The Heart of the Matter
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About this ebook
As a renowned cardiovascular surgeon, Dr. Rothmann has the power to do as the woman he still loves with all his heart imploresSave Martys life. But does he have the heart to do it?
John D. Loscher
John “J.D.” Loscher holds a Masters Degree in Public Administration and is a Certified Teacher. He served in the United States Air Force and is a veteran of the 1991 Persian Gulf War. His novels, Three Cheers For Father Donovan, along with the epic two-volume narrative, The Bolsheviks, put him at the forefront as an author of historical fiction. He authored the novels The Heart of the Matter, The Pontchartrain Connection, and The Maltese Messiah. He is the dramatist for a highly successful double trilogy. The first trilogy: Coming Out of the Dark, The Black Madonna, and In the Hands of the Gods. The second trilogy: To Slay a Dragon, The Unholy Family, and The Run for the Roses. Writing under the penname of J.D. Cooper, he wrote the novel Window to the Soul. He is currently hard at work researching and writing his next novel.
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Reviews for The Heart of the Matter
944 ratings39 reviews
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Mad Englishmen in the SunRead by: Michael KitchenLength: 10 hrs and 7 minsThis is the first Grahame Greene novel I’ve read. I finished it a few weeks ago, and though I normally review books fairly soon after reading them, in this case I just didn’t know what to say. There was nothing of particular interest to me, The Heart of the Matter being a straight-out story told in chronological order by a writer adept at his craft. There was of course the plot, which revolves around a love triangle and subsequent guilt, but this subject is not particularly new.The story’s setting is colonial Africa, though the actual country seems to be un-named — as if it were of no importance. Certainly the main characters seemed to think so. It was just Africa to them. A place with “boys” to wait on them, and a heap of moral values, brought with them from their home country to shelter and swelter under.Despite the possibility of reflections on the morality of the existence of colonialism in the mid 20th century, and of the exploitation of those who served their self-appointed masters, the morality that played a part in the story was that of Catholic guilt, preserving marriage at all costs, and the sin of taking communion in a state of sin.I suppose it was because I don’t understand the concept of transubstantiation except at a theoretical level, that I found the underlying point of the novel perplexing.Taken as a simple story of adultery in a loveless marriage at a time when this was condemned by society, it’s an interesting enough read. The story is well written, and my interest was maintained. Will Henry stay with his staid wife Louise, or go off with his mistress who was initially delightful but who is gradually morphing into his wife? Which mistresses tend to do …The Catholic church’s morality lays heavily on Henry, and if I were a page-skipper I would have skipped the pages that dealt with it. But the story written well enough for me to stay tuned. I just had to know then ending.I gave this book a 4. It’s well written and holds interest, and I guess for those with a knowledge of Catholicism beyond Reformation 101, it could represent moral conflict and the contradictions inherent in the absolution of a sin we didn’t ask for.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Scobie is a deputy police commissioner in Sierra Leone. His wife, Louise, is unhappy and as per usual the rumor mill is swirling. The new arrival, Wilson, seems to be interested in his wife and when she decides she wants to go to South Africa, Scobie is willing to do anything to make that happen and make her happy. But the decisions he makes to do that send his life into a tailspin.This is a very introspective story of a man and his choices. It's not a happy story by any means, but manages to investigate difficult subjects of suicide, religion, and happiness. Greene can turn a phrase, describing internal and external action brilliantly at times. The story was easy to read but also demands a lot of its readers.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5One of Greene's "Catholic" books. A little bit of oversimplification goes on here with big issues like suicide and redemption, but it's definitely worth reading. Although if you're unfamiliar with Greene, I'd recommend starting with Our Man in Havana or The Quiet American.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5As good as The Power and the Glory? Nope. As good as The Quiet American? Yeah. I read some other peoples' reviews, and along with the usual 'oh, i didn't like any of the characters' (really? how many people do you like outside of books?) and 'it's just depressing' (yes. If only all books could fill my life with joy and ice-cream sprinkles, I would be so happy), I realized that any fiction written before, say, 1970, can't win. If it's set in the colonies, then it's being imperialistic and anti-feminist. If it's not sent in the colonies, it's ignoring the problems of the third/developing/dependent world. If the protagonist is white, it's racist. If he's a male, it's sexist. And so on. Even if the book in question - like this one, or Heart of Darkness and so on - is explicitly and rigidly anti-colonialist, it's never good enough. Graham Greene, so far as I can tell, is absolutely incapable of writing a book about a woman. So? It's a limitation, but that doesn't mean he's furthering the interests of the patriarchy. Aaaaaaaarghhhhhhhh...
