In his 1940 novel The Power and the Glory, Graham Greene portrays the life and struggle of a Catholic priest who is being persecuted for not forsaking his faith in the aftermath of the Mexican Revolution. The social and emotional hardships he has to endure are not only inflicted upon him externally, they also emerge from his own consciousness and his sense of moral. Issues like his alcoholism, his inability to leave the country and, thereby, protect his people from being treated as his collaborators and the fact that he has fathered a child constantly haunt him during his attempt to escape his conviction. Additionally, the nameless priest undergoes a serious crisis of faith as each of his actions marks another step closer to or away from Jesus' example of selflessness.

Throughout the novel, Greene makes extensive use of literary symbols and equips his characters, scenery and story line with certain aspects that hint on a deeper, yet cryptic meaning. The aim of this term paper is to give The Power and the Glory a close reading in regard to selected incidents of symbolism and to analyse the way Greene manages to entwine different layers of sociological, emotional, religious and political issues in a single plot through the application of allegory and symbols. Further, it will be focussed on the explanation and interpretation of his allusions and possible ways of relating them to the larger context of his novel. Finally, an identification of the characters' classical role allocations will be attempted with an emphasis on their particular purpose within the story and with paying attention to their embedding and relevance within the plot.

The Power and the Glory draws its narrative strength and literary depth from Greene's skill to build up a world filled with controversy that, nonetheless, in itself does not lack plausibility. Malamet calls it “a remarkable example of how the fundamental structural principle of the mystery story, that of deferral, can help to unfold the meaning of one of Greene's starkest theological dramas” (31), although the overall tension that his work evokes is not least based on a tightly woven network of symbols that can be traced throughout the novel. Thus, a critical analysis of his modus operandi concerning symbols and allegories appears promising.

Symbolism in Greene's Characters

One of the key factors that The Power and the Glory owes its vivid density to is the arrangement of the main and supportive characters, whose interactions and sentiments set the foundation on which the whole novel relies. The plot unfolds around a central protagonist, a Mexican priest who throughout the course of the story line remains nameless. The reader witnesses his torn personality as well as a process of constant motivational change that results either from his intervening consciousness or his encounter with various supportive characters. A striking feature of the characters in question is that each of them seems to typify one of the priest's emotional properties. Pattern explains:

[T]he people whom the priest meets are all symbolic of some aspect of the human condition: a trapped man (Mr. Tench), a criminal (the American gunman), purposefulness without purpose (the lieutenant), children who cannot be well understood (Brigida and Coral), a lapsed priest (Padre José), Judas (the mestizo), a beggar with inside information (nameless, but like the priest), a pious woman (likewise nameless, but art of his old self), lovers (his temptation) - in short,

[. . .] he travels an unknown way, continually meeting portions of his own character[. . .]. (321)

Apart from their collective existence in the priest, Greene's supportive characters hold further figurative value and attest an overwhelmingly complex character conception to the author.

2.1 The Priest

As the main protagonist of Greene's The Power and the Glory, the priest occupies a unique position within the plot's framework. Not only does his destiny set the readers' focus of attention, but he is also the character which unveils the most detailed insight into his personal sphere of emotions and, thus, becomes most approachable. This idea finds support in the assumption that he is far from being an ideal Roman Catholic priest who is by definition obliged to honour his vows given to his church and, thus, to completely submit to his god's commandments. On the contrary, the portrayal of the nameless priest as a simple human being, who is not immune to vice and sin rather than an example of moral values, crosses the gap between audience and lead character.

