A Defense of Michael O'Brien

"It's probably not a great work of literature.  But he poured his heart into it.  It's about the search for beauty and for love in a fallen world."
"A well-examined theme in literature."
"The favorite of serious writers."
"One might even say, the favorite theme of the human heart."
"I suppose that's true."--Michael O'Brien, Father Elijah, pg. 347.

I was reading around Mark Shea's blog and stumbled across a spate of Michael O'Brien bashing in the comments on this post.

I have to put in a word of defense for O’Brien here. While I agree that his formal style can be off-putting and his writing is not the best, I would argue that he does far, far more good than harm. There are depths to his books which the Left Behind series never begins to dream exist, let alone expose. He manages sympathetic portrayals of people who have fallen very far and very hard–for all that he tends to be rather black and white about things (see the whole Harry Potter brouhaha), in his novels, at least, you have some very sympathetic portrayals of gay characters (Smokrev; Pawel Tarnowski), of atheists and agnostics (Ann Delaney), of even architects of the reign of evil (Maurice L’Oraison). The characters are given reasons for the wrong they do that transcend the simplistic style of LaHaye and Jenkins by far, and actually ground and round out the characters in a manner far beyond the sort of awfulness I hear people accuse him of perpetrating.

O’Brien writes icons, both with paint and with his pen. The books are the product of fairly substantial prayer, I think, and reflection, as well as study. Are they great literature? No. Are they good books? I think so. Are they capable of saving souls and turning lives around? Yes, and I’ve seen them do it. Do they answer a substantial need in our time? Yes. For all that they may be obvious to the experienced practicing Catholic, they came as a great light to me when I was in college and trying to figure out what the heck had happened to the Jesuit universities. He does a great exposure of the illnesses of modernity, answering some of the deepest questions asked by contemporary man, and does it well. He gives answers many people will never have heard before in a readable context. Don’t discount what a great contribution that is. Until we have better Catholic fiction writers working in the world today, O’Brien fills a major void, and I think his work has the potential to endure because it’s so thoroughly grounded in eternal things, telling archetypal stories.

I agree that he intends to be a culture warrior–I think, given some of his life experiences, it’s more understandable than in many others.  His adamantly militant stance on some issues make him tone-deaf occasionally (the whole Harry Potter affair), but he also conveys a great deal of the richness of the faith in his books.

I don’t know nearly enough about icons and so forth to judge his art, but I think his method is the same–praying, writing, with a greater concern for fidelity to the truth and the light given than perhaps for the highest standards of literature and art. He’s contributing a great deal more to the Church and the world than he’s being given credit for in many of these comments. Is he as good a writer as Walter Miller, John Wright, Michael Flynn, or the others listed here? Probably not. But I think his work will last because his books reflect the reality of the struggle within the Church right now.

He has accurately and sympathetically held up a mirror to certain great problems in the modern age. He has listened to the teachings of John Paul II, among many others, and translated them into readable, workmanlike stories (even if he’s not a great writer). Christ calls us to do good work–I think O’Brien has done good work.

Not all Christian literature needs to be at the level of the Divine Comedy, the work of Sigrid Undset, Harry Potter, or The Lord of the Rings. There has always been and always will be the kitschy and the clumsy. All of it is part of the rich texture of a living culture. We need great art, yes. But of course, there has been and will continue to be merely good art, merely decent art, serviceable art, and bad art. And I think there’s a place for most of that.

I would argue that O'Brien, overall, crafts good art, with moments and intersections of his Children of the Last Days cycle touching the level great art.  He manages to make his work transparent to God, permitting the reader to see the world through the eyes of Christ and Christ's Church at key points.  His formalism doesn't always sit well with me--I think there are times when he's writing too deeply in the tradition of the Russian novelists, inheriting too great a touch of the stylized from Eastern European sensibilities.  But again--I think he does good, necessary, valuable work.

He made as if to go back down the mountain, but stopped and looked back at the statue.  A pathetic, lifeless madonna, devoid of artistic sense, and yet a symbol through which the Mother had come.  It was her way, of course, for she had been a small poor maiden of Nazareth.  Images of her were crowned in cathedrals throughout the world, icons painted by saints and statues carved by geniuses.  She was loved and glorified through these mighty works, and through them she drew souls to glorify her Son, the One to whom she always and everywhere pointed.  And yet she did not spurn the lowliest images, for they too were sign lifted up in the darkness of history, without false glory or human pride of accomplishment, words made from the clay of the earth and painted with pigments wrung from the earth by gnarled hands that toiled in the earth and hoped for paradise.--Michael O'Brien, Father Elijah, pg. 483

If you'd like to explore O'Brien's work, I'd recommend starting with Father Elijah: An Apocalypse. If you'd like a meditation on doubt, spiritual darkness, and a life without faith, pick up Strangers and Sojourners (Children of the Last Days) (v. 1). If you want to watch the life of a saint unfold before you, pick up A Cry of Stone.