Anyway, you should read this if you have the slightest tinge of idealist in you. If you hate religion, just pretend that Scobie's real problem is that his adultery doesn't mesh with his Marxism, or his capitalism, or whatever ideology you want to throw in there. Point being, unlike a lot of books, you get a picture of someone who chooses his ideology over messy real life, and it's both depressing as hell and crazy inspiring. And for god's sake: fiction is no sociology, nor political theory. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Heart of the Matter is quintessential Graham Greene: life in a colonial backwater bureaucracy, a burnt-out middle aged guy struggling with Catholic guilt, infidelity and distrust. The oppressive African heat and constrained lives of the protagonists is marvelously developed. As the story progresses, the unrelenting malaise leaves them few options that are not typically Greenian. Not his best but among his better works.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Book Circle Reads 35Rating: 4* of fiveThe Book Description: Graham Greene's masterpiece The Heart of the Matter tells the story of a good man enmeshed in love, intrigue, and evil in a West African coastal town. Scobie is bound by strict integrity to his role as assistant police commissioner and by severe responsibility to his wife, Louise, for whom he cares with a fatal pity.When Scobie falls in love with the young widow Helen, he finds vital passion again yielding to pity, integrity giving way to deceit and dishonor—a vortex leading directly to murder. As Scobie's world crumbles, his personal crisis makes for a novel that is suspenseful, fascinating, and, finally, tragic.Originally published in 1948, The Heart of the Matter is the unforgettable portrait of one man, flawed yet heroic, destroyed and redeemed by a terrible conflict of passion and faith.My Review: An excellent book. Simply magnificent writing, as always, but more than that the story is perfectly paced (a thing Greene's stories aren't always) and deeply emotional (another thing Greene's stories aren't always, eg Travels With My Aunt).Greene himself didn't like the book, which was a species of roman à clef. I suspect, though I don't have proof, that he was simply uncomfortable at how much of his inner life he revealed in the book. Scobie's infidelity and his fraught relationship with the wife he's saddled with must have been bad reading for Mrs. Greene. But the essential conflict of the book is man versus church, the giant looming monster of judgment and hatred that is Catholicism. Greene's convert's zeal for the idiotic strictures, rules, and overarching dumb "philosophy" of the religion are tested here, and ultimately upheld, though the price of the struggle and the upholding aren't scanted in the text.Stories require conflicts to make them interesting, and the essential question an author must address is "what's at stake here?" The more intense and vivid the answer to that question is, the more of an impact the story is able to make. Greene was fond of the story he tells here, that of an individual against his individuality. He told and retold the story. The state, the colonial power whose interests Scobie/Greene serves, is revealed in the text to be an uncaring and ungrateful master; the rules of the state are broken with remarkably few qualms when the stakes get high enough. It is the monolith of the oppressive church, admonishing Scobie of his "moral" failings and withholding "absolution of his sins", that he is in full rebellion against...and in the end it is the church that causes all parties the most trouble and pain.Greene remained a believing Catholic. I read this book and was stumped as to why. The vileness of the hierarchy was so clear to me, I couldn't imagine why anyone would read it and not drop christianity on the spot. But no matter one's stance on the religion herein portrayed, there's no denying the power of the tension between authority and self in creating an engaging and passionate story. A must-read.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5A British officer stationed in West Africa is in an unloving marriage, has had his only child die, and is passed over for promotion. What to do, what to do. I know. Have a passionate affair with a nineteen year old that reminds him of his daughter. The primary themes seem to be failure and pity, I don’t understand why this book is as highly regarded as it is; it’s not awful but is far from great. As a forewarning, the racism starts a couple of pages in as well.Quotes:On happiness:“Point me out the happy man and I will point you out either extreme egotism, evil – or else an absolute ignorance.”On love vs. pity:“Did my lies really start, he wondered, when I wrote that letter? Can I really love her more than Louise? Do I, in my heart of hearts, love either of them, or is it only that this automatic pity goes out to any human need – and makes it worse?”And this one:“Why, he wondered, does one ever begin this humiliating process: why does one imagine that one is in love? He had read somewhere that love had been invented in the eleventh century by the troubadours. Why had they not left us with lust? He said with hopeless venom, ‘I love you.’ He thought: it’s a lie, the word means nothing off the printed page. He waited for her laughter.”On marriage:“He never listened while his wife talked. He worked steadily to the even current of sound, but if a note of distress were struck he was aware of it at once. Like a wireless operator with a novel open in front of him, he could disregard every signal except the ship’s symbol and the SOS.”On relationships, an interesting inversion:“There is a Syrian poet who wrote, ‘Of two hearts one is always warm and one is always cold: the cold heart is more precious than diamonds: the warm heart has no value and is thrown away.’”On youth (and age):“He listened with the intense interest one feels in a stranger’s life, the interest the young mistake for love. He felt the security of his age sitting there listening with a glass of gin in his hand and the rain coming down.”
