By M.T. Anderson
Pantheon, 240 pages, $28
Nicked is a great-hearted, mischievous novel. The story, the characters, the theological
exploration nicked my heart straightaway.
M.T. Anderson deftly weaves the historical contemporary accounts of a theft in 1087 of St. Nicholas from its original resting place in the Lydian village of Myra, where he resided as bishop, with the saint’s hagiography to produce a novel that captures the essence of the medieval nonfiction he finds so fascinating. “I wanted to write a historical novel with the love of a good story, incidental detail, and willful inaccuracy demanded by the European Middle Ages themselves,” he writes in an afterword.
Much as 21st-century readers might cringe, the stealing of holy relics — pieces of the bodies of dead saints — was big business in medieval times. Communities resorted to unsavory tactics to obtain even a piece of a saint’s body, so that they might acquire the miraculous. Competition for a finger, a toe, a skull, was fierce, and small towns coveted them just as much as cities like Venice.
In the case of the Blessed Nicholas, “his body weeps an ichor,” which cures any ailing person who drinks this medicine. The Italian town of Bari, suffering a pox outbreak, needs such a miracle. The saint appears to a compassionate Benedictine monk in a dream; the town leaders, including the abbot, the archbishop, and the Norman duke, co-opt it as a sign that Nicholas’s body wants to abandon Myra for Bari. They hire Tyun, a roguish Turkish saint hunter, and his crew, and the quest begins.
“I will tell the story of the heist of St. Nicholas’s body from its tomb. I will tell it as it was told to me by musicians and drunkards and guidebooks and lovers. Though I am an unbeliever, I pray for faith.” These words from one of the opening passages set the tone for Nicked and the questions Anderson’s work elicits about bodies and faith.
Holy relics are all about the body. That may seem obvious, but when was the last time you pondered such a sacred object? Just how holy are the remains of a saint? To whom do they belong? Does a relic belong in a museum, to quote pop culture’s favorite relic hunter, Indiana Jones? In a church? Is faith in their miraculous nature simply superstition, a relic in and of itself? Many in Western culture may no longer believe in the sanctity of human bones; we’ve convinced ourselves, maybe rightly so, that the miraculous no longer exists in that form. Veneration can quickly turn into idolatry.
Nicked has a revelatory quality, yet Anderson remains grounded in the physical world of the quest and its consequences in the lives of the characters, culminating in this disclaimer in the afterword: “Despite all appearances to the contrary, this book is closely based on real events.”
For example, Reprobus, Tyun’s first mate, is a cynocephale, one of the dog-headed people that Marco Polo reports encountering in the account of his 13th-century travels from Venice to the court of Kublai Khan in China. Passages from Scripture, such as 1 Corinthians 13 and Psalm 133, subtly woven into the text, lend more authenticity and earthiness to this work. References to other fictional quests make for added delight.
Anderson challenges readers to consider the consequences of a faith that loses sight of compassion and relationship with God. Perhaps we need more such quests for the holy in the ordinary that help us see the other face to face. Nicked is a gift for any time of the year. Come and feast.