The concept of the sinful priest is elaborated on by minor transgressions which occur rather casually. When he is asked his name during the village raid he replies with the name of one of the hostages who was killed for harbouring the priest, Montez (cf. Greene 75). In itself, this already opposes God's commandment “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour” (The Holy Bible, 2Mo. 20.16), but it might also hint on an allusion within a larger context. The priest refrains from abandoning his alias on two further occasions, namely when being arrested (Greene 120) and when being questioned in jail (Greene 139). These three incidents of disowning himself can be interpreted as a reference to the biblical story of Jesus' last supper and the prediction he makes regarding his disciple Peter who is to deny his lord three times before the cock crow twice (cf. The Holy Bible, Mk. 14.30). The fact that the nameless priest does not reveal his real identity and rather negate his true name, while it is his own name he negates in contrast to Peter who negates his association with Christ (cf. The Holy Bible, Mk. 14.72), establishes a dualistic structure in the character of the priest. He is both at the very heart of his own faith as well as a traitor in respect of his religious sturdiness.

Other parallels between the priest and Christ can be detected in the motif of being chased, captured and finally executed by the regimes against whose ideological predominance the perseverance of either men stands. When the priest has finally decided that he's “had enough of escaping” (Greene 190), he leaves behind his former modes of action, which involved lies and disguises. He openly returns to the wounded American to aid him, knowing that this means “walk[ing] into [the] trap” (Greene 186) set up for him by the authorities and the mestizo. In conjunction with being betrayed by the half-caste it is striking that the priest “bore no grudge because he expected nothing else of anything human” (Greene 198). As Jesus does not condemn Judas, the nameless priest forgives his betrayer, although Jesus' motivation must be identified as love towards mankind (cf. The Holy Bible, Lu. 23.34) whereas the priest is simply disillusioned regarding human nature. As a result, certain aspects of the priest's personality first allude to Christ's ideals but are then unmasked as side effects of a misanthropic world view. His pessimistic approach is, nonetheless, shaken by the honest “love” (Greene 82) to his daughter and the sincere care he expresses for her mother. Their relationship remains distanced (cf. Greene 78-82) , though, and a close emotional connection to the two reminders of his failing as a Catholic priest cannot be established. A pattern that dominates the nameless priest's behaviour is a distinct tendency to fall into religious routines. He constantly urges himself to fill acquired religious concepts with feelings, which makes him confess his sins to himself relentlessly, yet mechanically (cf. Greene 207-210). Generally, his faith is often perverted by a shift to stiffened religious customs. Triggered by the respectful and uncloaked interest that the parishioners on the other side of the mountains bestow him, he suddenly is seized by an unintended vanity when “he could feel the old life hardening round him like a habit, a stony cast which held his head high and dictated the way he walked, and even formed his words” (Greene 187f). Combined with the manner in which the parishioners haggle for the prices of baptisms (cf. Greene 167, 170), this self-awareness possibly forced him to rethink his position and to finally return beyond the mountains when the half-caste again enters the scenery. However, it certainly puts his religious self-conception into perspective and makes him get closer to an inner stabilisation and to emotional settlement.

The most prevailing aspect of the priest's psyche is his personal conflict between responsibility and carelessness, which becomes observable in numerous situations. Not only is he an alcohol addict and, thus, often referred to as “a whisky priest” (Greene 60), and a self-proclaimed “coward” (Greene 49, 190) , but he also has a tendency to depressive notions and self-pity (cf. Greene 49, 141). Sudden onsets of spontaneous heroism (cf. Greene 77f) and his general awareness of the negative implications of his actions (cf. Greene 208), nonetheless, shine through the image of the failing priest and re-balance his portrayal. He is neither a typical literary role model, nor is he an average anti-hero. The nameless priest falls from one extreme into the other, which can be accredited to the extraordinary circumstances of his life. As a result, the main protagonist of the novel never ceases to surprise the reader and to highlight unexpected facets of the human character.

