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A Canticle for Leibowitz
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A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M. Miller Jr.
While I really liked the last 2 sections of this book, I had a lot of trouble with the first section. For years I couldn't get through it. I just find the entire idea of such a monastic life too ludicrous, horrible, & pointless.
Non-spoiler Background: A Canticle for Leibowitz was first published as a novel in 1959, a rework of three separate stories published in Fantasy and Science Fiction magazine in 1955 & 1956.
It was the height of the Cold War. Nuclear war was considered a real possibility. People built and stocked fallout shelters. There were air raid drills. We practiced hiding under our desks at school (because 1" of solid pine is almost as much protection from an atomic blast as a refrigerator.)
Miller imagines the world a millennium after a global thermonuclear war, where civilization has returned to the Middle Ages and most of the knowledge of the ancients has been lost.
A Canticle for Leibowitz was the subject of an article in last month's New Yorker magazine: A Science-Fiction Classic Still Smolders. (I posted that link a couple of months ago.)
Edit: Wikipedia has this helpful List of Latin phrases in A Canticle for Leibowitz.
It was the height of the Cold War. Nuclear war was considered a real possibility. People built and stocked fallout shelters. There were air raid drills. We practiced hiding under our desks at school (because 1" of solid pine is almost as much protection from an atomic blast as a refrigerator.)
Miller imagines the world a millennium after a global thermonuclear war, where civilization has returned to the Middle Ages and most of the knowledge of the ancients has been lost.
A Canticle for Leibowitz was the subject of an article in last month's New Yorker magazine: A Science-Fiction Classic Still Smolders. (I posted that link a couple of months ago.)
Edit: Wikipedia has this helpful List of Latin phrases in A Canticle for Leibowitz.
Jim wrote: "While I really liked the last 2 sections of this book, I had a lot of trouble with the first section. For years I couldn't get through it. I just find the entire idea of such a monastic life too ludicrous, horrible, & pointless. "
And yet... that is arguably the most realistic part of the novel.
And yet... that is arguably the most realistic part of the novel.
Yes, it was a fix-up -- a bolting together of several parts. One of the most successful ones, too.This is deservedly a classic of the genre, one of the first uses of real religious belief in a field that up until this point was agnostic/atheistic. A grand use of the 'write what you know' advice that they give to young writers.
Incidentally, for the research minded, Wikipedia has this very helpful
List of Latin phrases in A Canticle for Leibowitz .
Just in case you didn't grow up in ancient Rome.
It's interesting that in Miller's future millennium, Latin is more widely known than 20th century English.
List of Latin phrases in A Canticle for Leibowitz .
Just in case you didn't grow up in ancient Rome.
It's interesting that in Miller's future millennium, Latin is more widely known than 20th century English.
I'd argue against the first section being the most realistic. They all had a lot of realism & strangeness in them. Of course, when it comes to religion, there is no logic & masochism seems to be condoned, even expected.The third section held the best part, IMO. The moral question is so well done that a friend of mine, very religious, & myself, anti-religious, both liked it.
Jim wrote: "I'd argue against the first section being the most realistic. ..."
I didn't mean the whole first third of the novel — just the whole monastery / fasting for Lent thing you find so ludicrous & pointless. Miller didn't make that stuff up, it's been going on for two millennia.
In his post-Nuclear world, Miller has mimicked the role of the Church monasteries during the Middle Ages as the preserver of literacy and learning in Western Europe after the collapse of the Western Roman Empire. (The Eastern Roman Empire, aka the Byzantine Empire, also preserved the Roman Empire's culture and learning, continuing well into the Renaissance; but that's another story.)
I didn't mean the whole first third of the novel — just the whole monastery / fasting for Lent thing you find so ludicrous & pointless. Miller didn't make that stuff up, it's been going on for two millennia.
In his post-Nuclear world, Miller has mimicked the role of the Church monasteries during the Middle Ages as the preserver of literacy and learning in Western Europe after the collapse of the Western Roman Empire. (The Eastern Roman Empire, aka the Byzantine Empire, also preserved the Roman Empire's culture and learning, continuing well into the Renaissance; but that's another story.)
