This is not the first time that I have blogged on Graham
Greene, and it will certainly not be the last time. Greene was not an admirable
man, he was difficult, even unpleasant, constantly cheating on his wife, and
betraying his faith. Yet, he still possessed enormous insight into the subject
of God, man, and love. To understand his power as a writer, it is worth
examining how he tackled a painful, sensitive topic like suicide.
The Heart of the Matter is a dark novel about adultery, obsession,
dishonesty, the loss of trust, pity, responsibility, and the cost of betraying
one’s principles, all set in wartime West Africa. It is ultimately a story
about how Satan is powerless before God’s love.
It does not seem so, when you reach the end of the book. Scobie
- the protagonist - has killed himself, shattering the lives of his wife, and of
his mistress, the death affecting his entire community. Even God, for all his love
and for all his pleading (in an internal dialogue with Scobie), could not
prevent the suicide. Scobie realizes the enormity of what he has done. Once an
upright man, he has committed adultery. He has taken bribes and perverted
justice. He has even been complicit in murder, David-like, to keep his sin
concealed. What pushes him to take his own life is knowing that he has
blasphemed God, and damned his own soul by partaking of communion as a sinner
who refused to seek absolution. As it turns out, the affair wasn’t much of a
secret. Everyone knew.
The novel is realistic in its portrayal of people, place and
events, but the reader catches glimpses of Heaven and Hell. This is more than the
mere struggles of British colonials in West Africa, it is how the oldest
struggle in the world – for the soul of man, for salvation – plays out in the
lives of individuals living in this world. Satan acts but once in the book, and
is very subtle. Scobie takes pity on a young widow, the survivor of a U-boat
attack, and visits her. This is the start of his affair, and what sets the
events in motion. “[S]he raised her mouth and they kissed. What they had both
thought was safety proved to have been the camouflage of an enemy who worked in
terms of friendship, trust, and pity.”
How is it that God has won, and not Satan?
The novel’s central idea, indeed, its title, is that how we
perceive people is not who they really are. After bringing in the survivors of the U-boat attack, the emaciated, the mad, and the dying, Scobie reflects on the contrast between outward calm and inward turmoil.“Outside the rest-house he stopped
again. The lights inside would have given an extraordinary impression of peace
if one hadn't known, just as the stars on this clear night gave also an
impression of remoteness, security, freedom. If one knew, he wondered, the
facts, would one have to feel pity even for the planets? if one reached what
they called the heart of the matter?”
Scobie himself seems to be a lax Catholic, he doesn’t know if he
believes, and his observance is a matter of habit. As the novel progresses, it
is apparent that Scobie is actually scrupulous such a degree that he cannot
bring himself to accept God’s mercy. Scobie comes to see himself as the cross
upon which Jesus is crucified anew. If God and everyone around him suffer
because of their foolish love for him, then he will cease to exist, and his
death and damnation will cure them of their illness once and for all. Suicide
is the Devil’s triumph because it is the ultimate declaration that there is no
hope.
Scobie’s wife discovers through the diary that this was
suicide and not an unintentional overdose. In her anguish and bitterness, she
takes the diary to their priest.
"He was a bad Catholic."
"That's the silliest phrase in common use," Father
Rank said.
“And at the end, this
– horror. He must have known that he was damning himself.”
"Yes, he knew that all right. He never had any trust in
mercy except for other people."
"It's no good even praying . . ."
Father Rank clapped the cover of the diary to and said, furiously,
“For goodness’ sake, Mrs. Scobie, don't imagine you or I know a thing about
God's mercy."
"The Church says . . ."
"I know the Church says. The Church knows all the rules.
But it doesn't know what goes on in a single human heart."
God triumphs because he – and only he – knows the heart of
the matter.