2.2 The Lieutenant

As a Mexican whose job and main aim it is to contribute to his people's safety and well-being, the lieutenant sees it as a duty of utmost importance to track down and capture any remaining active priest within his range (cf. Greene 25). The regime's argumentation has apparently influenced him in his personal opinion, which is rather opposed to engaging in any religious acts or commitments, as is depicted by the fact that “it infuriated him to think that there were still people in the state who believed in a loving and merciful God” (Greene 24). Though his personal structure of belief remains concealed, it is possible to assume that a belief in social revolution and the ideals of Marxism have taken on the role of religious eagerness in his motivational scheme. Under this perspective, his obedience to orders bears aspects of his people's obedience to God's commandments. This contrast also manifests itself in the lieutenant's disability to establish a bonding to his people (cf. Greene 220). His exterior position in the Mexican community lets him feel out of place and leads to the interdependent disconnection dominant in the relationship between self-proclaimed protector and unwillingly protected.

Curiously, the lieutenant, like the priest, remains nameless and anonymous throughout the entire story line, making his identity interchangeable. Greene presumably has equipped both roles with the quality of carrying historical relevance. It is thinkable that his conception of the priest and the lieutenant depict the two dominant, yet opposing, political and cultural positions that Greene witnessed during his stay in Mexico in 1938 (cf. Erzgräber 424). In addition, the lieutenant appears to have switched places with the priest in regard to ideological self-conception in relation to the individual profession. Pattern explicates:

The police lieutenant who successfully tracks down the priest may at first look like a perfect antithesis to the hunted man; he believes in the social revolution, he has a purely materialistic view of life, and he is fanatically anticlerical, but actually he, too, symbolises a side of the priest's character, and, fundamentally, the two men are more alike than different. Like the priest, the lieutenant has a vocation to which he has given his life. (312).

This thought is underlined by the fact that “there was something of a priest in his intent observant walk” (Greene 24).

In contrast to his socialist and anti-religious ideological credo, the lieutenant, in the end, seems to be impressed and affected by the priest's newly discovered dignity. This notion even makes him “[wait] till after dark and then” (Greene 202) go and see Padre José in order to bring him to the priest for his last confession (cf. Greene 203). When this request is rejected (cf. Greene 205), he returns to the moribund clergyman, disappointed for the sake of the nameless priest (cf. Greene 206f), yet content “with acid satisfaction” (Greene 204) that his prejudices concerning clerics have been confirmed. In total, the encounter with the man he has been hunting all along appears to have changed the lieutenant's opinion towards clergymen in general. The hint that, at this point, “he couldn't summon up any hate of the small hollow man” (Greene 207) any longer implies that the humane aura of the priest has convinced him that “he's not a bad man” (Greene 204) after all.

2.3 Padre José and Juan

Padre José is often referred to as “despicable” (Greene 27) and presented as the most negative role model within the novel. The reader learns that he has publicly forsaken his faith, taken a wife and come to terms with the regime's conditions as “a Government pensioner” (Greene 30). The negative image of Padre José hardens, when he refuses to grant the nameless priest his help. This particular scene involves an enormous amount of hate on the side of José as the reader learns that “he tried to gather up his venom into spittle and shot it feebly at the [nameless priest's] face” (Greene 118). José's overall status of failure is mirrored by the fact that “it didn't even reach, but fell impotently through the air” (Greene 118). This and other forms of impotence are attributed to Padre José manifold (cf. Greene 29).

It remains unclear whether he chose to obey the regime's demands out of fear and timidness, as is believed within his community (cf. Greene 27) or out of a more altruistic motivation, knowing that he can be of more use when he remains alive than when becoming just another martyr. This would imply that he puts the well-being of his fellow men before the salvation of his own soul, which could be signified by him stating that “he was more of a martyr than the rest” (Greene 27). As a result, José becomes the real martyr which is underlined by the idea of the townspeople's ignorance of his sacrifice and their mockery of his decision (cf. Greene 204f).

