From Jihad to Joy
I first met the author of The Egyptian Guide at a conference a couple of years ago, where we chatted about writing. Evelyn had, I learned, been particularly struck by the similarity between the themes in my novels, especially I Am Margaret and Someday, and Evelyn’s own work-in-progress. In a spirit of solidarity with a kindred Catholic author, I agreed to read Evelyn’s book when it was finished, and (when I had almost forgotten about the whole thing!) I had a nice surprise when it finally pinged into my inbox.
It turned out to be worth the wait. Evelyn has produced a novel that is reflective, meditative, lyrical, and bursting with the most beautiful metaphors about faith. Yes, it deals with those same pressing issues of our times that drive me to write – aggressive secularism, religious oppression, radical Islam – but in a way very different from my own writing, though most effective.
The Egyptian Guide takes the reader along on Clara’s journey of faith and self-discovery, providing a whistle-stop tour of the joys and wonders of the Catholic faith along the way, challenging us to reflect on a whole range of issues, right through from the material, to the spiritual. And indeed, to reflect on the connection between the material and the spiritual, especially with regard to the sanctity of human life. It is a book that will speak to you personally. I was particularly delighted by the appearance of St. Margaret Clitherow, the Pearl of York, whom I consider to be a Patroness of, and inspiration for, my own work. But each reader will find his or her own points of reflection.
The journey is not all contemplation: there’s action, and there’s certainly sacrifice. As well as being an enchanting meditation on the beauties of Catholicism, The Egyptian Guide delivers a powerful, and timely, warning about those twin threats: Aggressive Secularism and Radical Islam, both of which are trying so hard to crush the Church.
Hence it is not only ‘old’ saints that we meet in The Egyptian Guide. The ‘new,’ fictional saints Evelyn Oliver gives us are so vivid and wonderful that after finishing the book I occasionally found myself on the point of asking for their prayers – only to recollect that they are, well, fictional! Of course, at the moment, similar new martyrs are surely arriving in heaven on a regular basis. We may never know some of them until we (Lord willing) arrive there ourselves; others, we may know on earth in due course, once the wheels of canonisation have finished their careful revolutions. And so parts of this book feel like a compelling glimpse of things to come, a warning of the strife that could be approaching, but still it is a tale of hope, and glory.
Ultimately, one of the greatest challenges Clara faces in The Egyptian Guide, probably the greatest challenge, is exactly that faced by my own heroines, Margo in I Am Margaret and Ruth in Someday: ‘Would I die for my faith?’ This is a question that has been of vital importance for Christians ever since the earliest days of the Church, though at different times and in different places it has had more or less relevance to Christians’ everyday lives. Alas, we are again living in a time when, though we may well hope never to have to give proof of our answer, it is no longer unthinkable that we might.
And that is the single most challenging message in The Egyptian Guide – that Clara could be any one of us, some day very soon.
The Egyptian Guide is available from the LMS bookshop, £14.99 + p&p.