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Not as good as The End of the Affair I don't think, but outstanding even so.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5A boring life of a British diplomat on the West Coast of Africa during WWII. Pure tedium. As was the read. Yet, this was a popular book in England when it came out. I get British humor, but this irony eludes me.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5the most depressing book i have ever read
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5About three weeks ago I picked up ‘The Heart of the Matter’ – Greene’s novel of 1948 set in West Africa during the Second World War.I first read it over 30 years ago, and it has everything I remember – but a lot more.Perhaps because I’ve been working on ‘The Taming of the Shrew’ at the same time – elements of religion, marriage and identity have stood out in focus in a way I don’t remember. The Shrew is a play all about seeking salvation through appropriate partnering – The Heart of the Matter, how salvation is individual and not to be found in others.This was a pretty dismal, depressing read the first time – it touched on the meaning of existence and right way to live – on lovelessness and the unforgivable: What I hadn’t tasted then was the existential angst, the deepness of the despair and the strength of individual choice.Major Scobie, our everyman, is a policeman with a wife – respectability personified. He is hated by the ex-pats because he isn’t corrupt – and loved by the Syrian dealer in corruption for the same reason. His lack of corruption perversely makes him untrustworthy to his own kind – and his career suffers as a consequence. The only true friendship comes from the Syrian, Yusef – very not British – and it is a friendship Scobie can never accept.It is Scobie’s fall from grace we follow – in the true meaning of the words: He is not ruined in any earthly way – but his spiritual existence is, at least in his own mind, spiraling ever further down through the circles of hell.In one of the more frighteningly understandable images of the book, Scobie sees himself as fisting god – not fighting in the abstract, but physically punching and damaging the flesh: It is an image which horrifies in its very physicality – and in the clarity of self-knowledge Scobie exhibits.Around this dying light flutter a whole cast of shadow-dwelling characters.Scobie’s wife is damaged goods – her husband’s incorruptibility has driven her to this god forsaken land so she has plunged into the superficialities of Catholic dogma – the ritual and the literal making her empty life fuller. She reads books and poetry – replacing any real inner life with printed words and borrowed sounds.She is not a fool – but it is her needs that keep what is left of their marriage alive – most of it died with a young daughter back in England. Her leaving to live in South Africa opens the gap needed for a replacement ‘needer’ – and the final human dilemma that shatters Scobie’s relationship with the divine.Wilson, spy-on-his-own-kind, and writer of trash poetry; driving Scobie no more than a mosquito could - tolerated as a fact of the environment – in ‘love’ with Scobie’s wife and emptying the word of all depth.Helen, fallen woman and siren – who is no more than a vessel the fates use to trap Scobie – from her very first appearance as love-less, dried-skin of a girl clutching a stamp-album to near-whore for the ex-pat wild boy.A priest who knows he serves no one well – least of oll Scobie; a priest who needs to confess as much as to listen to confession – but perhaps the only one who sees the real relationship of Scobie to his god – who appreciates the complexities and ultimate unknowability of any meaning in life.These moths flicker in and out of the life that is Scobie – contrasting their weaknesses with the immense strength he is using in his ‘psychomachia’ – his soul-struggle.Scobie is ultimately heroic – in his choice and in facing of the consequences of that choice. He is very much a 20th Century man – having both the consciousness and anxiety William Golding identified as hallmarks in the work of Graham Greene.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/520th century, British, Catholicism, faith, marriage, colonialism, Africa
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5A sad story if ever there was one, but one of the finest ever written about the white men in West Africa.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I've never read anything by Graham Greene before but this book was chosen by the LT 1001 Books Group as the August 2017 read and it seemed like a good place to start. I found the subject matter difficult but Greene's writing is quite wonderful.Henry Scobie is a policeman in a British colony on the west coast of Africa. World War II is on and ships in the Atlantic are regularly sunk. Scobie has been in the colony for fifteen years so he is quite a veteran. He oversees a number of black policeman and takes on difficult cases himself. His wife, Louise, is dissatisfied with life in the colony and when Henry is passed over for the head police job she is very disappointed. She is seen by other ex-pats as rather aloof because she likes literature and poetry. A new man in the colony, Edward Wilson, likes poetry himself and he forms a passion for Louise. Although Wilson is nominally a clerk he actually is a spy for the British government trying to find collaborators with the Germans. He sets his sights on Scobie and soon has evidence of wrongdoing in that Scobie is having an affair with a woman who was shipwrecked and lost her husband. Louise, at this time, was sent to South Africa at her request and at considerable cost. Scobie, with virtually no savings, had to borrow the money from one of the Syrians in town which also brings him under suspicion. Scobie's Catholic faith means he should confess and stay away from his mistress but he cannot bring himself to do so. Then when his wife returns he takes Communion with her which is another sin. Scobie is on the horns of a dilemma and doesn't know how to extricate himself.Greene's description of life in an African colony are based upon his own experiences in Sierra Leone during the war. It sounds dreadful and so when Scobie says that he likes living there I found it hard to believe. I also found it hard to believe that he had such a commitment to his mistress because he seems like a textbook stiff-upper-lip sort of Brit the reader has a hard time believing he has any emotions. But as the saying goes "Still waters run deep" so there are many emotions roiling around under the surface. I felt very sorry for Scobie because he seemed like such a decent person. He really wanted to do what was best for both the women in his life and he wanted to be a good Catholic. There was just no way for him to reconcile his faith with his feelings for his women.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The slow burn corruption of Major Scobie (both criminal and moral), wonderfully written.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Morose and melancholy, an outpost of the mind or perhaps soul in an outpost of the Empire. The clipped and weighted dialogue, like a Golden Age movie script, reeks of some unvoiced emotion - weary despair in this case. A brothel visit is inserted, for example, simply to evoke the "sadness of the after-taste," which moreover "fell upon his spirits beforehand". The heart and the matter of Scobie, the lead character, are implausible (as Orwell's early review noted), and getting real world motives to fit in with the doctrines of religion, as Greene seeks to do, is always a struggle.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5On Jan 28, 1950, I said: "Read The Heart of the Matter today. 'Twas quite a story, mood-inspring, tending to leave a guy with a drained-out weary feeling. But: reflecting on it after finishing it, it was not the type of book which can create in me the kind of feeling it strove to create. I think it underdrawn; it doesn't exhaust its potentially powerful situations and mental states. Where I require, to create a really intense and all-pervading feeling, a type of writing with the sweeping, driving, bludgeoning force of a vibrantly, erratic sledgehammer, Graham Greene uses the incisive, deliberate probings of some sterilized surgical instrument with the net result that the relation of Scobie's mental and spiritual conflict left me with a dry tension with elements of artificialty to it. It is a story of a man torn between right and love versus wrong and love; he loved so thoroughly that even when he saw the evil saturating what resulted from his love, he could not withdraw. I've heard talk of special, not readily apparent meaning in the story and I sought to discover that, but it eluded me, I guess."
