Goodreads | The Heart of the Matter (Paperback) by Graham Greene

rating	frequency	%
5		33%
4		39%
3		23%
2		3%
1		0%

topics	replies	views	last activity
75 Books 2009: Authors you love	15	42	10 days ago, 08:30AM

Kelly rated it:

02/20/08

bookshelves: brit-lit, fiction

Read in February, 2008

Four stars, because of the quality of the writing. But I am going to disagree with the label that goes with it, that of "really liked it." Because I did not. I feel no affection for this book, and I doubt that I will ever re-read it for many reasons that I will state below. But for those just reading this to get a quick glance about whether they should read it or not: you should, in short. It is worth it. I just would not expect to fall in love.

The book focuses on Major Scobie, a p...more Four stars, because of the quality of the writing. But I am going to disagree with the label that goes with it, that of "really liked it." Because I did not. I feel no affection for this book, and I doubt that I will ever re-read it for many reasons that I will state below. But for those just reading this to get a quick glance about whether they should read it or not: you should, in short. It is worth it. I just would not expect to fall in love.

The book focuses on Major Scobie, a policeman in a British colony of West Africa, where Greene himself spent some time. It's set during WWII, which serves to set up the mood of distrust, fragility and vague apprehension that is to haunt the novel and our hero. Major Scobie is a Catholic, and he is married to a shallow, mild horror of a woman named Louise. Insert her unhappiness, his distance, another woman, another man, and you have your novel right there. Those are the basics. Okay, now I can move forward with this.

The book is essentially a character study of Major Scobie. And in that function, it is incredibly thorough, and makes sure to search into every area of his soul, several times over. We really do see the man laid naked in front of us. Which is appropriate, given that he's meant to be Christ figure (and casts himself in that role several times.). Even one of the priests says that "when people have a problem they go to you, not to me," and bemoans the fact that priests are not as useful as policemen. It's an interesting thought, but in any case. To me, he was an embodiment of abstract Catholic virtues, set out in one man, going about life as the Catholic Church would have you do. This made real sense to me for the first part of the novel, where Scobie is deconstructed very well, and Greene's conceit was quite effective, I thought. He shows us the difference between living your life as a man and living your life as an abstract virtue. Scobie stays untouched by the animal side of humans, the love, the anger, all vice ridden emotions found in the world that are not learned, but come from within. We do not see him exhibit any of these emotions. And honestly, you sort of dislike him for it. He is inhuman, which drives his wife and everyone who knows him crazy, and honestly, it drove me a little crazy too. But. I appreciated it as a message about living in the world rather than living apart from it, untouched by it. Scobie's major motivation is pity and compassion, which is exactly what Catholicism would tell you to do. But it seems so distant, so resigned, that its rather awful. You end in pitying Scobie as much as you do the clearly inferior characters around him. Or at least, I did. Graham Greene peppers this study with a great many insightful observations about death and the attachment that we really have for people, and what love really is.

**spoiler alert***

Which builds into the second half of the novel, which annoyed the flying fuck out of me, confused me and I'm really not sure if I agree with the premise of it at all. Essentially, Greene has Scobie become involved in an affair with a shipwrecked widow named Helen, who has absolutely no one. It's an incredibly sordid affair like one would expect to see in a soap opera, and Scobie is meant to seem all wrong for the role. He has Scobie motivated by pity for her, has him express that it is the weak, the ugly who demand his allegiance, not the beautiful and the intelligent. So this is what makes him succumb to Helen. And then on top of that, he says that he stays with her out of pity. That it was love in the beginning (which I don't believe, as they never show it at all, but skip forward to the part where he is lamenting how love is over) and then it is about duty and responsibility and keeping her happy because if he left, then she would be in pain, and he doesn't want to cause anybody pain. And then his wife comes back, and everyone tells her about the affair, and then she's in pain. And he can't leave either of them because they need him more than God does. That's a direct quote from him. Which is how he squares it with his sinning conscience, carrying on with the whole thing. And then he kills himself because people who love you forget you the second you die, and then nobody will be in pain anymore, and so he's sacrificing himself for them. I just cannot agree with the whole premise and excuse that Scobie makes for his conduct there. I don't believe he ever knew what love was, I don't believe in his reasoning for why he would have succumbed to Helen in all noble motivations. As a Catholic and a girl who's done it before herself, I can certainly see why you would be attracted to someone out of pity. Why you would feel love for people who need you. Fine. But there were many other ways to help Helen other than screwing her, sir. I don't buy that such a distant guy would have "fallen in love" due to pity. I buy that he stays with his wife out of pity and responsibility. I don't buy the whole affair, so I can't believe in his moral dilemma. Helen is painted as such an awful whore character I cannot believe why he would have been there at all. (We'll get to that in a second.) Then he goes screaming to God over and over again. I get the penchant for drama. I'm Catholic. Yes, it was interesting to try to see a man live exactly as the Church would tell him, and still to be a human being. But I don't buy that it happened to Scobie. I just hate the whole sordid interlude. I know I'm supposed to hate that its so sordid. But I just think that he made Scobie a much less interesting character throughout it, and everyone else involved were mere representations of what he needed to progress along his moral dilemma, not real people.

But. Given that. The last few chapters where he methodically plans his suicide, tries to save everyone the pain around him, quietly goes about his business, and the meditation on what it is like to know that you are leaving the world… that was good. That was heartbreaking. It was that effective quiet whisper of endless pain that I just thought was incredibly skillful and well done.

