- Buckley, Christopher.
The Relic Master.
New York: Simon & Schuster, 2015.
ISBN 978-1-5011-2575-1.
-
The year is 1517. The Holy Roman Empire sprawls across
central Europe, from the Mediterranean in the south to
the North Sea and Baltic in the north, from the Kingdom
of France in the west to the Kingdoms of Poland and
Hungary in the east. In reality the structure of the
empire is so loose and complicated it defies easy description:
independent kings, nobility, and prelates all have their
domains of authority, and occasionally go to war against
one another. Although the Reformation is about to burst
upon the scene, the Roman Catholic Church is supreme,
and religion is big business. In particular, the
business of relics and indulgences.
Commit a particularly heinous sin? If you're sufficiently
well-heeled, you can obtain an
indulgence
through prayer, good works, or making a pilgrimage to a holy
site. Over time, “good works”
increasingly meant, for the prosperous, making a contribution
to the treasury of the local prince or prelate, a percentage of which was
kicked up to higher-ranking clergy, all the way to Rome. Or,
an enterprising noble or churchman could collect relics such as
the toe bone of a saint, a splinter from the True Cross, or a lock
of hair from one of the camels the Magi rode to Bethlehem.
Pilgrims would pay a fee to see, touch, have their sins erased,
and be healed by these holy trophies. In short, the indulgence and
relic business was selling “get out of purgatory for a price”.
The very best businesses are those in which the product is delivered
only after death—you have no problems with
dissatisfied customers.
To flourish in this trade, you'll need a collection of relics, all
traceable to trustworthy sources. Relics were in great demand, and
demand summons supply into being. All the relics of the
True Cross, taken together, would have required the wood from a
medium-sized forest, and even the most sacred and unique of relics,
the burial shroud of Christ, was on display in several different locations.
It's the “trustworthy” part that's difficult, and that's
where Dismas comes in. A former Swiss mercenary, his resourcefulness
in obtaining relics had led to his appointment as Relic Master to His
Grace Albrecht, Archbishop of Brandenburg and Mainz, and also to
Frederick the Wise, Elector of Saxony. These two customers were
rivals in the relic business, allowing Dismas to play one against the
other to his advantage. After visiting the Basel Relic Fair and
obtaining some choice merchandise, he visits his patrons to exchange
them for gold. While visiting Frederick, he hears that a
monk
has nailed ninety-five denunciations of the Church, including
the sale of indulgences, to the door of the castle church. This is
interesting, but potentially bad for business.
Dismas meets his friend,
Albrecht Dürer,
who he calls “Nars” due to Dürer's narcissism: among
other things including his own visage in most of his paintings. After
months in the south hunting relics, he returns to visit Dürer and
learns that the Swiss banker with whom he's deposited his fortune has
been found to be a 16th century
Bernie Madoff
and that he has only the money on his person.
Destitute, Dismas and Dürer devise a scheme to get back into
the game. This launches them into a romp across central Europe
visiting the castles, cities, taverns, dark forbidding forests,
dungeons, and courts of nobility. We encounter historical figures
including
Philippus Aureolus
Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim (Paracelsus), who lends his
scientific insight to the effort. All of this is recounted with the
mix of wry and broad humour which Christopher Buckley uses so
effectively in all of his novels. There is a tableau of the Last
Supper, identity theft, and bombs. An appendix gives background on
the historical figures who appear in the novel.
This is a pure delight and illustrates how versatile is the talent of
the author. Prepare yourself for a treat; this novel delivers.
Here is an
interview
with the author.
May 2016 