September 2000: The Sparrow

In the fall of 2000, we read one of the most provocative books I think we've ever read. I noticed it wasn't on anyone's Top 10 list. It's not the kind of book that's lovable, like The Time Traveler's Wife, or Eat, Pray, Love. It's not really beautiful, either, like Lolita or Atonement. It's a book with a compelling mystery and an interesting problem that leads to a horrifying resolution. Really, I can't remember ever being so shocked by a book.

The story is: humans pick up audio signals, breathtakingly beautiful music, indicating sentient life on another planet. First contact is made by a team of Jesuits led by a Puerto Rican priest, Father Sandoz, the main character of the book. But something goes wrong on the expedition. Father Sandoz is the only survivor. When he returns he's been tortured, has lost the use of his hands, and he's lost his faith. There are two narratives working both backwards from Sandoz's account and forwards from the departure of the Jesuits to the culmination of the story and the explanation of what went wrong.

The Sparrow made me wish I was more religious. (A lot of books make me feel that way, really, but this one even more so.) It powerfully addresses the question of what it means to have faith and that idea I find fascinating, that doubt is perhaps the most important element of faith. I especially think it's interesting to hear what Catholics think of the novel. It's very Catholic in that the meaningfulness of the story hinges on a confession.

The author has had an interesting religious life. She writes that after being raised Catholic (nominally) and living her young adulthood as an atheist, she saw purpose for religion. From her website:

"In 1986, I became a mother and began to realise that I wanted my son to be raised in the kind of solid moral and ethical framework that had served me well, even as an atheist. Nevertheless, I could not return to Christianity in any of its forms. For me, the Incarnation was and is an insuperable barrier to faith.

After years of reading, thought and study, I made a formal conversion to Judaism in 1992. Judaism is, in essense, about raising children who will want to be good, without the bribe of heaven or the threat of hell. It proved to be a wonderful framework for our family. My son has grown up to be a mensch -- a good and strong man. He is about to found his own family with my darling almost-a-daughter Jessie. I look forward to having Jewish grandchildren someday, but that's up to the kids now."