Every institution has a strong tendency to protect itself, even at all costs, and that is certainly the case for a primal institute such as the CatholEvery institution has a strong tendency to protect itself, even at all costs, and that is certainly the case for a primal institute such as the Catholic Church that can boast an (apparent) continuity of almost 2,000 years. I have the impression that this gigantic institute still hasn’t understood the consequences of the child abuse scandal to its moral authority. And also how much this abuse is the result of structural causes, such as the celibacy and a hierarchical organisation that is exclusively governed by (old) men. The top of the Vatican gives the impression that it takes the crisis seriously, gives apologies and expresses solidarity with the victims. But real sanctions against the perpetrators of child abuse have hardly been taken, and an in-depth self-analysis hasn’t been made.
In 'Het hout'/’The Wood’ the renowned Dutch author Jeroen Brouwers puts the abuse in the spotlight once again with the use of all his impressive literary skills. He sketches the horrifying conditions in a Franciscan monastery annex school, in the 1950s in the southeast of the Netherlands. And he does so in his inimitable bombastic style. Through the eyes of a young Franciscan brother, we are presented with a succession of abuse scenes that are absolutely stifling and oppressive. The abuse is accompanied by and related to a direct terror regime under the brethren themselves and a culture of internal denouncing and external covering up. Brouwers lets loose all his devils (pun intended) and puts up a merciless and savage image of the oppressive atmosphere in the monastery (especially the schoolmaster Mansuetus, 'the boar', is one of the most vicious characters in Dutch literature). And as a reader you almost constantly have to swallow, digesting the graphic scenes.
Exaggeration and enlargement are exemplary literary formats, and - in this case - also a justified expression of indignation. But it is my impression that Brouwer's raunchy and unrelenting bombardment detracts from the vicious subtlety that accompanied the abuse in reality, at least in most cases. When you read the official reports about the real scandals, it’s clear that in fact it is the villain subtlety - both in its implementation and in its covering up - which was so characteristic for the practices within the church, a form of abuse of power with velvet gloves. That fact does not diminish the traumatic contenance of the crimes, but it explains better why the victims, the people around them, and the society in general have been silent about these practices for decades. And also why it is not only a phenomenon in churches, but also in sports, youth movements, schools, the music- and film industry and so on.
This villain subtlety is completely lost in the ink-black and raunchy literary violence of Brouwers, and that is regrettable, because it diminishes the veracity of the story. Also the love story with which he offers the young Franciscan story teller a way out, is rather incredible, and weakens the strength of the book. As a matter of fact, as in my previous Brouwers’ reviews, I must once again point to the disturbing image Brouwers seems to have of women: in this case he presents the classical image of the staunch seductress, and with that he - unwillingly - confirms the traditional religious image of women as instruments of the devil. Jeroen Brouwers is the author of one of the most beautiful books in the Dutch language area, De Zondvloed(‘The Deluge’), and this book 'The Wood' certainly contains many stylistic highlights, but unfortunately he has never been able to equal the level of his earlier stories....more