In direct contrast to José's public perception, Juan is depicted as “a true young Mexican boy” (Greene 26) and an ideal of humble faithfulness and piety. His life's story is presented as that of a true martyr's and his deeds are told in a tone of praise and adoration. As the hero of religious stories that a mother repeatedly reads to her children, Juan occupies a central position in the community's constancy (cf. Greene 26ff), almost making him a tool of religious propaganda, as the books containing his stories “were smuggled in every month from Mexico City” (Greene 26). One of the anecdotes of his life can even be interpreted as a satirical criticism of the political situation, as Juan “was chosen to play the part of Nero” (Greene 26) in “a little play before the bishop” (Greene 26), whereas his “young manhood was to be cut short by a ruler far worse than Nero” (Greene 26).

Together with the nameless priest, Padre José and Juan form a triangle of different approaches to religious life. José, at least for the people in his vicinity, stands for abandoning values for personal protection, the nameless priest is constantly transcending the lines of selfishness and responsibility, while Juan is the archetypical Christian. This structure can be interpreted as an allusion to the image of God's trinity in Roman Catholic religious contexts: three individual aspects or entities of the deity are joined into one larger concept. Likewise, the three cleric characters seem to form a more comprehensive union, a combined figure that comprises multiple approaches to individual faith and different perceptions of personal ethics.

2.4 Mothers and their Children

One of the most basic elements of a classical family image is the central unity of mother and child. Multiple constellations of this relationship and of the relationships that surround this bond are embedded in The Power and the Glory. Trixy Fellows and her daughter Coral lead a rather desolate and lonely life at the local plant of the “Central American Banana Company” (Greene 31). While Trixy is afraid of “death coming nearer every year in the strange place” (Greene 33), her daughter has developed a morbid form of self-reliance which is summed up by stating that “she was prepared” (Greene 34) which can be seen to refer to much more than just communication. This wisdom is mirrored as “maturity” (Greene 81) in the priest's daughter Brigitta. Both she and her mother Maria treat the nameless priest with hostility. Maria accuses him of endangering Mexican communities wherever he goes and she tells him that he is “no good any more to anyone” (Greene 78). Brigitta, on the other hand feels that her father is useless and a disgrace because “everyone else has a father . . . who works” (Greene 81). A third party is introduced by the mother who reads her children the story of Juan. The mother, though very pious (cf. Greene 26ff), is still extremely unforgiving regarding “traitor[s] to God” (Greene 27), by which she refers to Padre José. Moreover, she utters that she was “so worried about the boy” (Greene 27) while the two girls “are two little saints already” (Greene 27). The boy, however, has a fatalistic interest in death and weapons (cf. Greene 218f) which does not stop him from obeying the rules of the Roman Catholic church, which becomes apparent when he kisses the hand of the unknown priest (cf. Greene 222). Finally, there is the tragic mother and child relationship between the Indian mother and her shot boy. Although her son is killed, the mother insists on taking him to a plateau with “a grove of crosses” (Greene 154) in order to set him to rest there under the symbolic protection of God. The Indian woman alludes to a simple, basic, yet indestructible “faith in the spittle that healed the blind man and the voice that raised the dead” (Greene 155).

Within these relationships, another case of triangular structure can be made out as Coral, Brigitta and the nameless priest all feel rejected by a father figure in their lives. Coral cannot relate to her father in a loving manner (cf. Greene 33f), Brigitta even accuses her father of being useless (cf. Greene 81) and, ultimately, the nameless clergyman feels the absence of his heavenly father (cf. Greene 151). Concluding, it can be derived that neither wisdom, as presented in Coral, nor knowledge of life, as attributed to Brigitta, nor sturdiness, as it is visible in the priest, will provide shelter from feeling abandoned and lost, once this feeling has found a way to establish itself in a person.

2.5 Mr. Tench and the Gringo

Two of the supporting characters whose existence is solely entering the readers' awareness in short episodic encounters are Mr. Tench and the American gunman. As the glances into Mr. Tench's life enclose the story line's beginning (cf. Greene 7-19) and ending (cf. Greene 214-217), the gringo is mentioned continuously and finally introduced in person at the novel's dramatic peak (cf. Greene 187).

