God, “this mortal life also; the bodynthey may kill, God’s truth abidethnstill!” That attitude made the blood ofnChristians seed, in Tertullian’s memorablenmetaphor. “Do not fear thosenwho kill the body, but are unable to killnthe soul,” Christ said; “but rather fearnHim who is able to destroy both soulnand body in hell” (Matthew 10:28).nChristian liberty is more fundamentalnthan either (physical) life or property,nand for the fearless Christian — that is,nthe one who fears Cod so much he hasnno fear left for man — it is somethingnthat cannot be taken away by anynmeans. We need not transform propertyninto the fundamental right in ordernto defend its legitimacy as a right.nE. Calvin Beisner is the author ofnProsperity and Poverty: ThenCompassionate Use of Resources in anWorld of Scarcity (Crossway, 1988).nThe TennDeadly Sinsnby Arthur M. EcksteinnSins for Father Knoxnby ]osef SkvoreckynNew York: W.W. Norton & Co.,n268 pp., $17.95nThis book, originally published innCzech in 1973, is based on annamusing literary conceit. Ronald ArbuthnottnKnox, an English Catholicnpriest and important early 20th-centuryntheologian, was also a distinctive figurenin the development of the genre ofndetective fiction. A pretty fair writer ofndetective stories himself, he also (forninstance) wrote a humorous essay innwhich he portrayed Sherlock Holmes asnan actual historical figure — thereby settingnoff an entire movement of hilariousnpseudoscience that continues to thisnvery day. Further, in 1929 Father Knoxnissued his “Ten Commandments” fornwhat is and is not permissible in andetective story. It is these cominandmentsnthat form the core of Josef Skvorecky’snbook.nThe commandments include suchnrules as: “No more than one secretnroom or passage is allowable in any onenstory” (III); “Nothing is allowable thatnrequires a long scientific explanation atnthe end” (IV); “No Chinaman mustnfigure in the story” (V: this was Knox’snannoyed reaction to one of the mostnhackneyed ploys in cheap detective storiesnof the 20’s); “The detective mustnnot light on any clues which are notninstantly produced for the reader”n(VIII); “Twin brothers, and doublesngenerally, must not appear unless wenhave been duly prepared for them” (X).nKnox’s intent was to improve the writingnof detective fiction. Skvorecky’s intent,nin a series of ten stories, is tonviolate each and every one of Knox’sncommandments, as a form of homage.nAll ten stories center around thenadventures of Eve Adam, a Czechnnightclub singer and amateur sleuth.nThe stories follow her path fromnPrague, through Western Europe, tonthe United States, and then back tonPrague again: all part of her service fornthe Czech State Concert Agency.nThe heart of the book is not, however,nthe chief character herself but thensequence of puzzles that Skvoreckynpresents to us. These are pretty enjoyable:na murder in the Prague filmnindustry, another one along an Italiannhighway, hanky-panky in a Swedishnhotel, a kidnapping in the Departmentnof Mathematics at Berkeley. And inneach story, Skvorecky inserts the delightfullyninfuriating device of a noticenat a certain point informing the readernthat he now has all the informationnnecessary to solve the crime—and alsonto detect what sin against Father Knox’sncommandments Eve has perpetrated. Insolved only one of the ten crimes; andndetermining which commandment hadnbeen broken, while occasionally fairlyneasy, is at other times devilishly difficult,nsince Skvorecky is (of course) a subtlenwriter. Luckily, he includes at the backnof the book the solutions both to thenmysteries themselves and to the writingnsins committed in each story.nOccasionally it seems clear why FathernKnox devised a commandment.nThus the story set in the mathematicsndepartment at Berkeley dissolves into ann(intentionally) stupefying sequence ofnscientific graphs, each with an interminablenexplanation from one of the characters.nAnother story, set on board annocean liner, contains not only a Chinesenmurderer but a Japanese victim,nand gets them both into the plot via anseries of unbelievable historical coinci­nnndences. At other times, however,nSkvorecky proves his mettle by havingnEve arrive at a solution to a mystery in anway which is completely satisfying tonthe reader even though a sin is committednagainst Father Knox.nTranslated from Czech in lively fashionnby K.P. Henley, Sins for FathernKnox is certainly good bedtime readingnfor a couple of nights. But having saidnthis, I must also say that I expectednmore than mildly diverting entertainmentnfrom a writer of the stature ofnJosef Skvorecky. This book hardlynmeasures up to the stories collected innThe Bass Saxophone, let alone to thengreat novel The Engineer of HumannSouls. Of course, one of the benefits ofnhaving settled in the West is thatnSkvorecky no longer has to devote hisnattention continually to important issuesnof political and emotional life; andnone can hardly blame him for wantingnto take a break from his usual themes.nSerious literature is possible in thendetective genre, but for that one shouldnturn to the dark novels of James Ellroy.nArthur M. Eckstein is a professor ofnhistory at the University of Marylandnat College Park.nThe TwonEnHghtenmentsnby Paul GottfriednThe Ancients and the Moderns:nRethinking Modernitynby Stanley RosennNew Haven: Yale University Press;n272 pp., $22.50nStanley Rosen may be every anti-nStraussian’s favorite Straussian.nNever mind that he denies his ownnpaternity and affirms to his friends andncritics: “I am not a Straussian.” Like thenpostmodem anti-Platonists he describesnin his collection of essays, Rosen drawsnheavily on the school of thought henclaims to transcend. One problemnamong the Straussians, which I believencan be traced to Leo Strauss as thenunwitting source, is that they associatenantiquity too closely with present daynAmerican society. Some do it naively;nothers with an eye toward conferring annOCTOBER 1989/41n