Long overdue in resuming my Around the World for a Book project, I had trouble settling on what to read for the independent nation of the Holy See. Do I read something issued by a pope or bishop from the Vatican? Do I read a fictional work composed by a high-ranking Catholic leader while he was in the Vatican, and if I do does it really represent the culture of Vatican City or is it a product of the homeland that man comes from? Does the Holy See have a literary culture it can call its own at all? Eventually I settled on Hutchinson’s book, a non-fiction work by an American, yes, but it appealed to me because he spent a year living in Rome to learn about the daily life in the Vatican. Thus he writes about the Pope and high-ranking bishops, but also about the Swiss Guards, the Vatican Bank, the library and secret archives, the tailors who make all the holy garb, the only man who speaks Latin, and the sampietrini who clean and maintain St. Peter’s basilica. In amongst the day-in-the-life of the Vatican vignettes are historical bits about papal scandals, relics, Queen Christina of Sweeden, and the bones of St. Peter. Hutchinson encounters a lot of red-tape, scowls, and silence along the way that hamper his admittedly not-so-investigative journalism, but he still manages to write a fun book.

“What non-Catholics sometimes don’t understand is that most ordinary Catholics usually have a kind of familial concern for the pope, as though he were a grandfather. Theology is beside the point. You might disagree with the pope on some issue but still worry about his health, enjoy his company, listen respectfully to what he has to say – as you would to your own grandfather. You might also ignore your grandfather’s advice, of course, but that doesn’t mean you want him to stop giving it. You understand that he’s telling it to you for your own good and that even when you ignore the advice, he’s probably right.” (p. 41)

“The Holy See is merely an outward symbol – a unifying symbol, to be sure, but a symbol nonetheless – for a faith that is somewhat larger that what is found in the 108 acres of the Vatican. Whenever I was put off by some particularly ill-mannered Vatican bureaucrat, I would go visit one the major pilgrim centers, with tour buses parked outside, and be instantly cheered up.” (p 199)

“I’d like to be able to say that my explorartions of the Vatican strengthened my faith as a Catholic in the way, say, that touring the United States Capitol makes you proud to be an American. But that’s not a good comparison. The monuments of Washington, D.C. – or even those of London or Paris – convey a grandeur that the Vatican, despite the glories of St. Peter’s, really does not. If anything, spending time in the Vatican is a humbling experience. There is a lot less there than meets the eye.

A religion with a history as checkered as that of Christianity – inexctricably tied with Borgia popes, the Inquisition, and the Crusades – must speak its truth quietly. Like the people of Israel in the Old Testament – who continually broke their promises, abandoned or murdered their brothers, and worshipped the golden calf – Christians are, in the end, just as St. Paul said, hypocritical sinners. The Vatican teaches you that.” (p. 285) ( )

Enjoyable, mostly irreverent recounting of a Catholic journalist's exploration of the Vatican. Laugh out loud funny in some parts. ( )