Book Review the Bishops Man, by Linden Macintyre, Linden Macintyre, National Post, August 9, 2009

Book Review: the Bishop's Man, by Linden Macintyre

By Linden Macintyre
National Post
August 9, 2009

http://network.nationalpost.com/np/blogs/afterword/archive/2009/08/08/book-review-the-bishop-s-man-by-linden-macintyre.aspx

It was probably more appealing to be a Catholic priest back when people feared and respected the Church and its Earthly representatives. Nowadays, when ideas of sin or celibacy seem rather quaint, and priests are tainted with the whiff of sexual scandal, the priesthood looms less attractive as a career option for young men (and, of course, young women need not apply).

The narrator of Linden MacIntyre’s new novel, his second, is a Catholic priest in the mid-1990s. Duncan MacAskill is a Cape Bretoner in his early fifties, assigned to a remote parish near his birthplace. It is his first parish.

The Bishop’s Man takes its title from MacAskill’s history of providing useful services to his boss, a bishop determined to stifle any sort of controversy involving wayward priests at a time when scandals have rocked Newfoundland, Boston and numerous other dioceses.

Among his peers, MacAskill’s success at removing malefactors quickly and quietly has won him nicknames such as the Exorcist and the Purificator. You don’t want him turning up at your door.

This career sideline began with a rural priest who made the mistake of getting his housekeeper pregnant. A visit from Father MacAskill, and the wayward priest was on the next flight to Toronto, never to be seen in Nova Scotia again. MacAskill makes problems go away, usually to Toronto. One of the feathers in his cap is a Newfoundlander named Brendan Bell, now a prosperous married ex-priest in, you guessed it, Canada’s largest city. A decade later, questions are still being asked about Bell.

MacAskill’s only setback came in the mid-’70s, when his zeal landed him in his bishop’s bad books. The older man sent him off to Honduras for two years, a chapter in his life that slowly comes to light throughout the narrative. It involves a Salvadorean priest, a woman named Jacinta and a policeman/assassin — the jobs were then often synonymous in Central America. The policeman offered MacAskill pointers on how to kill, advice that has proven helpful (minus the bullet to the head) in his job of ridding the bishop of troublesome priests.

By the 1990s, it has become more difficult to keep scandals hidden, and MacAskill has become too high-profile in his position as a dean at a Nova Scotia Catholic university, hence the bishop’s decision to send him to a backwater parish in Cape Breton where he can disappear. In Creignish, the fishing is poor, as are the people. MacAskill’s parishioners take refuge in drink — they speak of “going to sea with Captain Morgan” — and their priest is soon following their lead; priests might be barred from sex, but they’re allowed to drink. Having a remote parish brings home to him how lonely he is. He hardly remembers his mother, his father is long dead and his sister and her daughter live in Toronto. The nature of his work for the bishop means that almost the only priests he knows are the wrong ’uns, not the intelligent, kind, witty priests he is sure must exist.

CBC journalist and memoirist Linden MacIntyre gives us a study of a midlife crisis in the making, and it’s going to be a doozy. There’s a newspaper reporter sniffing around after the Brendan Bell story, and there’s a young local man who is acting strangely, possibly as a result of his dealings with that banished priest. There’s also an attractive single woman who is as lonely as MacAskill, and she’s not the only lonely woman taking his priestly vows as a challenge. Add to all this MacAskill’s growing impatience with the bishop, a man who refuses to use the word “victim” to describe those who have been abused, plus a growing drinking problem, and you have a priest on the edge.

As a rule, whenever he’s done the bishop’s dirty work, MacAskill has been challenged by the priests he’s about to ship out to Toronto. Have you never been tempted, they ask him. Have you never gone astray? Are you perfect? MacAskill is not perfect; he’s a human being under that collar, after all. He’s a good man, however, and he tries to do a good job. He’s just not sure if he wants to do it any more, or if he’s even cut out for the job.

Some readers might find MacIntyre’s frequent timeshifting a distraction, but by and large the author handles the various decades of his tale deftly. And as a native Cape Bretoner himself, he brings the region and its residents vividly to life. MacIntyre’s examination of a troubled priest’s life will earn the attention of Catholics and non-Catholics alike.

“One night, my parents were at Blockbuster and they happened to run into President Romney. They chatted for a bit, and my parents mentioned they were having trouble picking a movie to rent. Much to my parents’ surprise, Mitt enthusiastically suggested the 1993 Mike Myers comedy, ‘So I Married an Axe Murderer.’