Okay, I really need to talk about what really offended me in this book though: the terrible misogyny. The characters in this book are horrific. There is an extremely strong Madonna/whore complex that runs throughout it, and is represented by the cardboard cutouts that are Louise and Helen. These women are represented exactly as a man who knew nothing about women but what he read in books would represent them as. Grasping, shallow, bitter, angry, small, but with amazing flashes of insight that awe men!.. and yet they are so childish at the same time, so fragile!.. and then they are so stupid the next second. I hated all the women in this book, and I'm pretty sure Graham Greene did, too. I hated that Louise and Helen weren't women, weren't people, but were mere representations of his moral dilemmas, one dimensional harpies who enacted him scenes, had emotional fits, and generally made his life a living hell. Poor baby man who only wanted peace, but no no, these screeching women just insist upon ruining his life! Women are the root of all evil. If it weren't for them, Scobie would be a perfect Christ angel! No wonder Greene converted to Catholicism, if this was his opinion of women. The Church agrees wholeheartedly. Women must be madonnas who look after your home, to be worshipped, who look after your spiritual well being, and stick by their men when they are unfaithful- i.e: Louise. Or they are lost souls who are ready to fuck the first man who comes by when their hero does not support them- like Helen. They have no inner strength of their own except in those first meetings that drew our hero to them, before they became harpies, like all the rest of women are! The two girls were virtually indistinguishable in their manner sometimes. Maybe that's why I just couldn't get into Scobie's dilemma. The women involved made me want to barf, and his bad taste in them, and his opinions of them as people just revolted me just as much.

End opinion: Graham Greene's writing: good, elegant, with quiet insight. Graham Greene's misogyny: godawful.
...less

Like this review? yes (3 people liked it)

4 comments

Laura rated it:

09/08/08

Read in August, 2008

recommends it for: lapsed (or practicing) Catholics; anyone with a slightly masochistic streak

Every time I read Graham Greene, I vow to read more Graham Greene. He digs so utterly, completely into the souls of his characters--really, you know them better than most of the real people in your life. Major Scobie is no exception. In fact, everything about this man is laid bare.

Scobie is a good man. He is upstanding and moral in a place (British colonial West Africa), time (WWII), and profession (the police) that values deception, injustice, and corruption. The petty colonial Briti...more Every time I read Graham Greene, I vow to read more Graham Greene. He digs so utterly, completely into the souls of his characters--really, you know them better than most of the real people in your life. Major Scobie is no exception. In fact, everything about this man is laid bare.

Scobie is a good man. He is upstanding and moral in a place (British colonial West Africa), time (WWII), and profession (the police) that values deception, injustice, and corruption. The petty colonial British society in the unnamed West African country where he is stationed finds it disagreeable that he has nothing to hide, so they make up scandals to pin on him. Another reviewer mentioned the unsympathetic and shallow portrayals of the women in Scobie's life; they are that way because the whole society is that way. If one looks at the other important male characters around Scobie, one finds that they are equally shallow and unsympathetic. It's not misogyny that drives Greene's portrayals; it's disgust for upper-middle-class colonial British society (see Forster's A Passage to India for another take on that). The point is that Scobie is different than they are.

But back to Scobie himself. He is a Catholic who truly believes in God, suffering, and redemption. He won't take communion in a state of sin, but he also won't confess when he knows he has no intention of quitting his sin and feels no remorse. There is a scene towards the end, when his wife practically begs him to go to Mass--and communion--with her, and he finally agrees. The wrenching torment he feels at receiving the Host in his disgraced state is as harrowing and traumatic as a battle scene would play out in any other writer's work. And after he's taken it, he feels as bereft as any soldier who's lost a limb would. My heart actually beat faster, and I felt a sucking horror on reading it (maybe that's just because I'm Catholic, though--hehe).

Scobie is moral in the the traditional societal sense--but he also feels an irresistible responsibility towards others. The turning point for him is when his wife insists she must get away to South Africa--for her sake, for his sake--to give him some peace, she says. He can't afford to send her, but he knows how much she wants it, so to make her happy, he gets a loan from a disreputable businessman. The loan is on the level, but it leads to other favors being asked, and hence to corruption for Scobie. Then comes another temptation in the form of a fellow human who is weak, desperate, and alone. Again Scobie must (or feels he must) be the savior, and becomes the lover of a young widowed shipwreck victim. It wasn't what he intended, but intense friendship, especially when pity or gratitude is a component, does at times turn passionate, even without the consent of the parties involved.

In the end, Scobie is so conflicted and unable to see a way to making everyone happy--everyone he cares about, anyway--that he decides the only solution is to remove himself from their lives. And he does so; but in doing so, he condemns himself to eternal damnation, at least in his mind. He makes this ultimate sacrifice of his own salvation because of his love, pity, mercy--whatever you want to call it--for those who are petty, misunderstanding, undeserving, and unworthy.

This is true tragedy: the hero has a tragic flaw, that which is within himself, that leads him to his own demise. It was very affecting. Bravo, once again, to Graham Greene.

...less

Like this review? yes (2 people liked it)

title link
avg rating
small image
med image
large image

The Heart of the Matter

book data

new topic discuss this book

friend reviews

lists with this book

other reviews (showing 1-20 of 1967)

blog this book

combine other editions (23)

new topic
discuss this book

combine
other editions (23)