A couple of notes:

Picked up God’s Secretaries at the Harper booth at CBA (yes, yes, I’ll talk about that in a bit). Read it surrounded by the lovely red dirt landscape of south Georgia with the well-memorized landmarks of Tifton, Cordele and Valdosta whizzing by. (And my, don’t they enjoy the Asian massages in south Georgia these days?).

It was an interesting popular history, although not as flawless as the reviews claim. The little secret at the heart of the book is that there are barely any records of the actual work of the Translators in existence. Maybe two or three sources, one rather major (of one section of a previous English translation that seems to have been used by the Translators and annotated by them, revealing their discussions and process). But that’s it. So the bulk of this book is background, context and heady praise for the King James authorized version.

Which is fascinating, of course. However, I would have appreciated a bit more theological and political analysis of the translation itself. The author makes the point that the translation emerged out of compromise between Anglicans and moderate Puritans, reflects a concern with “majesty” as refracted from the heavens through the monarchy, and of course is a product of Reformation thinking and priorities. But there really aren’t enough discussions of specific texts to satisfy the curiosity that his assertions on this point have raised.

The Garden of Martyrs is a rather unusual (for this day and age) and quite involving novel about a murder trial that took place in early 19th century New England. I’ll let the description from the author Michael C. White’s website do the synopsizing work for me:

In this powerful novel based on an actual case, two Irish immigrants are arrested, convicted and executed for the callous murder of a traveler on the Boston Post Road in 1806. Daley, a simple family man with a young son, and Halligan, a man with a checkered past and a lost love, face their deaths bravely with the help of a Catholic priest from France with his own private shame. Victims of anti-immigrant and anti-Catholic prejudice, the tragedy of the Irishmen’s execution is underscored by the fact that modern evidence has exonerated them of the crime.

As the synopsis indicates, one of the central characters is a priest who later became the first bishop of Boston. From an interview with the author, also at the website:

The more I read about Father Jean Louis Anne Madeleine Lefebvre de Cheverus, a long name for a man who was not five feet tall, the more interesting he seemed. . Forced to choose between signing a loyalty oath to the new Jacobin government and going to prison, he chose the latter. Freed from prison through family connections, he went into hiding in Paris. However, many of his cleric colleagues and friends were imprisoned throughout the city. In lay clothes he would go to visit them and offer them spiritual comfort. He was there in the Convent of the Carmes on Sunday, September 2, 1792, when what would later be called the September Massacres broke out. Hundreds of priests were summarily slaughtered that day because they refused to sign the loyalty oath to the new government. Cheverus managed to escape with a handful of other clerics and go into hiding. In disguise he was able to escape to England, and four years later came to the United States. There he helped to found the New England diocese. He stayed in Boston for twenty-seven years, becoming the first bishop and working diligently to help overcome the prejudice and hatred of Catholics, especially Irish-Catholics. Renowned for his eloquence and oratory, his sermons later drew huge crowds in Boston, including many Protestants. Breaking with the tradition that said a Protestant minister would give the condemned man’s funeral sermon, he demanded that he deliver the sermon for Daley and Halligan, which he gave in the very same meetinghouse where Jonathan Edwards had preached his fiery sermons a half century before.

Very strong sense of place, solidly grounded, sympathetic and moving. Good book.