“You got a hard time with that,” Krieg continued, “you just go in one of those religious bookstores. The kind that sells devotional stuff, books about the saints and the like. You’re gonna see a store that don’t sell many books. And you’re gonna be lookin’ at writers who don’t make much money.
“P.G. books are religious enough with priests and nuns and monks and rabbis and bishops and here and there a pope. We simply ask people who write for us to. . add a little somethin’. Somethin’ that’ll spice it up, attract readers. If that turns out to be a certain measure of sex or violence, well, so be it. Holy pizzazz! It’s for the Lord. Praise God!”
This time, it was an unanswered doxology. Koesler wondered if Krieg had lost the crowd.
The evangelist may have harbored the same doubt, for he quickly added, “But I sense I have not been as clear as I might have been. When I say religion is dull and that it needs punchin’ up, I’m talkin’ ’bout the public at large. The souls we want to touch. Dear Lord, I’m not talkin’ ’bout us. Why, I would not for a moment insult you by sayin’ religion is dull for you or me. We don’t have that problem. They do.
“Now, there’s a place for the pious, devotional book-religion without a single frill. But that place is on a dusty shelf, where it’s gonna sit from now until the comin’ of the Kingdom.
“You can write a book that’s gonna sell and reach all those souls who don’t even know they’re hungry. You can do that if you’re willin’ to follow the steps I’m gonna give you during this week. Steps that will help you sow the good word in an attractive package. Your book will feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, accomplish all this good whilst you earn yourself a pretty penny. And all for the Lord. Praise God!”
“Praise God!” the audience responded more confidently.
I’ll be darned, thought Koesler, he got them back.
The dark-haired woman stood.
Troublemaking broad, thought Krieg.
“How about the other panelists?” she asked. “Their books are not gathering dust on a shelf.” Her gaze turned to the others. “Maybe one of you would speak to this question. What about it? Is religion dull? Do you have to drag in sex and violence to sell books with a religious setting?”
Krieg shrugged, and with an alert and defiant look, took his seat.
Koesler studied the others on the panel. Benbow and Marie stared at the tabletop as if they were children hoping the teacher would not call on them. Augustine studied the ceiling as if seriously weighing Krieg’s hypothesis. Winer seemed to be trying to restrain anger. Finally it was the rabbi who literally rose to the challenge.
“If my colleagues have no objection,” Winer opened, glancing at the other writers on the dais, “I should like to comment on a couple of issues raised by Mr. Krieg.”
Winer’s dismissal of Krieg’s title “Reverend” was noted by everyone. The other writers smiled at Winer. Did their smiles indicate permission for Winer to speak for them, or did they constitute silent agreement that Krieg warranted no religious title? Koesler didn’t know, but it was interesting to speculate.
“My first comment,” Winer proceeded, “is addressed to the presence of sex and violence in literature, specifically in books of a religious nature. Unfortunately, I have not yet read all the books written by all of my colleagues. Yet, having met them and in a short span of time gotten to know them surprisingly well, I feel it may be safe to speak in their behalf.
“All of us-Sister Marie, Father Augustine, Father Benbow, and myself-are writing in the mystery or detective fiction genre. To begin with, the fiction is also popularly known as ‘murder’ mystery stories. It may or may not come as a surprise to you that there exist rules and regulations for murder mysteries. One of these rules is that there must be at least one murder in each murder mystery. That having been said, I feel it safe to suggest that I cannot think of any murder that does not have an element of violence to it.”
There were a few chuckles from the audience and smiles everywhere, save on Krieg’s face.
“Thus,” Winer continued, “it is not a question, I think, whether or not violence is compatible with religion. Good God, look at the Bible! It gets under way with fratricide-Cain killing Abel. And, in your so-called “New” Testament, it culminates with a most brutal death-the crucifixion of Jesus.
“What I propose is the consideration not of the presence or absence of violence as such, but rather whether the subject of violence is called for in the plot, and secondarily-and just as important-how it is treated.
“For instance, in one of my books there is a death of the daughter of the president of the synagogue. It is pivotal to the essence of the story. I intended the book to be a murder mystery. Thus, there had to be a murder. And there was. The book was peopled with characters I hoped the reader would find interesting. The interaction of these characters hinged on their relationship to the dead girl. Who had the motive, the means, and the opportunity to do the poor girl in? There were quite a few suspects. As it turned out, only the rabbi was clever enough to figure it all out.”
Winer smiled self-consciously. The audience was appreciative of his humor.
“So we have an act of violence in a book with a very religious setting. Was it necessary? Did it fit? Oh, yes, I think so.
“The next question: How was the description of violence handled?”
“Rabbi,” a student interrupted, “aren’t you just quibbling about taste? Good taste? Bad taste? Who’s to tell?”
Winer considered the question for a moment. “Ah, yes, my young man: taste. But good taste, bad taste, like morality and art, all depend on where one draws the line.
“For instance, in the case of violence-given in a murder mystery there is violence, given in life there is violence-one can write that so-and-so is shot or stabbed to death. Or, one can describe in lurid detail exactly how a person is tortured to death. All the agonies and terrors the torture victim suffers can be graphically depicted. More, one can dwell on the almost erotic pleasure the killer derives from the inflicting of torture.
“I would suggest that the first is an example of good taste, while the latter is in very poor taste.
“Sex. Sex is much like violence, a part of life. I think it almost impossible to write a book that has no reference to sex. If only to the stereotypical role of the sexes. There are traits considered feminine and those considered masculine; mannerisms, relationships that are inescapable in real life.
“When we come to intimate sexual behavior between people, once again we arrive at that line between good and bad taste. And here perhaps more than in any other situation it is difficult to know where to draw that line.
“People love each other sexually. They also manipulate and abuse one another sexually. And here it is not so much a question of description as it is minute detail. The word I’m searching for is ‘pandering’: what the Supreme Court likes to call ‘appealing to a prurient interest.’
“We could go very far afield with examples. Suffice to say that I believe you will find in the books of the writers on this panel a very decided effort to express violence and sex in reasonable taste. And I also submit that in the books of P.G. Press you will find not just bad taste but execrable taste.”
“Just a minute, Rabbi. .” Krieg’s seemingly perpetual beatific smile had almost completely disappeared. “. . It is grossly unfair of you-”
“Please,” Winer cut in, “allow me to finish. After that, the floor can be yours if you wish. We have many more days during which to thrash this out.”
Krieg, who had half risen from his seat, fell back into the chair. Sister Janet leaned toward him and whispered something. He nodded, and tried with little success to reawaken the plastic smile.