Journal d'un Cure de Campagne

Lured to the original novel by legends about Robert Bresson's 1950 film version, I was unsure what to expect.  The first two thirds of the work seemed ponderous and somewhat opaque, while the final third was extremely worthwhile without in any way shedding its tendency to remain obtuse.  I rarely read such preternaturally religious novels, so much of the narrator's internal spiritual struggles were lost on me.  But the motorcycle ride with M. Olivier, and the ensuing conversation, is sufficiently brilliant that it justifies the reading of the entire novel, if only just barely.  A different reader might be similarly moved by the conversion of Mme. la Comtesse, or how the narrator deals with his own mortality.

A book to read, but perhaps not re-read.  Fortunately, we have Bresson's film.