Customer Reviews

Barabbas

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

This short novel by Scandinavian Nobel Prize winner Par Lagerkvist fills in a little hole left open by the Bible; specifically, what happens to Barabbas after the crowd chooses to crucify Jesus and spare his life. The book begins with Barabbas being freed. He is in a state of bewilderment, and something within him leads him to follow Christ to the cross, where he witnesses the death. Afterwards, he tries to pick up the pieces of his life and wanders through town. By coincidence, he encounters some of the 12 apostles at a small cafe without knowing who they are, though they know who he is. When he discovers their identities, he is somewhat drawn to them yet repulsed by their poorly-concealed anger. In quick succession, he witnesses the stoning of a female friend, works as a laborer on a wealthy estate, and travels to Rome. There he sees Rome burn down around him, discovers that this was done on orders of the emperor to be blamed on the Jews. He is captured along with some Jews (some of whom he recognizes from Golgotha) and killed.

The story is easy to read, yet delivers a very strong emotional impact. The different individuals Barabbas encounters are shown as very human, with faults and frailties that make the reader empathizes with them. The apostles that Barabbas meet are not Biblical heroes in any sense of the word, but grieving friends who wrench their hearts to try and not bear ill-will towards him. The various Roman soldiers and officials are shown as all too human; some cruel, some sympathetic towards the Jews and others apathetic.

The theme of death is pervasive throughout the book, as it starts with the death of Christ and ends with the death of Barabbas. Death seems to follow Barabbas at every step. He somehow feels this, but does not try to run; he has nowhere and noone to run to. Nearly all the people he meets end up dying; often at the hand of others. As such, the book not only portrays a man, but a society that places little value on life, less than that placed on money, law, order, revenge, honor, etc... Death is truly inescapable in the life of Barabbas, and he comes to realize near the end of the book that it is not how or when you die, but what you die for, something Christ tried to show him and everyone else at the beginning of the book.

In all, one of the best books by this Nobel Prize-winning author. This English translation is easy to understand; the story flows smoothly, the dialogue is simple, and human emotions are conveyed but with strength and subtlety. I highly recommend this book.

I first found this book by accident, while browsing through the Amazon.com book lists. Then one day I found it in a shelf here in Brazil and decided to buy it. At first sight it didn't seem to be a very impressive book, especially because it was so thin. However, I must say I was totally "hooked" by the style of Mr. Lagerkvist.

He is so economical in his writing, that basically almost every one of his sentences or descriptions carry a lot of "weight". I believe the power of his writing comes from his "raw" style. It's such a short phrase or description, but yet so powerful, that several times I stopped to reflect about that part or caught myself thinking about it at a later time.

As you must have already know, this is the story of Barabbas, who was a terrible criminal and escaped the "Death Row" of his time, because Jesus was chosen to die in his place.

It is a beautiful story, because unlike many modern writers, Mr. Lagerkvist never tries to build a "hero" or any of the things I read a lot in these books for writers I tend to buy. He also never "melts" over emotional passages that could lead to a "hollywood drama" scene...

We basically follow this miserable and damned being, through the rest of his existence, as he tries to understand the life of the stranger called Jesus and at the same time find some clue about his pointless existence.

I can even say I am a bit suspect to praise this book, since I have this major crush on books about redemption or deep and lonely characters. It is always nice to read a book which touches the human condition with such objectivity.

Oh, and this book has a very powerful and beautiful end. If you found this book and is still reading this review, I believe you should probably buy it. I have no doubt this is a book worth reading!

Barabbas, the ultimate sinner, the one human being Jesus literally died for on the cross. Magnificently portrayed by Lagerkvist, true to the biblical story and still very subtly questioning every truth, including the great truth of the Bible. Lagerkvist shows humanity's need and search for belief. Barabbas wants to believe. Others do believe and have their own truth, their own morals. They are self-claimed Christians but often hypocrites and not necessarily very good people. A story in the story, the unfortunate looking girl with the hare-lip, but with a good heart, being loathed and condemned. And at the same time the blind man condemning the "bad" people, but not accepting any responsibility for whatever happens, because "he is blind, he can't see anything, he only say what he hears..." I wondered whether I should give the book four or five stars, and easily decided on five, because Lagerkvist handles the subject with such care and respect, without making some sensational fairy tale out of this biblical event, which might have tempted others. Instead we accept it as a very genuine story and happily believe that this is Barabbas' story, and could just as well have been a part of the Bible. The capturing of the atmosphere in Jerusalem after the crucifixion is totally convincing. Also, in showing these very fine but simple portraits of humanity, Lagerkvist proved a very rare and deep understanding of human beings. Highly recommended!

Barabbas is one of those books that covers a lot of territory in a small package. Purely a work of fiction, it is a classic "what if." The story follows the life of one of history's most famous names, yet a person that we know nothing about. What I found interesting was the honest portrayal of the times. The era was not a clean intellectual period, but rather a dirty, dangerous, largely illiterate time in history when life was typically short and painful. It is also striking what little information the believers of the time had. Where we have multiple Bible translations, study groups, commentaries, etc., they became followers based on the smallest scraps of information, and were unable to articulate their faith in little more than a few abstract sentences. Yet, they were passionate believers. A thoughtful book worthy of investing a couple hours into on a rainy evening.