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5In the late 1970s, I worked in Freetown for several months. Before I went, a number of people told me to read this book as the best possible introduction to Freetown. Greene wrote this novel in the mid-1940s after assignment as an intelligence officer in Freetown during the early part of World War II. In 1977, many of the background details were still the same, like the menu at the British Club (no longer called that then) and even the waiters seemed to be the ones whom Greene described. Until rereading "The Heart of the Matter," I remembered nothing of the plot but the descriptions of Freetown.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Another depressing but cinematic book, this one set in WW II, coastal Africa, probably Sierra Leone. Our hero Scobie is the anti-hero: perfect bureaucrat, police officer, dutiful husband, honest man, and terminally depressed Catholic. The life of Scobie: heat, tedium, colonial politics and intrigue. He dutifully does his duty until he doesn't, and in the end has an orgy of suicidal ideation, totally dosed up with Catholic nonsense and kills himself. Sad, but ridiculous. Makes you hate the Catholic Church, and feel sorry for people who take it seriously as indeed some people do. If you are depressed and Catholic, this book could send you off. Well written, but oh really, read it only when you are in a relentlessly positive, anti-deep thought frame of mind.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5At first, I enjoyed this book; the writing is graceful, the story engaging, the characters believable. Unfortunately, the further I got into what I first found a relaxing and engaging read, the more I began to feel I was reading a book that, more than anything, was simply working to juxtapose Chopin's The Awakening with The Heart of Darkness and religious overtones....and in a rather melodramatic fashion as I went further and further. It's an interesting read in many ways, and from an obviously talented writer, but I have to admit that I grew bored with it midway through, to the extent that I had a difficult time finishing, and wanted quite a bit more than it offered. I'll try more of Greene's work, but I'm not sure I'd recommend this work to others unless it seemed to somehow directly fit their tastes.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5The Heart Of The Matter served as my introduction to Graham Greene, and I am thrilled to be acquainted with his work. Greene writes about the contradictions of religious faith with great style and insight. To the modern eye, the workings of British colonialism seem quaint and faintly embarrassing, yet it is impossible to remain unmoved by the travails faced by Scobie, the morally conflicted police deputy. A classic, highly recommended.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Scobie is an Assistant Commissioner of police in a British colony in west Africa during WW2. He is in a loveless marriage with Helen. They had a child who died several years before at the age of 12 in boarding school in England. Both Scobie and his wife are devout Catholics and take the issue of sin very strongly. Helen is unhappy with the way she is treated by the colony society and wants to go away for a time to live in South Africa. Scobie takes from a shady Syrian merchant (and possible diamon smuggler) named Yosuf. That act is Scobie's first transgression, from his point of view, even though the money is a loan not a bribe but while Scobie doesn't try to keep it a secret he doesn't report it immediately either. Later he allows a Portugese ships captain to smuggle a letter to the captain's only daughter, even though the letter may have intelligence information in it. While Helen is away Scobie falls in love with a young woman, now a widow, who was one of the survivors of a liner that was attacked by the Germans.Scobie, whom his boss calls Scobie the just, has a personality that feels sorry for those who are unhappy or suffering (``losers'' as he calls them). He stays with his wife because he feels sorry for her. He permits the Portugese captain's letter through because he empathizes with his love for his daughter. He falls in love with the Louise partly because he feels sorrow for her becoming a widow weeks after her marriage, just months out of boarding school.It's Scobie's sense of justice conflicting and his willingness to do harm himself, even to commit illegal acts, to aid other people, to keep them from harm. This leads to consequences, both spiritual and physical, for Scobe and the people around him and inevitably final sacrifice of himself for others happiness.Greene is one of my favorite authors and this book is one of his best. As with most of Greene's books the plot is not as important as the inner struggle the hero goes through. In this book we get to see Scobie's thoughts in great detail. However, as in many of the author's books, the other characters are much less developed. We never understand the motivations of Scobie's wife Helen or his lover Louise or of Yosuf the smuggler he gets entangled with or the accountant/spy Wilson who is in live with Helen. But it is Greene's focus on Scobie's increasing frustration and spiritual torment as he tries to help others and fails until his final solution that makes the book so interesting.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I was somewhat surprised that I thought Graham Greene's novel "The Heart of the Matter" was a decent read. I've read some of Greene's nonfiction work and couldn't abide this attitude toward native people. Knowing this book was set in Africa, I had misgivings about it to start, but I found the story to be interesting and flowed well.The story focuses on Scobie, a police investigator who is mostly looking for smuggled diamonds. There are plenty of not-so-secret secrets floating around and a good helping of Catholic guilt to move the story along.The characters were interesting, even though they were mostly unlikeable people. I'm not sure this is really a must-read book, but it was pretty enjoyable.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Another good but almost great novel from Mr. Geene. About a police officer in a West African country, probably Sierra Leone, and his struggles with adultery and suicide.