What it shows is how a culture has to have many legs -- like a chair. So if one leg fails, hopefully some other leg can take up the slack and carry humanity forward. And to have this supporting leg be TOTALLY different is good.This is also one of the many post-nuclear holocaust novels that were written at this period -- a subgenrelet that is more or less out of style now. The Bomb was the first tech humans developed that could actually wipe us all out. We are blase now because we have so many other ways to do it.
Brenda wrote: "...This is also one of the many post-nuclear holocaust novels that were written at this period -- a subgenrelet that is more or less out of style now. The Bomb was the first tech humans developed that could actually wipe us all out. We are blase now because we have so many other ways to do it. "
I could think of a lot of post-nuclear war books that look at the immediate aftermath (Shute's On the Beach (1957) probably being the most prominent, and Zelazny's later Damnation Alley (1967)). But I couldn't think of one with such a long-term view of the post-war dark ages. Maybe Ellison's campy A Boy And His Dog (1969).
I think one of the better old post-apocalyptic novels from that period, Stewart's Earth Abides (1949), strangely doesn't use nuclear war but rather a global plague to describe both the fall and early rebirth of its civilization.
(Hollywood seems to delight in such things, though, since Mad Max. Although as you say, environmental collapse, disease and aliens seems to be more popular post-apocalyptic themes these days. McCarthy's recent The Road (2006) doesn't even bother explaining the cause of the apocalypse of which is post-. But then it doesn't treat with either collapse or rebirth. okay)
And of course Zombies; you can't go wrong with zombies destroying civilization!
I could think of a lot of post-nuclear war books that look at the immediate aftermath (Shute's On the Beach (1957) probably being the most prominent, and Zelazny's later Damnation Alley (1967)). But I couldn't think of one with such a long-term view of the post-war dark ages. Maybe Ellison's campy A Boy And His Dog (1969).
I think one of the better old post-apocalyptic novels from that period, Stewart's Earth Abides (1949), strangely doesn't use nuclear war but rather a global plague to describe both the fall and early rebirth of its civilization.
(Hollywood seems to delight in such things, though, since Mad Max. Although as you say, environmental collapse, disease and aliens seems to be more popular post-apocalyptic themes these days. McCarthy's recent The Road (2006) doesn't even bother explaining the cause of the apocalypse of which is post-. But then it doesn't treat with either collapse or rebirth. okay)
And of course Zombies; you can't go wrong with zombies destroying civilization!
It's the darn near dying of thirst & sitting out in the middle of the desert that I found horrible & pointless. The poor kid really had limited choices in life. He's (view spoiler)
Brenda wrote: "What it shows is how a culture has to have many legs -- like a chair. So if one leg fails, hopefully some other leg can take up the slack and carry humanity forward. And to have this supporting leg..."I guess I'm being dense, but what is the 'it' that you're referring to? Was it something to do with my original post, would have been #9 & is now #11? Are you referring to religion being a leg of civilization?
No, what CANTICLE demonstrates is another leg of the culture.And the futility of the young monk's life and death is precisely it. You do stuff, good stuff, and you pour your heart and soul into it. Is it important, in the long run? There is no way for you to know. MOBY DICK was a flop when it came out. Jane Austen's first book got published because her brother was able to put the financial squeeze on the publisher. What you think was important may be a side show, and the main event is going on in the center ring. But it's cool. Because of your side show, the main event was able to be staged.
I have somewhere on my hard drive a mp.3 of the BBC radio drama of this one (I think...maybe it was from somewhere else...it's been awhile since I gave it a listen)...I liked the 3ed section the best, mostly because I like seeing the planet blown up (in my fiction that is)...I'm just weird that way.....
also, I always rember this one as being by Zelazny instead of Miller....I haven't the foggiest why....
Thanks, Brenda. I think the theme that got to me the most was how religion did so many good things for bad reasons, such as (view spoiler), while science did so many bad things for good reasons, such as (view spoiler). Good & bad are judgement calls, of course.
