Morte D'Urban (New York Review Books Classics)
J.F. Powers
Language: English
Pages: 336
ISBN: 0940322234
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Winner of The 1963 National Book Award for Fiction.
The hero of J.F. Powers's comic masterpiece is Father Urban, a man of the cloth who is also a man of the world. Charming, with an expansive vision of the spiritual life and a high tolerance for moral ambiguity, Urban enjoys a national reputation as a speaker on the religious circuit and has big plans for the future. But then the provincial head of his dowdy religious order banishes him to a retreat house in the Minnesota hinterlands. Father Urban soon bounces back, carrying God's word with undaunted enthusiasm through the golf courses, fishing lodges, and backyard barbecues of his new turf. Yet even as he triumphs his tribulations mount, and in the end his greatest success proves a setback from which he cannot recover.
First published in 1962, Morte D'Urban has been praised by writers as various as Gore Vidal, William Gass, Mary Gordon, and Philip Roth. This beautifully observed, often hilarious tale of a most unlikely Knight of Faith is among the finest achievements of an author whose singular vision assures him a permanent place in American literature.
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The Top 42. Late in January, after the program had been off the air for a month, the new Provincial came forward with a proposal: fifteen minutes on a smaller station, “Father Clem Answers Your Question” to occupy the time slot between “Civil Service News” and the “Transylvanian Hour,” which had already moved from the larger station and gone from a half hour to fifteen minutes. The proposal was received in silence, and voted down. The new Provincial didn’t seem to care. Father Siegfried said that.
Chmielewski would do now, Wilf didn’t know. Father Chmielewski had sounded a little confused. “If he does send over the wallet—wallets—well, I’m hoping he doesn’t come himself. I don’t think he will. If he does, though, we’ll have to say something. And if he brings your pants, Father—we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Oh Lord!” “You don’t think Father Chmielewski thinks we’re trying to steal his pants, do you?” said Father Urban. “Because if you do, the fact that Jack left his.
Will there? From Duesterhaus? About a mile from downtown Duesterhaus. That’s right. So you get in touch with your moderator, and after we hear from him, if it’s at all possible, I’ll come. Father Wilfrid. That’s right. Two i’s. And thanks for calling.” Wilf appeared somewhat shaken by what he’d heard. “But what if the Bishop doesn’t write?” “Frankly, I’ll be surprised if he does.” “Just playing hard to get, eh?” “Not a-tall. Why should I knock myself out for somebody who sends me a post card?.
“Better pack. I’ve decided to send you to St Monica’s, after all. Phil’s been good to us, and you’ll be able to handle some of those speaking engagements you’re turning down now.” “Whatever you say,” said Father Urban. 7. THE MOST A MAN CAN DO PHIL SMITH, PASTOR of St Monica’s, though rather puffy in the face and gray-looking, was still a handsome man. His friend Monsignor Renton, Rector of the Cathedral, was large and pink, with a jug head, splendid white teeth, very blue eyes, and white.
Way, and Father Urban rather hoped they wouldn’t be seeing too much of each other in his absence. When Father Urban arrived back at St Monica’s, as he did about 3:30 P.M. the next day, he saw Monsignor Renton’s black car parked in front of the rectory and hurried inside. Monsignor Renton wasn’t there, though. (“He must be in the church,” said Mrs Burns.) When Monsignor Renton entered the rectory, Father Urban was on the phone. “That was the Chancery,” he said, after hanging up. “I suppose you’ve.