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I picked this up because I hadn't yet read it, and fancied reading something set in Sierra Leone prior to a trip there in May 2011. However, as Orwell said, the whole thing might as well be happening in a London suburb. Well, nearly. The rats are as big as rabbits and vultures hop about, the Bedford Hotel was still standing (real name - the City Hotel, and sadly this post-colonial building was pulled down in 2010), corruption and lies are everywhere, and there are small boys as servants, mammies, a naked-breasted girl walking down the road, a shady brothel, jiggers and the rainy season. The Brits complain about the weather before and during the rains - though there's no insight into the locals' feelings on the matter.As for the book itself and its plot, I found it touching, but Scobie was just that bit too elusive for me and I couldn't pin down his motivations. He was damned aggravating though. The death of poor Ali was a real shock and Yusef a fascinating character, but in a way I felt Louise, Scobie's wife, was dealt with rather brutally by Greene following that - although there, I didn't live in those times.Some of Scobie's thoughts and observations I really did enjoy - finding God too accessible "Looking up at the cross he thought, He even suffers in public". It was at this point, in Book 2, Part 2, where for me the characters, especially Scobie, really started to take flight. His awful patronising view of Helen: "how could anyone lay the responsibility for any action, he thought, on this stupid bewildered child?", and the apparent need she had of him because "the beautiful and the graceful and the intelligent could find their own way" - a need he wasn't up to fulfilling - were really vivid, and chimed brilliantly with everyone else's view of Scobie who couldn't keep a secret to save his life.I also enjoyed poor Harris, old Downham schoolfellow of Wilson's. As he reflects on his school years and begins to relive how miserable he was there, "He felt the loyalty we feel to unhappiness - the sense that that is where we really belong" - made me smile at us humans, especially at the young English schooled humans!But it was agonising watching Scobie fail to sort out his affairs, struggling and confusing Helen as to whether to call it a day or not: "Virtue, the good life, tempted him in the dark like a sin", and the wonderful logic which means he can't 'abandon' her for goodness, for God: "Would a woman accept the love for which a child had to be sacrificed?" Depends what, or how long-lasting, sacrifice - the melodramatic ol' damnation-believing bugger doesn't ask himself! Great stuff! Especially as the pendulum swings and a few hours later a few aspirin are what he needs for his banal predicament.And then the sad, inevitable crumbling of the affair: the confessional advice to stay away, which means leaving behind "that moment of peace and darkness and tenderness and pity 'adultery'". It's this that does make me wonder why I haven't read more Greene, or have hurried it. I bought a biography of Greene at the same time as buying "The Heart of the Matter", which I will plunge into later this year.Next though,: an Osprey about The SAS and Operation Barras 2000 ,Raid No. 10 by Will Fowler, and Mariusz Kozik about the successful rescue of 11 British soldiers.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This book is great from the core and up. The structure is marvellous, the writing is, stylistically, by a master, and I didn't want to miss a paragraph. It's a horrid tale of rôles, love, hierarchies (including God), friendship and treachery. I loved it.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This is a heartbreaker of a novel. Scobie, and man of duty if there ever was one, falls in love while his wife is away. He is torn by guilt; the guilt of being a poor husband, and knowing he cannot do better, the guilt of finding love, the guilt of standing "poor in spirit" before God. One can only hope there is redemption for him. It is only sad until the last few pages, where it turns tragic.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Quite an interesting read, though not Greene's best. The central character as so often is a Catholic struggling with his conscience, obligations towards his fellow man and woman and the strict standards of his religion. The novel also reminded me a bit of Orwell's Burmese Days, though there is no real focus here in Greene's novel on the political backdrop to colonialism. The novel also takes place during the Second World War, though this hardly impinges on the plot.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Henry Scobie is a British policeman, working in an unnamed country in Africa. He is honest, straightforward and honorable. But life changes when Scobie finds that he no longer can follow his own moral code trying to carry out his responsibility to his wife as he falls in love with a young shipwrecked woman Helen, and he is still trying to give his obedience to his Catholic God. This was an excellent story of internal conflict and the emotions of someone who is committing a sin, but really feels there are no alternatives. Many of Graham Greene’s novels have a common theme of Catholicism in them. Although, this is something I am not personally familiar with, I love the way he describes the feeling of guilt and obligation when human desires come in direct conflict with the demands of the church. Another excellent story.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Not a review, just some random thoughts upon completing this novel. Scobie is such a tragic figure! And I can't help wondering how autobiographic his struggles with love & religion were since both Scobie & Greene converted to Catholicism. The broken rosary Scobie kept meaning to have repaired is a symbol that sticks in my mind... Another thing that struck me was the encapsulated in the phrase:" - that no human being can really understand another, and no one can arrange another's happiness."Despite the religious aspects running through this book, it seemed almost existentialist in tone.
Book preview
The Heart of the Matter - John D. Loscher
AuthorHouse™ LLC
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© 2014 John D. Loscher. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
Published by AuthorHouse 07/24/2014
ISBN: 978-1-4969-1832-1 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-4969-1831-4 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-4969-1833-8 (e)
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Contents
Prelude: The Bleeding Hearts Club
Steel Bars Are Wrapped Around This Heart of Mine
Book I: Please Listen To Your Heart
A Heartbreaker, Dream Maker, and Love Taker
Taking Another Little Piece of My Heart
The Heart Says: All I Wanna Do Is Make Love To You
Why Is It That You Can Lead a Heart to Love… But You Can’t Make It Fall?
