pied with the relations between the leadingnmale and female characters. CardinalnDonahue compiles a whole cataloguenof sexual liaisons, including at leastnthree attempted rapes (one of which isnsuccessful), two homosexual affairs andnone illegitimate child. Father Brennan,nmeanwhile, sticks to the letter of thenlaw. But that does not deter him fromnsempiternal fantasizing about his ownnteen-age sweetheart. At last his celibacynis put to the test when that samenwoman confesses: “The electricity hasnnever gone away,” and volunteers tonshare his bed that night. He declines,nfor “a whole lot of reasons. Mostly becausenI think it would probably destroynthe electricity, and that’s too importantnin my life to give up.” So much for thenvirtue of chastity; for Kevin Brennan,ncelibacy is a route to perverse sensualnpleasure.nAny book about Catholic sexual obsessionsnnaturally touches on the criticalnquestion of birth control. And FathernGreeley’s own thoughts on that subjectnare well-known. Andrew Greeley thenpollster has argued that, since the Pope’snstand on birth control is unpopular,nand since Church attendance has declinednsince the appearance of the encyclicalnHumanae Vitae, therefore thenPope’s stand has driven people out ofnthe Church. (A more perfect example ofnthe post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacynwould be difficult to invent.) In ThenCardinal Sins, Father Brennan refusesnto approve the Pill for his friends’ use.nAs a result, one friend has three childrennbefore her twenty-eighth birth­nS6inChronicles of Culturenday—a fate so horrible Father Brennannpromptly changes his mind on the questionnof birth control.nSimilarly, since Father Greeley hasnwritten a great deal about the politicsnof Vatican City, it comes as no surprisenthat his novel concentrates on the machinationsnof the Roman Curia. Duringnthe conclave leading up to John Paul’snelection, the College of Cardinals (asndepicted by Greeley) is indistinguishablenfrom a smoke-filled room in Mayor Daley’snChicago. This preoccupation withnVatican intrigue extends, ridiculously,nto even the least religious charactersnin the novel. Years after they havenceased to practice their faith, thesencharacters spend their vacations at poolsidendiscussing the latest news from thenCuria and the agenda for the nextnconclave.nA s a novelist Father Greeley suffersnfrom a marked inability to imagine peoplenunlike himself. Thus he cannot understandnthat most Catholics (let alonenmost Americans) have neither interest innnor understanding of the everyday workingsnof the Vatican. He even has troublenremembering that the world is not composednentirely of Irish-American Catholicsnfrom Chicago. Yet at the same timenAndrew Greeley the sociologist hasntrouble recalling the distinctive teachingsnof theCatholicChurch. In his introductorynnote, he explains that “The cardinalnsins result not from fundamental evilnbut from fundamental goodness runningnout of control, from human love that isnconfused and frightened and not trustingnnnenough to love.” As sociology this explanationnmay be adequate; as theologynit is puerile.nWhile his characters are committingnvarious sins against God, Father Greeleynmakes similar offenses against the Englishnlanguage. In the book’s first episodenthe author describes an automobile accidentnby using virtually every availablencliche. Scant pages later, in a conversationnthat takes place while they are washingnthe dishes, a mother offhandedly asksnher teen-age son, “What do you youngnpeople want out of life.”” He replies,ninscrutably, “We all want contradictions.”nBut the book’s most execrablenprose comes after the papal election,nwhen a Jewish psychiatrist (the book’snonly non-Catholic) finally has a chancento deliver a few lines:n’Your goddamn Church,’ he shouted,n’is a virgin and whore. As old as sinnand as young as a flower bud. That’snthe kind of woman I like!’nEllen clung to him. ‘Herbert… whatna terrible, awful, wonderful thing tonsay.’n’At least she’s alive,’ I said.nFrom the available evidence, it seemsnclear that the author views this refinedndialogue as his emotional peak.nThis wretched little novel is really anpolemic in masquerade, yet it fails bothnas novel and as polemic. As fiction it isnstrained and contrived; as essay it isnheavy-handed and smug. Only the mostngullible reader will be persuaded, andnonly the most indulgent will be entertained.nBut Father Greeley has had hisnchance to scoff at his ecclesiastical superiors,nso perhaps for him the novel isna success.nIn a breathless dust-jacket blurb, onenNelson DeMille praises Father Greeley’sncourage and honesty as a novelist, claimingnthat “Three hundred years ago, henwould have been burned at the stake.”nBut who would have burned him: hisnbishop or his editor.’ Really it doesn’tnmatter; those were the good old days. Dn