The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ - Couverture souple

Mary and Joseph
 
This is the story of Jesus and his brother Christ, of how they were born, of how they lived and of how one of them died. The death of the other is not part of the story.
 
As the world knows, their mother was called Mary. She was the daughter of Joachim and Anna, a rich, pious and elderly couple who had never had a child, much as they prayed for one. It was considered shameful that Joachim had never fathered any offspring, and he felt the shame keenly. Anna was just as unhappy. One day she saw a nest of sparrows in a laurel tree, and wept that even the birds and the beasts could produce young, when she could not.
 
Finally, however, possibly because of their fervent prayers, Anna conceived a child, and in due course she gave birth to a girl. Joachim and Anna vowed to dedicate her to the Lord God, so they took her to the temple and offered her to the high priest Zacharias, who kissed her and blessed her and took her into his care.
 
Zacharias nurtured the child like a dove, and she danced for the Lord, and everyone loved her for her grace and simplicity.
 
But she grew as every other girl did, and when she was twelve years old the priests of the temple realised that before long she would begin to bleed every month. That, of course, would pollute the holy place. What could they do? They had taken charge of her; they couldn’t simply throw her out.
 
So Zacharias prayed, and an angel told him what to do. They should find a husband for Mary, but he should be a good deal older, a steady and experienced man. A widower would be ideal. The angel gave precise instructions, and promised a miracle to confirm the choice of the right man.
 
Accordingly, Zacharias called together as many widowers as he could find. Each one was to bring with him a wooden rod. A dozen or more men came in answer, some young, some middle-aged, some old. Among them was a carpenter called Joseph.
 
Consulting his instructions, Zacharias gathered all the rods together and prayed over them before giving them back. The last to receive his rod was Joseph, and as soon as it came into his hand it burst into flower.
 
‘You’re the one!’ said Zacharias. ‘The Lord has commanded that you should marry the girl Mary.’
 
‘But I’m an old man!’ said Joseph. ‘And I have sons older than the girl. I shall be a laughing-stock.’
 
‘Do as you are commanded,’ said Zacharias, ‘or face the anger of the Lord. Remember what happened to Korah.’
 
Korah was a Levite who had challenged the authority of Moses. As a punishment the earth opened under him and swallowed him up, together with all his household.
 
Joseph was afraid, and reluctantly agreed to take the girl in marriage. He took her back to his house.
 
‘You must stay here while I go about my work,’ he told her. ‘I’ll come back to you in good time. The Lord will watch over you.’
 
In Joseph’s household Mary worked so hard and behaved so modestly that no one had a word of criticism for her. She spun wool, she made bread, she drew water from the well, and as she grew and became a young woman there were many who wondered at this strange marriage, and at Joseph’s absence. There were others, too, young men in particular, who would try to speak to her and smile engagingly, but she said little in reply and kept her eyes on the ground. It was easy to see how simple and good she was.
 
And time went past.
From the Hardcover edition.

A supreme storyteller . . . Pullman has done the story a service by reminding us of its extraordinary power to provoke and disturb. (Salley Vickers Telegraph)

Striking and suggestive. (Boyd Tonkin Independent)

Beautifully written, humane, memorable and resonant. (Philip Hensher)

A fierce and beautiful book which . . . will move even those who disagree with it . . . Though he wears his scholarship lightly as befits a master storyteller, there is no doubt in my mind that Pullman has a complete grasp of the intricacies of the quest for the historical Jesus. (Richard Holloway Observer)

Beautifully effective . . . Pullman's retelling of the central story in western civilisation provides a brilliant new interpretation that is also a thought-provoking reflection on the process of how stories come into existence and accrue their meanings. (Nick Rennison Sunday Times)

It is a small gem or, given its explosive story and its exquisite artistry, a hand grenade made by Fabergé. (Brian Appleyard Sunday Times)

The Gospel according to Pullman, precisely because it is so skilfully constructed, will prompt many readers to turn once more to consider whether or not they should accept the apparently bizarre testimony of the early Christian witnesses. (A.N Wilson Literary Review)

Pullman's rebel scripture [is] striking and suggestive . . . Sets a rhetorical feast before critics of ecclesiastical pomp and pride. When this Jesus prays, prior to his betrayal in the garden of Gethsemane, he delivers a Dawkins-esque soliloquy. Not only does the anarchic prophet predict a future priesthood of hypocrites and persecutors who will "torture and kill" heretics and infidels. He even spots child-abuse scandals to come. (Boyd Tonkin Independent)

Provokingly bold (Boyd Tonkin Independent)

Pullman has an extraordinary imagination . . .[and] there are moments of heart-rending personal drama. (Independent on Sunday)

A writer of great skill and feeling. (Adam Gopnik New Yorker)

The charm of this book lies in its seriousness about the story it tells, and about its being a story. (London Review of Books)

Profoundly moving and engrossing. (Good Book Guide)

Told in simple, unadorned prose, The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ provides a brilliant new interpretation that is also a thought-provoking reflection on the process of how stories accrue their meanings. (Nick Rennison Sunday Times)

Pullman nimbly presents this as a contrast between historical veracity and the bon mot that can take root in the popular imagination. He implies that Christ's true achievement was to put a spin on Jesus's story, adding elements of mystery and poetry to an otherwise prosaic tale. (James Urquhart Financial Times)

The most moving section is a marvelous monologue in which Jesus, alone in the Garden of Gethsemane, realises that there is no God, only the wonders of the material world. (Brandon Robshaw Independent on Sunday) --Independent on Sunday