Book II: To Break These Chains Around My Heart
Because the Heart Never Forgets
When Your Heart’s On Fire
Playin’ With the Queen of Hearts
Epilogue: My Heart Will Go On
In the Heart of the Night
Afterward
For the countless multitude of forgotten young faces who are condemned to be shunned and belittled as they struggle to please those whose only care in the world revolves solely around themselves…
The following story is just that: A story and nothing more. Yes, it is true that some of the finest theme parks in the world are located at Orlando, Florida. Yet the characters and situations depicted throughout this novel exist only in the author’s imagination.
Prelude:
The Bleeding Hearts Club
Steel Bars Are Wrapped Around This Heart of Mine
Even to the casual onlooker it was clearly evident the girl striding down the narrow corridor, raven black hair flying with each step she took, was troubled. There was a look of unmitigated concern in her large, brown eyes that desperately shouted, "All hell is about to break loose!" The enormous frown dominating the girl’s facial features? That was the byproduct of gritting her teeth tightly together—as if to ward off horrible pain. All combined, this completed the image of impending doom.
Yet her downcast expression WAS most appropriate considering the current situation.
Anyone familiar with the swarthy-skinned girl’s station as a teacher’s aide at Chicago’s renowned Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine and Science knew there was ample cause for worry. Beahauto Hussani was a first-year medical student. Like any first-year med student, Miss Hussani was part and parcel to every shit job imaginable. Only this time she was convinced that the powers that be within the university’s medical school had purposely seen to it that she was rewarded the ultimate cesspool of an assignment: she served as the student aide to Doctor Jacob Rothmann, M.D. As one of the university’s tenured Professor of Anatomy and Physiology, Dr. Rothmann was the type of professor that students only half-jokingly referred to as, "…one of the untouchables." That meant simply this: withstanding indulging in an illicit affair with one of his one students or showing up to teach class in the nude, Dr. Rothmann’s position as a college professor was secure. He could do as he pleased—short of taking one of his pupils to his bed or partaking in some other type of scandalous behavior!
Today, Beahauto Hussani realized that the wonderful job security Dr. Rothmann now enjoyed conspired to put her on the short end of humanity’s pecking order.
But that doesn’t mean he has to be such a prick! Miss Hussani reminded herself.
He’s not going to treat me like shit, again
Beahauto whispered in an attempt to bolster her resolve. I won’t let him do it. Not this time. Granted, I may only be a first-year med student but goddammit I’m a human being. I’ve got a right to be treated with some dignity…even if that cocksuckin’ bastard thinks otherwise!
Those were brave words. Yet that was all they were…words. No sooner had she finished taking this firm, ideological stand than Miss Hussani’s common sense assaulted her. As a result, her resolve wavered. She recognized how her earlier diatribe would prove to be an overly frank speech for a fourth-year medical student. For any medical student to speak one’s mind using such terminology to a tenured professor was tantamount to drafting a student’s order for expulsion. That was an outcome Beahauto knew she must avoid at all costs. The resulting consequence? Her student visa being revoked. She knew Dr. Rothmann would see to that personally. He would then make sure that her Islamic ass would be promptly put on the first airplane departing O’Hare Airport for her native Pakistan. Once home in Islamabad, Beahauto could then look forward to a lifetime of forced insignificance—her face forever hidden from the rest of the world behind the Islamic woman’s subservient black veil.
That’s not the life you want, Beahauto!
Upon contemplating the realities of her situation, Miss Hussani’s bold defiance dissolved, evaporating with the swiftness of morning dew in summertime. Beahauto knew her acquiescence was as predictable as it was heartbreaking. Her hopes, her dreams, her very survival demanded that she pick and choose her battles carefully. Standing up to her boss, a tenured professor at a medical university was a foolish act. She was not an American. She was a Pakistani. Her nation was on the opposite side of the globe.
If only this medical school lived up to its vision!
When Beahauto applied for admission, she had done so because she was convinced her origins and religion would be overlooked by all. The school’s own web site boasted the Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine and Science strived to be a premier, interprofessional health sciences university by advocating academic excellence, furthering innovative research, serving with integrity, and respecting diversity. While these noble ideals were well intended, the reality was far different. Thanks to the September 11, 2001, attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon by Muslim terrorists, Beahauto discovered that she was residing in an America that was icy at best and hostile at worst when it came to welcoming Islamic students such as herself.
But then, of course, there’s the assholes like Dr. Rothmann!