I find it really interesting in light of a nonfiction book Before the Dawn: Recovering the Lost History of Our Ancestors I recently read that said religion was probably one of our oldest civilizing tools. It was one of the things that bound small nomadic tribes into larger, cooperative units. The book I'm listening to now The World Without Us is making me wonder if even that was a good idea. (Yes, it's depressing.)
;)
First page is gorgeous. (Humour's an addition). I've managed to forget most of this book, unless it comes back as I read. I've just read an entire novel set in a medieval monastery, so I'm prepped for that aspect.
I don't suppose his Simplification is informed by any historical precedent -- as his church is? I'm only halfway through part one.
I'm having a bit of trouble because I'm invested in what we used to call the Dark Ages, but don't now since we admit they... weren't that dark. So I'm getting itchy at the strong parallel. The assumption that outside the church is a crap world. I know we're not in history, we're in the future. But he uses that parallel, so I have to parallel. And when he writes about the godforsaken heathen savages whose rampages are a threat to civil order, I think, I bet they have a culture of their own, I'd like to hear their side of the story. Maybe they've even retained lifeways from hunter/gatherer cultures, the oldest cultures of the world that have proved survivalist? Up until modernity. But I have to wonder if his 'primitive' cultures have a link to old societies.I might find out further in the book.
Still loved part one despite misgivings above. Strangely moving even though I was resistant here and there.
Bryn wrote: "I'm having a bit of trouble because I'm invested in what we used to call the Dark Ages, but don't now since we admit they... weren't that dark...."Good point. I think we have to roll with that for the sake of the story, but keep it in mind. I'd like to hear how you think it relates at the end.
I have read this book maybe twice, and thought it extremely well written. However I don't want to read it again because the story is so depressing. Re the Dark Ages; not everyone may know that when the rise of barbarian tribes (as the Romans saw them) was clearly coming, the Pope at the time sent the most valuable books of knowledge from the Great Library at Alexandria to be stored safely in Ireland. The books were thus saved from the burning of the Library. At that time, Ireland was a tiny island off a larger island off Europe, too far for plunderers to bother with until the seafaring Norse came along.
Later eras saw the Irish monks, who had copied and recopied the manuscripts, take the knowledge back into Europe as they established monasteries and taught local people. This is the basis for Canticle.
Part I: Fiat Homo
Unlike Jim, I really enjoyed this section.
I liked Brother Francis, ardent, naïve and completely guileless; and possessed of an unshakable faith in Saint Leibowitz and a dogged determination to complete his vows, no matter how many times he must repeat his Lenten desert fast.
I like the way the story mined humor from the sketchy and erroneous understanding of the pre-Deluge time. They think The Fallout is some sort of creature. Brother Francis confesses his incomplete knowledge of English, especially when multiple nouns are used as modifiers, such as "Fallout Survival Shelter" or "Transistorized Control Unit". Dedicated to preserving the artifacts of the venerated Liebowitz, he dutifully replicates a blueprint despite understanding none of it, like a monk transcribing a document in a language he doesn't understand, painstakingly painting the negative space with blue ink (perhaps there is no white ink?) And then dedicating himself for a dozen years to creating an illuminated manuscript copying and embellishing the same diagram. (I know Jim thinks this is a horrible waste, and it is, and yet Brother Francis completes the task out of ignorance coupled with a desire to preserve the past.)
Unlike Jim, I really enjoyed this section.
I liked Brother Francis, ardent, naïve and completely guileless; and possessed of an unshakable faith in Saint Leibowitz and a dogged determination to complete his vows, no matter how many times he must repeat his Lenten desert fast.
I like the way the story mined humor from the sketchy and erroneous understanding of the pre-Deluge time. They think The Fallout is some sort of creature. Brother Francis confesses his incomplete knowledge of English, especially when multiple nouns are used as modifiers, such as "Fallout Survival Shelter" or "Transistorized Control Unit". Dedicated to preserving the artifacts of the venerated Liebowitz, he dutifully replicates a blueprint despite understanding none of it, like a monk transcribing a document in a language he doesn't understand, painstakingly painting the negative space with blue ink (perhaps there is no white ink?) And then dedicating himself for a dozen years to creating an illuminated manuscript copying and embellishing the same diagram. (I know Jim thinks this is a horrible waste, and it is, and yet Brother Francis completes the task out of ignorance coupled with a desire to preserve the past.)
