This winter I've been enjoying the Brother Cadfael mystery series produced for British television (and originally airing in America on PBS Mystery) in the mid-late 1990s. Starring Sir Derek Jacobi as the title medieval monk/sleuth, the series is based on the Brother Cadfael mystery novels by Ellis Peters.

Usually when I discover a book character I enjoy first via film or television, I can't wait to head straight for the source. But although our library has a number of the Brother Cadfael Chronicles (there were 20 novels in all, published between the late 1970s and mid-1990s) I've been a bit hesitant about diving in. This is more for personal reasons than anything else: as someone who teaches English church history, reading novels set in an English monastery in the late 12th century can feel a bit like a busman's holiday. The first time I dipped into one of the novels, I found the prose surprisingly dense and rich in detail. I liked it, but found myself needing something lighter to escape into right then, so only read a few chapters.

But at last I have found my "in" into the mystery writing of Ellis Peters: I discovered the one and only short story collection in the Brother Cadfael mysteries: A Rare Benedictine. I was immediately drawn to it, both because of the format and the content. Short stories provided me an opportunity to sample Peters' prose in smaller doses, and I was fascinated to discover that these particular stories purported to deal with Brother Cadfael's pre-monastery past and his entrance into religious life. Apparently by 1988, when these stories were first published, readers were eager to know more about Cadfael's younger days.

According to Peters' introduction, when she began writing these particular novels, the protagonist who "emerged" when she needed one was Brother Cadfael: already almost 60 years old, having been a monk for 17 years.  But his pre-Benedictine life comes into play throughout his sleuthing career: the bits and pieces that we know (especially about his time as a solider in the Crusades) are fascinating.  Peters decided the short story was a good opportunity to "glance behind" and "shed light on his vocation" and I'm glad she did. Since Cadfael's personality is my favorite mystery within these mysteries, I thought this book might not be a bad place to start.

And what a terrific collection it is. I thoroughly enjoyed all three stories along with the author's introduction. I was surprised to find that only the first "A Light on the Road to Woodstock," deals with Cadfael's pre-monastery life; the other two, "The Price of Light,"  and "Eye Witness" take place a number of years later, closer in time to the beginning of the novels, when Cadfael has had time to settle into his vocation as a monk and his specific vocation-within-vocation as the community's herbalist and healer. But note that all the titles have something to do with light/vision/seeing. One gets the sense that Cadfael's call is being examined and clarified throughout.

I was gratified to find the character of Cadfael very familiar (screenwriters and Jacobi have apparently done a good job of interpreting him for the small screen). And it's interesting to note that he doesn't seem to change a great deal as he moves from the life of a soldier to that of a monk: he's always been solid, compassionate, observant, loyal to his vows, and yet ever-ready to be faithful, in the pursuit of justice, to a higher allegiance than either his secular or monastic masters. Peters goes out of her way in the introduction to note that his turn to the monastery was not precisely a matter of "conversion," as he has always been, as she terms him "an unquestioning believer." And yet she does present in the first story a kind of turning point where Cadfael reaches the end of one season of life and turns, wholeheartedly, to a new season, embracing a different and more peaceable way of life than he has grasped until now.

The fact that Cadfael will make such a turning is set up early, both in the title of the story "A Light on the Road..." (giving us echoes of the Biblical account of the apostle Paul's conversion) and in the fact that his traveling companion, a clerk/copyist named Alard, turns out to be a former monk turned soldier now longing to return to the monastery.  Both men are in the service of one Roger Mauduit, for whom they have been fighting in Normandy in 1120 (in the wars of King Henry I, youngest son of William the Conqueror). They agree to stay briefly in his service upon return to England, during which time Roger plans to engage in a legal suit against the abbey of Shrewsbury, trying to regain some property his father once gave to the abbey.

It turns out that Roger's wife, while he was away fighting, has made some interesting alliances. Although she appears to be helping her husband, there may be more going on than meets the eye. Things get complicated when Roger, riding to meet the prior of Shrewsbury so their case can be decided by the king, is accosted by bandits. The next day, the prior is taken captive, apparently by the same bandits, though Cadfael's shrewdly notes the odd coincidence. Unsurprisingly, it's Cadfael who untangles all the various allegiances and sets right what needs setting right. This may well be the first mystery Cadfael ever solves, but as usual, it's more his understanding of the mysteries of human nature that help him to work things out. Along the way, his contact with Alard (whose longing to return to religious life is movingly portrayed) and the service he renders to the prior from Shrewsbury makes his decision to make his own vows almost self-evident.

I had hoped the second story might give us a glimpse into Cadfael's novitiate and his adjustment to life as a brother, but it was not to be. The Cadfael we find in "The Price of Light" has been in the monastery for fifteen years and seems very settled. The mystery, beautifully formulated and written, concerns a pair of missing silver candlesticks on Our Lady's altar. They were given by a grotesque man named Hamo whose only reason for such charity is the hope that such an act might save his perverted, greedy soul. Cadfael, as the community herbalist, is able to observe much about Hamo's convoluted household including a beautiful young wife, a steward, and a lady's maid who appears to be of Norse origin. He quickly discerns who has stolen the candlesticks, but there are surprising twists to the story and an even more surprising twist to the satisfying outcome that Cadfael helps to arrange.

The third story "Eye Witness" seems to take place not long after the second. When the chief steward who collects the yearly rents from the abbey's tenants is attacked and nearly killed (with the abbey rents stolen in the bargain) it's Cadfael who helps nurse the man back to health while discovering the surprising identity of the attacker. He does so by laying a clever trap for the thief and would-be murderer, spreading the word that there was an eyewitness to the attack (an old local man who sleeps in a barn loft near the river). In the meantime, Cadfael works to reconcile the injured man to his wayward son, whom other people suspect might have tried to hurt his father. I love how Cadfael almost never suspects the obvious person, especially if that person is down and out or in any way an underdog. And he always turns out to be right!

My only complaint with this collection is that there are only 3 stories. I could have done with at least 3 more, especially if at least one had dealt with Cadfael's novitiate. But what's here is grand. Characters are well developed, historic settings beautifully rendered, and mystery plots tightly drawn. Fans of the series will meet some familiar friends -- Brother Oswin and Brother Jerome both make appearances -- but the pages belong first and last to Brother Cadfael as they should. Clifford Harper's colorful medieval illustrations are sprinkled throughout, adding to a sense of richness. You can glimpse my favorite illustration in the cover art above, which presents a visual triptych of Cadfael "emerging" from one profession/calling into the next, as the panels progress.

If you're a fan of the television series looking for an entrance into the books, A Rare Benedictine is a good place to make the acquaintance of the original, literary version of Brother Cadfael.

~befus, 2009

Public libraries are wonderful! I visit our's frequently, and one of the things I love most is the way I can often find both good books and the films or television series they inspired. Books and DVDs are just two of the many terrific resources that can be enjoyed for free at your local public library. Celebrate libraries by visiting one, and then review what you borrowed in laurashrti's National Library Week write-off. 

Recommended: Yes