Beahauto knew that the deep-seated contempt she felt for her boss was the byproduct of her upbringing. After all, there are just some people in this world that, if brought together in the same room, are destined to have problems: Pilgrims and Indians…Republicans and Democrats…the French and every other inhabitant of the European continent! Knowing that beforehand convinced Beahauto that the ingrained hatred eternally existing between Jews and Muslims put them at the very top of that list. As she found herself arriving at her prescribed destination, Beahauto steeled herself with the raw courage and self-control she knew it would take to control both her temper and her tongue. With the door to Professor Rothmann’s office open, Beahauto paused to spy on the occupant. Clinging to his mode of dress, Beahauto could see that Dr. Rothmann was wearing another of his well-worn, blue pinstripe suits. The professor’s once white shirt, now a weak shade of tan, was the result of numerous coffee spills. His only adornment of color was the crimson tie with blue dots he wore loosely around his neck. An equally well-worn lab coat, whose lapels were also dyed via coffee spills, completed his apparel. Add in his somber pair of black, wingtip shoes and Dr. Jacob Rothmann, M.D., Professor of Anatomy and Physiology at Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine and Science, gave the appearance of a throwback to the yuppie decade of the 1980’s. Only his bushy, brown beard of upper chest length highlighted with numerous strands of gray hairs gave any clue that, within the chest of Dr. Rothmann, beat the heart of wannabe Hell’s Angels biker…which Beahauto knew represented her boss’ true persona now. As was his practice whenever she had to report to her boss, Dr. Rothmann gave the appearance of being lost in thought. His head hung down, studiously buried in a pile of papers lying atop his cluttered desk. Beahauto knew this current display was all for show. She could always count on the professor’s outward display of a scholarly persona anytime she was required to report to her boss. In spite of her tasking—and in spite of the open office door—Beahauto complied with the prescribed protocol. Forming a fist with her right hand, Miss Hussani remained silent and knocked three times on the metal doorframe in order to announce her presence.
The single occupant of the office did not even bother to raise his eyes. His concentration remained riveted to the papers he was supposedly reading. That was probably for the best. If he had raised his head, the Pakistani woman would have noticed a pair of hate-filled, bloodshot eyes.
"Well?" came a none-too-friendly voice.
She’s still out in the waiting room, Professor,
Miss Hussani reported.
The seated figure seated behind the enormous, highly polished, cherry-stained, pine desk flung the stack of papers he had been reading down on his desktop in frustration.
"God dammit!" he swore in disgust.
And she says she’s not leaving until you agree to see her,
the student aide added for good measure.
In response to this tidbit of information, Dr. Rothmann hurled his ballpoint pen against the far wall of his office. The cheap, spring-loaded ballpoint struck the wall with an audible smack! The sound startled Miss Hussani, causing her to jump. Upon striking the wall of his office, Dr. Rothmann’s missile bounced off the beige-colored gypsum board and ricocheted to the left, passing dangerously close to Beahauto’s cheek. Instinctively, the Pakistani medical student covered her head with her hands as she recoiled to protect herself from the errant projectile.
"Shit!" Dr. Rothmann cursed again, unconcerned that his name would have been prominently listed as DEFENDANT in a personal injury lawsuit had his flying ballpoint pen accidentally struck his student aide. But hey, isn’t that why insurance was invented?
You know what, Miss Hussani?
Dr. Rothmann thundered at his student aide. "You and the fuckin’ Hindus deserve each other!"
I’m terribly sorry, sir,
Beahauto all but wept.
The sight of Beahauto struggling to suppress her tears deeply touched Dr. Rothmann’s heart. Though he was no longer a devote practitioner of the Hebrew faith, Dr. Rothmann was nonetheless proud of his heritage. As such, there could be no sight in the world more pleasing than the image of a Muslim weeping in humiliation before a Jew! A golden moment such as this came rarely. That meant some additional libations were definitely in order…and Dr. Rothmann had already formulated a most appropriate, nay, the perfect condemnation for Miss Hussani’s degenerate race:
"Both of you pagans are really good when it comes to terrorizing the world by splitting the atom, but you can’t do anything simple…like obeying your supervisor’s request that you show an uninsured, white-trash, parasite-of-a-slut the door and tell her that neither she nor her bastard children need never bother to come back!"
You know, for someone who denies knowing anything about this woman, you sure seem to know a lot about her! Beahauto wanted to say. However, not knowing how to proceed, the girl’s confusion overwhelmed her self-control. She started to weep.
[GOOD!!!]
"But she says she knows you!" the Pakistani girl blubbered sorrowfully. Treating people like the dirt upon which one walks simply because they were poor was abhorrent to Beahauto. From her childhood she remembered well the overall level of poverty her people were forced to endure—all for the sake of thwarting India’s insatiable expansionist ambitions to forcibly annex as much of Pakistan’s territory as possible.
I know a lot of people, Miss Hussani,
the heart-surgeon-turned-professor poignantly reminded his pupil. Including the mayor of Chicago! That’s one of the benefits of being a cardiac surgeon. I become everybody’s new best friend from the moment their shitty-ass ticker starts palpitating!
Doctor, couldn’t you just agree to see her?
ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!
You say you want to get rid of her…Fine! Then speak to her.
Miss Hussani, as a first year med student, I would think that even you know the danger that comes when opening up an old wound.
Doctor Rothmann—
There are scars here, Miss Hussani, and the lesions run deep.
If I may be so bold—
I don’t wanna hear it!
"Your people wandered in the Sinai for forty years before Moses led them into the land of Canaan," Beahauto continued, refusing to comply with the wishes of her boss. Having come this far, she intended to speak her piece in its entirety before accepting her punishment:
"And you’ve been wandering ever since! You wandered after the Assyrians destroyed the Northern Kingdom. You wandered after the Babylonians destroyed the Southern Kingdom. You wandered after the Persians allowed you to return. You wandered the globe for some two thousand years after the Romans laid waste to the Kingdom of Israel. And TODAY, even after the creation of Israel, you Jews are as clueless as ever…You’re still wandering around lost in spite of having your own homeland!"