G33z3r wrote: "...(I know Jim thinks this is a horrible waste, and it is, and yet Brother Francis completes the task out of ignorance coupled with a desire to preserve the past.) "In my review of the audio edition, I wrote the following:
...We learn who & what Lebowitz really was with wry, understated humor. There is a bleak sense of idiotic accomplishment, men doing the right thing even though the reasons are shrouded in myth & often ridiculous on their face. The church preserves, even though it does so in almost complete ignorance, enforcing a horrible humility upon its people. That it is better than the alternatives is just awful.
The full review is here:
https://www.goodreads.com/review/show...
How do the rest of you feel about the wanderer? He's a figure of fantasy. In many ways, the figure wasn't really needed & I didn't like him. I actually resented the implication in some ways as I felt he weakened the story giving it a fantastic bent. In another way, he lends continuity, a sense of perspective, & some more wry humor.
Notice that Miller cleverly gives him two possible identities. He may be Lazarus of Bethany, sister of Mary and Martha, raised by Jesus from the dead: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lazarus_... He does mention looking for the guy who yelled 'come forth' at him.He may also be the Wandering Jew: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wanderin...
Certain he is =a= wandering Jew, and therefore this is not unreasonable.
I did notice that. I wondered how everyone felt about his role in the book. Useful? A distraction?
Jim wrote: "I did notice that. I wondered how everyone felt about his role in the book. Useful? A distraction?"Actually I was expecting that he would play a major role at the end of the book. Still, I liked the ending.
He does play a role in the 'sequel,' SAINT LEIBOWITZ AND THE WILD HORSE WOMAN. This was cobbled together by another writer from odd notes that Miller left after his death. It is totally unreadable.
We have the sequel here but I have not got around to it.
It is bizarre. I can't imagine what they were thinking.
Brenda, my husband agrees with you after reading this book.
I found the sequel in an used shop (I'd never heard there was one). Saint Leibowitz and the Wild Horse Woman. Quite eager to try on the description and a few reviews that think it's a masterpiece. Besides that, I'm sorry for a writer who found his follow-up, post-fame novel impossible to write; if it's a trainwreck, then I'm interested to see it for that fact. Indeed, his potted bio here says he didn't publish anything after Canticle? For thirty years. Even short stories, which he had pumped out between the war and Canticle.
I don't know Miller's history, but he did have a demanding day job, as I recall.
Part II: Fiat Lux
The second part of this triptych is quite different in tone from the first. Miller drops the wry smile, takes off the gloves, and starts throwing punches.
Many generations after Brother Francis's story, "civilization" is beginning to get organized. And with it, despots with dreams of empire arise. The noted natural philosopher (scientist) Thon Taddeo comes to peruse the Abbey's ancient archives, and incidentally you Brother Kornhoer re-invention of the electric generator and electric light.
Taddeo serves one of the large rising nationstates of the New World order, Texarkana, that is setting out on continental conquest. History it seems is about to repeat itself.
Taddeo doesn't feel he concerns himself with politics, though Texarkana has funded the establishment of his collegium. Confidentially he doesn't support Texarkana's military ambitions, but he won't oppose them because he wishes to continue his pursuit of "pure science", even if those discoveries provide weaponry to the combatants.
One wonders if Taddeo is a stand-in for someone such as Oppenheimer or von Braun; he doesn't really want to use the weapons, but he can't resist seeing if it works. The decision to use it isn't his, after all.
The present Liebowitzian Abbot Paulo tries to argue that knowledge, natural philosophy, needs to proceed responsibly, but Taddeo isn't interested in that responsibility.
In the end, Brother Kornhoer takes down the electric light he (re)created and hangs the old crucifix back up where the lamp had hung.
