Heresy

Giordano Bruno (friar, philosopher, and the protagonist of Heresy) was persecuted by the Inquisition at the end of the sixteenth century for preaching the infinity of the universe and its heliocentric model, preceding even the famous Galileo. It is said that his last speech, when he was finally captured by the Inquisition in 1600 and sentenced to death for heresy, was, “Perhaps you who pronounce my sentence are in greater fear than I who receive it”. His well-documented history serves as the basis for a thriller that, despite having a fascinating historical setting, fails to properly bring together its various plotlines.

The story of Heresy focuses on a very specific point in Giordano Bruno’s life, telling his voyage in 1583 to Oxford. He’s there on the pretext of participating in a debate on Copernicus, but in reality he’s searching for the lost manuscript of an Egyptian priest, Hermes Trismegistus, while acting as a spy for the English intelligence service, seeking Catholics who might be plotting against the Protestant Queen Elizabeth. However, upon arriving in Oxford, Giordano finds himself trapped in a web of mysterious murders that he decides he wants to solve.

By this brief synopsis, we can already see the high number of goals the protagonist must achieve and, consequently, the huge number of subplots they open. Trying to tie all these stories together is the novel’s greatest challenge and shortcoming. The murder plot, for example, takes a while to get going, with Heresy having to first establish the historical background of the story – some references are unnecessary, however, such as the vaunted presence of a Polish prince in Oxford –, the political turmoil of the time, and Giordano’s interest in Hermes Trismegistus. Consequently, Heresy ends up pushing the first murder farther away into the story, which takes a while to begin.

Indeed, the murders never become the main plot point of Heresy, but it’s only because it doesn’t have one. While Giordano investigates the killings – and apparently more out of morbid curiosity and lack of what to do in Oxford than for any particular reason – he spends equal time searching for Hermes’ manuscript and dealing with conspiracy theories inside the University. Here’s the novel’s main problem: it never decides which one of its storylines is the more important one, and so the story seems unfocused, leaving one plot hanging while diverting its attention to the other – if these distinct storylines merged sooner, Heresy would have been a much better book.

It doesn’t help that the secondary characters can hardly be considered memorable, being caricatures typical of suspense stories: very conspicuous people who are always giving away that they’re hiding something from the detective. The only one who really stands out is John Underhill, who is impacted more heavily by the terrible events and demonstrates a touching conflict between his fragile personality and the position of power that he needs so much to maintain.

Regarding the protagonist, Giordano Bruno was a famous theologian for his theories on the universe, defending that Earth was not the center of our galaxy, but the Sun, and that the universe was infinite, containing infinite planets, suns, and galaxies, many possibly inhabited. However, Giordano as a character in Heresy barely touches on these subjects. With the book being narrated in the first person, the narrative was given the perfect instrument to construct personal reflections on these theories and show how the character came by them, but practically nothing is developed regarding these points. Even the debate with the dean of Oxford, which is highlighted so much at the beginning of the book, is glanced over when it finally happens, giving us the terrible excuse of not wanting to annoy us with useless data: Heresy seems ashamed of its own protagonist, fearing that his theories will bore the reader.

The novel also misses the opportunity of exploring one of the most promising ironies in the story: the fact that Giordano is going to be persecuted by the Inquisition and is, nonetheless, taking on the role of an informer who will bring people to their death for their religious convictions – there’s just a brief mention at the end of the novel. In other words, Heresy fails to develop any point that could make Giordano Bruno a memorable character.

The novel, however, fares much better when it comes to exploring its climax. Although the revelation of the killer’s identity is far from surprising or even exciting, the moment is nonetheless effective in playing with the ambiguity inherent to points of view: it gives us just Giordano’s view on the events but reminds us that it may not be the truth, opening paths for interpretation that can transform Giordano into his own tormentor and shed a more sinister light on his actions.

The climax of Heresy is its best part by far, delivering even some basic religious criticisms (“Your tolerance would destroy in twenty days what twenty years of suffering has only served to strengthen”) that the whole book could and should have had from the very start, taking advantage of its main character. The ending is also proof that it’s actually beneficial for the reader to know the fate of Giordano beforehand, as it’s packed with references to his death at the stake.

Heresy is a historical thriller that fails to live up to both its complex premise and fascinating protagonist, badly managing all its subplots while never taking full advantage of Giordano Bruno’s character and history.

December 28, 2024.

Review originally published in Portuguese on March 11, 2015.