Gospel.

GOSPEL

Wilton Barnhardt 

St. Martin's Press, $24.95,772 pp.

This curious, overstuffed novel/travelogue/polemic purports to be a search for a lost gospel, that of Matthias, the disciple chosen to replace Judas. The property of Hebrew University in Jerusalem, the gospel has been stolen and no one is able either to find it or to translate it, should it turn up. (The reader, however, is privy to the gospel's content, as sections of it are inserted between the various parts of the book, complete with scholarly apparatus, so one knows it is an anti-gospel, especially critical of all the rest of the Twelve and dubious about the Resurrection.)

Enter Lucy Danton, a graduate student from the University of Chicago, and Dr. Patrick O' Hanrahan, ex-Jesuit and professor emeritus of theology at the same university. O'Hanrahan, a noted grouch and drunkard, wants no part of Lucy when she appears, sent by his department to find out what the noted doctor is doing and why he is spending so much of its money. Lucy, however, is the dogged type and O'Hanrahan cannot shake her. From Oxford to Dublin to Florence to Rome to Athens, Jerusalem, and Cairo, Lucy is on his case. Grudgingly, he gives in and makes her his assistant.

Others, too, are on the trail of the gospel. Rabbi Mordechai Hersch, O'Hanrahan's old pal, is trying to recover the scroll for Hebrew University; O'Hanrahan's former assistant (and Lucy's former boyfriend), Gabriel O'Donoghue, is after it for the Franciscans; a mad monk appears, as do a couple of sinister Jesuits; and then there are the born-again Pentecostals from Louisiana, and the CIA.

Unfortunately, none of this adds up to an enormously exciting tale. Although a few narrow escapes take place (Lucy's kidnapping by the Jesuits, for example), they are handled in such a leisurely fashion that one hardly realizes anything has happened. O'Hanrahan doesn't even miss the poor girl before she's returned.

What distinguishes the story is the amount of chatter that goes on. The talk is constant and much of it resembles a lecture rather than conversation. The author has missed no opportunity to air his views at length--his criticisms of the church, of politics, of fundamentalists, of whatever he dislikes most. O'Hanrahan, acting as the author's amanuensis, presents these ideas as shockers for Lucy, who responds satisfactorily, at least at first. Some of O'Hanrahan's nonsense is funny, much of it is sophomoric, all of it goes on and on, accompanied by minutely described meals and heavy drinking.

Goaded by O'Hanrahan, Lucy has begun to lose her innocence and take on worldly airs and attitudes. In Athens, she discovers sex with a Greek Adonis who leaves her pregnant and faced with a serious dilemma: should she have the child and give up her plans for the good life, or should she abort it and follow her star?

In Louisiana, where they have been delivered by the CIA into the clutches of the Pentecostals, O'Hanrahan collapses with hepatitis and a damaged liver. He tries to persuade Lucy to take over the translation of the gospel now that it is finally within their grasp. Lucy, of course, is no longer available, though she keeps this a secret. And O'Hanrahan, although expecting death momentarily, will live to work on the gospel.

The trials and tribulations of this duo have been carefully monitored by the Lord throughout their adventures. Parenthetical interpolations appear frequently, often sounding more like O'Hanrahan than the Lord God--compassion, admonition, argumentation break up the paragraphs and provide glimpses into the future. It's a device that is more irritating than effective.

In O'Hanrahan and Lucy (and to a lesser degree Rabbi Hersch), Barnhardt has two interesting characters and he has developed them artfully. O'Hanrahan, in particular, moves from a tiresome old man, addicted to alcohol and to scatological stories, to a remorseful penitent, full of regrets for a wasted life. One cannot help but be touched by his ruminations on the mistakes he has made and the life he could have led. Lucy, too, grows and changes in the course of the book. In her case the change is somewhat abrupt-- from nail to woman of the world almost overnight. In spite of this hasty development, she is a sympathetic character, open and strong-minded without abrasiveness.

These two are the linchpins of the book. They hold it together amidst a host of minor characters and irrelevant information. It is clear that Barnhardt is up on his biblical studies, as is evident from the heavily footnoted gospel, but the constantly burgeoning flow of stories, discussions, and legends does nothing but slow down the movement of the novel. Had the author exercised some restraint this could have been a good book. As it is, it's only too easy to put it down.