I also enjoyed a rather wistful side conversation Abbot Paulo had with Old Benjamin / Lazarus as he confronts the knowledge that the memorabilia his Abbey has protected for centuries is now being studied by scholars from outside. It's sort of the bittersweet completion of the Abbey of Leibowitz's original mission, and yet leaves him wondering what's next, now that they're multi-generational mission is almost accomplished.
The second part of this triptych is quite different in tone from the first. Miller drops the wry smile, takes off the gloves, and starts throwing punches.
Many generations after Brother Francis's story, "civilization" is beginning to get organized. And with it, despots with dreams of empire arise. The noted natural philosopher (scientist) Thon Taddeo comes to peruse the Abbey's ancient archives, and incidentally you Brother Kornhoer re-invention of the electric generator and electric light.
Taddeo serves one of the large rising nationstates of the New World order, Texarkana, that is setting out on continental conquest. History it seems is about to repeat itself.
Taddeo doesn't feel he concerns himself with politics, though Texarkana has funded the establishment of his collegium. Confidentially he doesn't support Texarkana's military ambitions, but he won't oppose them because he wishes to continue his pursuit of "pure science", even if those discoveries provide weaponry to the combatants.
One wonders if Taddeo is a stand-in for someone such as Oppenheimer or von Braun; he doesn't really want to use the weapons, but he can't resist seeing if it works. The decision to use it isn't his, after all.
The present Liebowitzian Abbot Paulo tries to argue that knowledge, natural philosophy, needs to proceed responsibly, but Taddeo isn't interested in that responsibility.
In the end, Brother Kornhoer takes down the electric light he (re)created and hangs the old crucifix back up where the lamp had hung.
I also enjoyed a rather wistful side conversation Abbot Paulo had with Old Benjamin / Lazarus as he confronts the knowledge that the memorabilia his Abbey has protected for centuries is now being studied by scholars from outside. It's sort of the bittersweet completion of the Abbey of Leibowitz's original mission, and yet leaves him wondering what's next, now that they're multi-generational mission is almost accomplished.
G33z3r wrote: "And yet... that is arguably the most realistic part of the novel. "
Yes. As I write my next goodreads review I'll be pondering the differences, if any, between that and Francis in the scriptorium.
Yes. As I write my next goodreads review I'll be pondering the differences, if any, between that and Francis in the scriptorium.
Bryn wrote: "if it's a trainwreck, then I'm interested to see it for that fact. ..."My own opinion is that 'Canticle' was an all-time Great . . . but the sequel was so bad as to discredit those reviewers who wrote anything good about it!
Good luck!
Trying to find out a bit more about Miller. The writer who finished the sequel at least states that the work was in near-finished condition, without an ending:
It was almost perfect. There wasn't a line or a word out of place. This was no rough draft or heap of fragments, but a seamless, exotic and incredibly rich masterpiece that motored along confidently, elegantly and masterfully for 592 pages--
And then stopped short.
... Miller had left a fairly detailed outline showing where he wanted the book to go. I wrote the last hundred-odd pages of the book according to Miller's instructions. I used every word of his dialogue and description, and even worked in scraps from Canticle for continuity.
http://www.sff.net/people/tbisson/mil...
Just because it COULD be done doesn't mean it SHOULD be done.
Jim wrote: "I did notice that. I wondered how everyone felt about his role in the book. Useful? A distraction?"At the moment his role seems to be to add a Jewish perspective to meditations on the Catholic Church in history. -- I've just finished the Paulo-Benjamin conversation. I guess this conversation gives an out on the fantasy: if he has taken on the identity of a people. As Paulo muses on in relation to Original Sin, and perhaps to the Church's continuity of identity...
Paulo is well-drawn, the most internal so far. I prefer the monastery story to the secular political world which hasn't much subtlety (I can't believe in Mad Bear, except as a Type. A type of what?) I look forward to getting to know Taddeo better.
Suspect, at this stage, I'll be fondest of the 1st part, as memory now tells me I was. I think I liked the simplicity of setting and Francis' naivety.
This book has amazing reversals. When he discovers that capsule or ship or whatever, buried, that's a big one. Leaving is a big moment.