Get to the point, Miss Hussani,
her professor commanded.
My point is this, Doctor Rothmann…
Beahauto’s right hand shot forward. She pointed an accusatory index finger squarely at the chest of her professor as she angrily presented her conclusion:
"…For God’s sakes…STOP YOUR WANDERING!!!"
The silence was deafening. Beahauto stood there dumbfounded. She was expecting another profane outburst from Dr. Rothmann as the reward for her parable. Instead, her cantankerous boss simply sat behind his desk, glaring at her with a silence that Beahauto could only have described as thunderous.
Well, at least this time he’s not asking me to recite the name of the pimp who raped the whore who gave birth to me! Beahauto reminded herself.
With her confidence bolstered by what she considered a definite display of improved behavior from her boss, Beahauto redoubled her efforts on the stranger’s behalf:
Doctor Rothmann, all she is asking for is a moment of your time,
Beahauto pleaded. Why don’t you just agree to meet with her? If you are as desirous for her to leave as you say you are, then give her what she wants and send her on her way!
I can also call security and have her charged with trespassing!
Dr. Rothmann pointed out to his student aide.
The only problem with that, sir, is that she can come back after posting bail.
Which she will.
Dr. Rothmann leaned back in his expensive, wingback chair. To the casual onlooker he gave the impression of a man weighing his options…which he wasn’t. He’d already made up his mind on how he was going to deal with this intruder. However, Miss Hussani need not know that. Dr. Rothman had to admit that he immensely liked how this chair allowed him to lean back thoughtfully whenever the mood suited him. The tactic afforded him a psychological edge over subordinates while catering to his creature comforts at the same time. In addition to being functional as well as comfortable, the chair’s black-leather upholstery was identical in both color and texture to his favorite biker outfit…the one he wore joy-riding on his beloved Harley-Davidson down Chicago’s famed Lake Shore Drive for all to see.
All right, Miss Hussani, I’ll see her,
Dr. Rothmann relented.
"Oh, yes sir!" Beahauto bellowed before disappearing, all too eager to present good news to the tolerant, yet determined, visitor waiting patiently to speak with the college professor.
Dr. Rothmann righted his chair the moment Miss Hussani vanished from his field of vision. A smile crept across the physician’s face. Agreeing to finally see this worthless, white-trash bitch would prove doubly useful. It would make his Muslim student aide happy. Happy employees are far less likely to lodge a complaint about unprofessional conduct
than disgruntled ones. Secondly, it would grant him revenge; and vengeance upon this slutty, little cunt was the one item he craved so desperately…
The sight of Miss Hussani leading the female visitor into his office was an almost surreal event. The visitor’s hair was only shoulder length now—far shorter than he remembered. The woman’s wavy, chestnut-colored hair that automatically came to mind whenever he masturbated was now a lighter, two-toned shade…the obvious consequence of a cheap, over-the-counter bleaching kit she probably purchased at a local Wal-Mart. As Miss Hussani showed the newcomer
to a seat strategically located in front of Dr. Rothmann’s desk, the physician could not help but notice how the lithe, young woman with the shapely, hourglass figure from his youth was long gone. Oh yes, she was still as graceful as ever. There was no denying that. But the girl he envisioned remained as fleeting as the decade in which they had shed their innocence. Yet in spite of his desire to reminisce fondly about those days long gone, Dr. Rothmann took refuge from his memories by dwelling on the present: he observed how any woman can destroy her figure when she packs on what he estimated to be some fifteen to twenty pounds to her waist and thighs! In spite of her robust physique, the one thing about this visitor that truly did surprise Dr. Rothmann was that she—like him—now wore the object of his utmost scorn…eyeglasses! To see her as she was now caused the physician to contemplate the possibilities for her ungainly appearance. True to form, not one of the possibilities that came to mind were especially flattering:
What the hell happened? Dr. Rothman doggedly continued to speculate while staring hard at the woman the Muslim student aide led into his office. Bitch, did you O.D. on curly fries or somethin’’?
I appreciate everything you’ve done in seeing to the needs of our guest, Miss Hussani,
Dr. Rothmann lied to his student aide once the woman was seated.
Thank you, doctor,
Beahauto replied, knowing she had just been lied to by her professor. I’ll wait outside to escort our guest off campus.
That won’t be necessary,
the woman informed both the physician and the Pakistani medical student. I appreciate the thought, but I’ll be able to find my own way out when we’re done.
Don’t be so sure, ma’am! Beahauto wanted to say as she closed the door to her professor’s office. On more than one occasion she had gotten lost navigating the corridors of Rosalind Franklin University. Both times that had happened to Beahauto she had been having a good day. For anyone to locate the correct exit at this maze-like, medical school when upset emotionally? That would certainly prove most daunting and Beahauto knew it.
CLUMP!!!
The sound of the door shutting roused the physician and his guest from whatever daydream they might have been experiencing. Both knew it was time to get down to the business at hand.
But which one of us will make the first move? Dr. Rothmann asked himself. Fortunately, this proved to be a question he need not ponder for long.
So, we meet again,
the stout, bleach-blonde woman began in a professional tone while staring hard at the individual seated behind the desk in his black-leather wingback chair. Not wanting to look her opponent in the eye, the woman stared hard at the plastic identification badge which dangled from a ribbon-like topaz cloth necklace suspended around the man’s neck. She marveled at how the