In association with Mr. Tench, quite a number of symbolic references are alluded to. As a dentist, he is concerned with the physical condition of the public and, thus, their sanitary well-being. He is professionally related to one of the half-caste's most protruding properties, dental decay. Bearing in mind the option of physical decay being allegoric of social decay, Tench's intention may well be to stop or even reverse the ongoing ruin of the Mexican country. This image finds support in the persistence with which he waits for his “ether cylinder” (Greene 7), a possible relief from the pain of dental operations and symbolic of the general relief from the sufferings the oppressed Mexican people has to endure. Certain facets of his depiction are shared by that of the nameless priest. Tench, for once, sees himself as abandoned by God (cf. Greene 10), causing him to experience the feeling of being trapped in the darkness of divine absence, a sentiment the clergyman also has to sustain. Tench's drinking and the priest's alcoholism make them fellow sufferers. What's more, both allusions to drinking, drug addiction and the resulting numbness are expanded to their professional lives, as symbolised by the ether cylinder and altar wine (cf. Greene 78). Figuratively, the clergyman even tranquillises and calms people by providing religious guidance, absolution and peace of mind.

The American gunman can be traced as a mere aim of various references along the story line. It is only in the moment of the priest's change of attitude that he enters the scenery in person. The fate of the two men are intertwined as symbolised by their two photographs being pinned up next to each other (cf. Greene 121) and as later becomes noticeable when the priest returns to the dying gringo (cf. Greene 187). A uniting factor in both men is the disregard for other people when it comes to decide about what measures to take in different situations. Neither man is willing to give up easily, the American struggles with his last breath to reach for his knife (cf. Greene 189) whereas the priest is a fugitive that is very hard to catch for Mexican authorities. Their endurance even results in their passing away without having been absolved (cf. Greene 189f, 205), which consequently, for a Christian, means the arrival before God without being cleansed of sins. At least is this fate brought upon the priest and the gringo due to their last attempts to help another man, be it the gunman's try to hand his knife to the priest for self protection or the clergyman's effort to save the criminal's soul from damnation.

Once more, a triangular structure emerges between three of The Power and the Glory's characters. The figures of Mr. Tench, the gringo and the priest share a general dream of escaping their lives' misery, be it caused by political, religious or social problems. In spite of their issues with the particular situations they are trapped in, they all still uphold a hopeless tenacity in clinging to life. Also, all three men are united in loneliness and desolation.

2.6 The Mestizo

The man who finally delivers the priest to his persecutors is referred to in The Power and the Glory alternatively as “the mestizo” (Greene 181), “the half-caste” (Greene 182) or even “Judas” (Greene 99). Still, all these denotations imply a racial or ethical mixture of incompatible pre-sets. As a mestizo is usually the offspring and genetic combination of Spanish and Mexican parents, the term half-caste also alludes to the lack of a cultural identity and to the feeling of being lost between two different cultures. The name Judas, thus, points at the duality in moral values. Connoted with Judas Iscariot is his relationship with Jesus Christ. As one of Jesus' disciples, Judas first accepts Christ as his lord, but betrays him afterwards (cf. The Holy Bible, Lk. 22.48), dooming him to a horrible death. Shocked of his own deed, Judas, in complete desperation, commits suicide (cf. The Holy Bible, Mt. 27.5). This final sin against God's commandments will result in eternal damnation for his soul, a fact of which Judas was certainly aware. The idea of opposing moral values is mirrored in the mestizo's claim that he is “a good Christian” (Greene 90) while he seeks to lure the priest into a trap. Like Judas, the half-caste becomes the bane of his own faith's impersonation and, thus, knowingly condemns himself to perdition under the rules of his religion. The request for the priest's blessing (cf. Greene 197) forms a parallel to Judas' remorse and his wish to clear his conscience (cf. The Holy Bible, Mt. 27.3+4) which for him cannot be achieved. Unable to live with the guilt of having assisted in his lord's execution, Judas only sees the option of killing himself, whereas the mestizo counts on the power of a blessing to rid himself of his sin. This concept of faith is rebuked by the priest who explains that he cannot cheat God and that no matter how much he denies his betrayal, it will not be undone by disclaiming it to yourself, God or anyone else (cf. Greene 197). Here, the half-caste's understanding seems to fail. The decision to turn the priest in to the authorities with all the consequences that are to result from it creates a parallel between the mestizo and his victim. The obvious deceit of the nameless priest finds its counterpart in his determination to temporarily forsake his child, though involuntarily it may be conducted. A diverse stance in coping with the moral implications persists, though. The priest is well aware of the hardship he inflicts upon his child (cf. Greene 132), whereas the half-caste is of total ignorance concerning this issue. Ultimately, although there is evidently a basic factual knowledge and faith in Catholic belief, the mestizo's selfish and egocentric attitude marks him as an opportunist and a hypocrite.