Part III: Fiat Voluntas Tua
The final segment of Canticle takes us full circle, a distant future where the world has reestablished technologies comparable to Miller's present day and a bit beyond. (It is worth remembering that when Miller wrote the original story in 1956, we hadn't even seen Sputnik yet, much less nuclear weapons stationed in outer space. Sad that all these predictions seems to have been inevitable.
The world once again steps into global thermonuclear war. Current Liebowitzian Abbot Zerchi thinks it's even worse this time, since there are still mutants like the two-headed Mrs Grales as well as ample historical evidence demonstrating the consequences of such a war. And yet they pull the trigger anyway.
The church once again tries to preserve what human knowledge they can for the future, whatever that might be.
It's a sad, depressing commentary on mankind's infinite ability to ignore the consequences of its actions.
Along the way, Miller inserts a philosophical discussion of euthanasia, pitting the Church's view against that of a dying mother and her suffering infant, victims of radiation sickness. Once again the Abbott of Leibowitz is struggling to keep the heathen government out of his Abbey, while still completing his ministry. When mortally injured himself, he doggedly clings to life in the belief it's his duty to God to embrace the pain as long as possible.
The final segment of Canticle takes us full circle, a distant future where the world has reestablished technologies comparable to Miller's present day and a bit beyond. (It is worth remembering that when Miller wrote the original story in 1956, we hadn't even seen Sputnik yet, much less nuclear weapons stationed in outer space. Sad that all these predictions seems to have been inevitable.
The world once again steps into global thermonuclear war. Current Liebowitzian Abbot Zerchi thinks it's even worse this time, since there are still mutants like the two-headed Mrs Grales as well as ample historical evidence demonstrating the consequences of such a war. And yet they pull the trigger anyway.
The church once again tries to preserve what human knowledge they can for the future, whatever that might be.
It's a sad, depressing commentary on mankind's infinite ability to ignore the consequences of its actions.
Along the way, Miller inserts a philosophical discussion of euthanasia, pitting the Church's view against that of a dying mother and her suffering infant, victims of radiation sickness. Once again the Abbott of Leibowitz is struggling to keep the heathen government out of his Abbey, while still completing his ministry. When mortally injured himself, he doggedly clings to life in the belief it's his duty to God to embrace the pain as long as possible.
The song to play when you read this? "After the Gold Rush," by Neil Young.
I just finished Canticle and can't say that I love it, but I do appreciate it. This work is a classic that artfully captures the mood of its era. The author of the New York Times article that G33z3r linked bemoans the lack of interpersonal, emotional encounters -- and I concur with that sentiment. But I've found that to be true with most classic sci-fi... much philosophizing and little doing. That made the few colorful characters all the more enjoyable for me. Benjamin/Lazarus/Wandering Jew and the Poet were my favorite parts of the story because they got us out of the monastery and broadened the lens a bit.
Anyone else find the Poet irritating?Enjoyed the poem of the centuries beginning part 3.
Back to the Wandering Jew figure -- from where I am, start Part 3: given the cyclical argument evident by now, is his waiting for the messiah a hope to stop the cycle or exit the inevitable? But nobody he peers at can do that.
Jeez. Lot of poetry in part 3. It's lyrical. Heartfelt I guess.
Finished. Speechless.
Jim wrote: "How do the rest of you feel about the wanderer? He's a figure of fantasy. In many ways, the figure wasn't really needed & I didn't like him...."
Towards the third part, the Wanderer names himself as "Lazarus", so Miller's intent seems clear. (There's no canonical account of the life of Lazarus of Bethany after his resurrection in the Bible, and some non-canonical sources disagree, but none claim he became immortal.)
One could of course decide to take the interpretation that the 3 enigmas in the three parts, separated so widely and time, are actually different characters. (As Bryn mentioned.)
In part I he's not named and simply passes by Brother Francis. The two glyphs this stranger writes on the rock are part of the Hebrew Elazar (which became Lazarus in Latin.) He's the subject of some speculation by the monks, as whether he might've been St. Leibowitz.
