Kind of continuing here with the theme of “expectations” that we bring to books … I’ve blogged recently about a new book I loved by an author I love, a book I didn’t expect to like but liked very much, and now … a book by an author I used to love, which disappointed me every bit as much as I expected it to. This is going to be not so much a review of Angel Fire as a rant about Why I’m So Over Andrew Greeley.
I started reading Greeley’s novels, beginning with Patience of a Saint, back in the late 80s, and for awhile I was a huge fan. His books — racy novels with racy covers, given that the author was a Catholic priest — did a lot for me when I was first exposed to them, particularly in the areas of understanding grace, appreciating the concept of God as a passionate lover, and opening my mind to feminine images of God.
Somewhere along the way, though, I fell out of love with Andrew Greeley. I thought it might be that his writing has actually gone downhill and gotten lazier, but Angel Fire changed my mind. I haven’t read a Greeley novel in years, but I decided to try this since an online book club I usually participate in was reading it. Worth another try, I thought. Angel Fire, which tells the story of Nobel Prize winner Sean Desmond and his encounter with an alien life form who may just be an angel, was written in the late 80’s, the same era as Patience of a Saint. After reading it, I’ve concluded Greeley’s writing didn’t go downhill in the 90’s and 00’s … it was just as bad back in the 80’s. When his ideas were fresh and new, the writing didn’t matter as much to me. But his style is so cliche-driven that for me, prolonged exposure makes it intolerable.