daughter (82). He wants only to protect her from the “whole vile world” that has already ruined him (82). He has a genuine fear for her; it is a fear that she will not know the protection of love. He cannot stay to raise her, and Maria believes “she’ll never be good for anything” (79). He wants her to understand the love that he has for her. At the same time, he realizes that as a priest, “the passion to protect must extend itself over a world” (82). He cannot love only Brigitta. Every soul on the earth (friendly or unfriendly) must receive the same love he feels for his daughter. The Whiskey Priest houses two different lives within himself, and although they create internal conflict, both lives call him above the sins he has committed.
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