Concerning his physical appearance, it is remarkable that his teeth are referred to as “canines” (Greene 84), reminding the reader of the mongrel with the broken back that roams the banana station which the priest uses as a shelter after his release from prison (cf. Greene 140). This comparison can be expanded by both creatures being in a desolate physical condition and of mixed origin, as signified in the denotations used for reference within the novel (half-caste, mestizo, mongrel). Animal connotations and the primal urge of feeding are introduced into the context of the mestizo's character, his need to earn a living in order to survive is expressed through the hunt for his prey. The predominant colour in correlation with the half-caste is “yellow” (Greene 86), the colour that usually is a synonym of fear and dread. This fear might be of repressions from the regime or of fear of survival due to extreme poverty, however, the nameless priest is well aware of the calamitousness his people has to endure. This can be seen as one of the reasons for his understanding of the impending betrayal.

In the end, the half-caste depicts an evil and early foreboding of the disastrous end the priest and the story as a whole are heading to. This evil contains a definite necessity, for it is the driving force behind the clergyman's emergence as the martyr he was set up to become. Like the vultures, the continuous appearance of the mestizo overshadows the protagonist's path and he is established as a constant reminder of a morbid fugacity.

4 Conclusion

The Power and the Glory, which is, according to Woodman, mainly concerned with “the tremendous spiritual drama of salvation or damnation in Catholicism” (140) presents the full scape of Greene's ability and skill to develop a multi-level story line and a plot that, though complex and extensive, never shows a hint of dubiety. Throughout the novel, the reader is bound to experience an atmosphere of suppression and persecution while the protagonist and his supportive characters are engaged in their lives of longing and desolation, hunting and being hunted, love and indifference. Whole new aspects of faith and religion are highlighted and common conventions regarding character development are overturned for the sake of his characters' uniqueness.

Greene's use of symbols and allegories in The Power and the Glory must be deemed an extraordinary literary achievement both for its subtlety and for the effectiveness of his images. The analysis of some of his instances of symbolism has clearly shown that under the obvious surface of character depiction, there is an entire network of correlations and interdependences that contributes to the epic extent of his work. The idea of creating a set of very diverse and individual protagonists, though difficult it may be to implement their particular modes of action, has successfully formed the structural basis for a compelling and thrilling novel. Moreover, designing the characters in the fashion of a radial shape with the nameless priest at the very centre and his supportive characters as the corresponding spokes of the wheel presents Greene as an expert in evaluating social relationships in regard to their potential value for a plot.

The numerous layers of thinkable allusions between the different figures of The Power and the Glory and the fact that Greene enhances these underlying foundations of his work with additional symbols in environment or setting give an even more elaborate facet to his novel. Without question, his writing, especially in The Power and the Glory, has, not least through the application of said symbols, transcended the boundaries of average plot lines and established a new understanding for interdependent character preconditions and developments.