The Relic Master
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1517. Dismas is a relic hunter who procures "authentic" religious relics for wealthy and influential clients, and is as honest as any relic dealer can be. When Dismas and his artist friend Dürer conspire to manufacture a shroud to sell to the unsuspecting noble, Dürer's reckless pride exposes Cardinal Albrecht's newly acquired shroud as a fake, the Cardinal puts Dismas and Dürer in the custody of four loutish mercenaries and sends them all to steal Christ's burial cloth-- the Shroud of Chambéry-- Europe's most celebrated relic.
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It took a full quarter of the book before I realized this was written by Christopher Buckley, not Christopher Moore. Moore is known for his genre/historical parodies - including one of my favorite books of all, Fool - while Buckley is better known for his political/modern satire. I count both Christophers among my favorite authors, but in this case the discovery that it was less than Moore caused me some grief.
Buckley can be funny - I'm just not sure why he chose not to be here. It felt like a first draft of a classic Moore, before the dialogue gets punched-up and the plots intricately woven together.
Perhaps it's unfair to compare, but I would in all earnestness urge you to read “Fool” if you're considering this. Then, if you're still looking for more, you can always swing back around to pick this up.
At page 80 and I'm just not interested in what's happening. There's no depth and hardly any description of people or settings; it feels like a sketch instead of an oil painting.
I would love to know what made Christopher Buckley think, “You know what the world needs? A satire about a Christian relic dealer in 1517...” I also wonder what would drive me to grab it (other than that's what I do every time I see his name – since the 80's). But I did, and I gave it the old college try.
The history is pretty good. But I wonder if I'm too critical, I've spent so much time recently listening to lectures, reading about, the religious atmosphere of the time – that might have hurt my appreciation for his take on the period (then again, most of his satire is contemporary and I lived through that without problems). In that light, I should say that I really appreciated his characterization of Johann Tetzel. But I just couldn't care about the characters, the story – any of it. There was none of Buckley's wit, or his voice – nothing that made me a fan of his other work. Honestly, I'm not sure how he could've kept those things with a historical fiction, but the book sure needed that. Yes, it's entirely possible, that if I'd stuck with it a bit longer, I'd have sung a different song, but life's too short and my TBR pile is too high.
So, for the first time since January 2011, I'm abandoning a book. I might come back to it at some point, I'd like to actually read it. But not now.
(not really a review, but I felt like I should say something)