In part II, there's an "Old Jew" living up on the Mesa named Benjamin. Some of his obscure statements aside, he could be an entirely different person, though clearly Miller wants us to conflate them. He provides a sounding board for for the current Abbot.
In part III, his role is even smaller. As Bryn suggest, he seems to be waiting for the second coming. He seems to take the recurring destruction of human civilization as inevitable until then. Part of original sin? If you wish, you could still take the point of view he's a different Benjamin, though equally mad. (This seems unlikely.)
We might consider his fantastical identity together with that of Mrs. Grales's Rachel and what Abbot Zerchi calls her Immaculate Conception at the hour of his death. Born from the ashes of the first nuclear war and awakened by the opening blast of the second, with what Zerchi calls "pure innocence", perhaps she is the second coming? (Unlikely as it is that Miller would imagine such a gender swap.)
To answer Jim's question, no the character didn't bother me, even though he is a fantasy element. Despite the implications of his identity, it really doesn't play a role in the story per se. As the sole commentator through all 3 parts, he doesn't offer much commentary. (He did, unintentionally, provide the face of St. Leibowitz as it appears on the wooden statue, though he disclaims being Leibowitz.)
Towards the third part, the Wanderer names himself as "Lazarus", so Miller's intent seems clear. (There's no canonical account of the life of Lazarus of Bethany after his resurrection in the Bible, and some non-canonical sources disagree, but none claim he became immortal.)
One could of course decide to take the interpretation that the 3 enigmas in the three parts, separated so widely and time, are actually different characters. (As Bryn mentioned.)
In part I he's not named and simply passes by Brother Francis. The two glyphs this stranger writes on the rock are part of the Hebrew Elazar (which became Lazarus in Latin.) He's the subject of some speculation by the monks, as whether he might've been St. Leibowitz.
In part II, there's an "Old Jew" living up on the Mesa named Benjamin. Some of his obscure statements aside, he could be an entirely different person, though clearly Miller wants us to conflate them. He provides a sounding board for for the current Abbot.
In part III, his role is even smaller. As Bryn suggest, he seems to be waiting for the second coming. He seems to take the recurring destruction of human civilization as inevitable until then. Part of original sin? If you wish, you could still take the point of view he's a different Benjamin, though equally mad. (This seems unlikely.)
We might consider his fantastical identity together with that of Mrs. Grales's Rachel and what Abbot Zerchi calls her Immaculate Conception at the hour of his death. Born from the ashes of the first nuclear war and awakened by the opening blast of the second, with what Zerchi calls "pure innocence", perhaps she is the second coming? (Unlikely as it is that Miller would imagine such a gender swap.)
To answer Jim's question, no the character didn't bother me, even though he is a fantasy element. Despite the implications of his identity, it really doesn't play a role in the story per se. As the sole commentator through all 3 parts, he doesn't offer much commentary. (He did, unintentionally, provide the face of St. Leibowitz as it appears on the wooden statue, though he disclaims being Leibowitz.)
The Messiah that the Jew (within the context of this book) is in search of is not the Son o' God of the Christians. He's ISO the political leader, the king who will rule the nations justly. (Remember how he looks into Thom Taddeo's face and then is disappointed.) It's not a religious search, it's a search for good government. One of the things the book is about is how difficult it is, to have a just and good society. Even within a very small subdivision of it (the Abbey, say) it easily runs off the rails. And when a slip leads to the termination of the human race, this makes it very fraught indeed.And why is the road so narrow? Why is it so easy to run off the rails? That question (the answer is original sin) is handled by the Abbot.
Sci-fi and Heroic Fantasy
Books mentioned in this topic
Undeniable: Evolution and the Science of Creation (other topics)Ender's Shadow (other topics)
The Name of the Rose (other topics)
Before the Dawn: Recovering the Lost History of Our Ancestors (other topics)
The Faith Instinct: How Religion Evolved and Why It Endures (other topics)
More...
Authors mentioned in this topic
Bill Nye (other topics)A.A. Attanasio (other topics)
Walter M. Miller Jr. (other topics)
Winner of the 1961 Hugo Award.