Five otherwise divergent Gospel accounts of the Crucifixion -- those of Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, and Peter -- depict the scene in which the "crowd" clamors for the release of a thief/rioter named Barabbas rather than of Jesus of Nazareth. Pontius Pilate grants their choice, and we learn nothing more about this Barabbas, nothing about his prior life and nothing about his later fate. Lots of Biblical scholars, both Christian and Jewish, have challenged the historicity of the Barabbas scene, arguing that it was inserted and/or recast by those who copied and disseminated the Gospels in later centuries. One common argument is that Barabbas was actually "Jesus Barabbas", therefore that the predominantly Jewish crowd had clamored for the RELEASE of Jesus of Nazareth rather than his crucifixion. The name "Barabbas" is in fact plain Aramaic for "Son of the Father", which does sound suspiciously like "Son of God". But, by the magic of recorded sound, let's fly 16 centuries into the future, to the era of Heinrich Schütz and Johann Sebastian Bach, and listen to the plangent hoots of the "Jews" demanding the release of Barabbas and the death of Jesus. Yes, those few phrases from the Gospels, especially the Gospel of Matthew, played an odious role in the history of Christian anti-Semitism, being used insistently to label the Jews as "Christ-killers."

Pär Lagerkvist's short "gospel" of the non-Crucifixion of Barabbas is entirely a work of imagination; none of Lagerkvist's account of the later life of the pardoned criminal is based on historical sources. In Lagerkvist's tale, Barabbas is present at the crucifixion of the rabbi Jesus, a pitiful figure who could hardly be mistaken for any sort of saviour since he couldn't even save himself. Barabbas, however, is profoundly distressed by his unwitting role in the drama, and by the doubt that lurks in his mind over whether the man who died in his place might indeed have been more than a Man. He is unable to believe any such absurdity, yet he is also unable to dissociate himself from belief and believers. Lagerkvist's story has little to add or subtract from the issue of Jewish "guilt" for the Crucifixion; it's focused entirely on the dilemma of Barabbas's obsession with a "belief" he can't acknowledge. He was there, don't forget. He observed the transformation of simple material events into miracles, and rumors into gospel truths. He contributed, sometimes deliberately, to the codification of the Myth. His was the cynical lie about the Angel with the Flaming Sword who burst open the Tomb. Barabbas is the rational doubter, the man who can't lie to himself.

"Barabbas" has always been the most widely read of Lagerkvist's novels among anglophones, and its publication in 1951 coincided with the author's reception of the Nobel Prize for Literature. The later American film of Barabbas, with Anthony Quinn in the title role, certainly helped to popularize the book. But I think -- and pardon me for doing so -- that the ambiguity of "Barabbas" as a portrayal of spiritual/existential agony has also made the book more acceptable to a wider readership than Lagerkvist's earlier, harsher, more relentless depictions of human despair. The last thirty-some words of "Barabbas" are devastatingly ambiguous -- I won't quote them lest I spoil any reader's experience -- and can justifiably be interpreted as "redemptive" or as "nihilistic". If indeed Barabbas accepts belief in his dying moments, what does it mean? Belief in God, after all, is no proof of the Existence of God.

The Swedish word for 'strong' is "starka", and Barabbas is stark in both Swedish and English. Lagerkvist's style is spare. Lean and mean. Ruthlessly unadorned. This is not my own favorite of his books, but if you've never read him, it's probably the book to start with.

I really enjoyed this book for a number of reasons. It was very interesting to see Lagerkvist flesh out the brief story of Barabbas from the Bible, while posing valid and universal questions about man's capability for faith. Reminded me a lot of one of my favorite books, Albert Camus' The Stranger, an Existential classic.

While this novel delivers, as the title suggests, the story of the convict in the New Testament who is freed instead of Jesus, it is unlike most novels set in biblical times. The author has no interest in dazzling us with detail. It is a short novel and an understated one. Written just after World War Two, it is clearly about modern man, but the author doesn't trumpet this. Because it's so uncluttered, it sticks in your mind. It's an archetypal example of naturalism. A cinematic equivalent would be Ingmar Bergmann's THE SEVENTH SEAL.

This book takes a look at the time after Jesus Christ has been crucified through the eyes of the man who was to be in his place; Barabbas. Lagerkvist does an exellent job revealing the true person that Barabbas is underneath hard gruff shell this character puts up for everyone to see. The only hard part is following the spoken words of the characters considering there are no quotation marks used in this novel. Other than that it is a very interesting read for anyone to read.

The Bible mentions how Barabbas was released when he was scheduled to be crucified, when the people could have chosen for Christ to be set free. What the Bible doesn't talk about is what Barabbas did and how the experiece of being set free as opposed to Christ affected him. This book makes that speculation. It also shows that Christ was thought a fraud by many--most were just plain scared of someone with the audacity to walk around claiming to be God's son. The book reveals the complications in having faith in the Christian religion and questions the judgement of those with faith.

Barabbas tells the tale of the common thief who was acquitted in place of Jesus Christ. Its palm is always open to catch what the New Testament, concerned with larger matters, lets drop. If such tales strike you as literary opportunism, a grab after ready-made thematic power, you're not alone. But it's probably best to approach this material with an open heart and mind.

The common thief turns out to be, of course, not so common. The narrative combines a bare-but-exalted prose style with grubbily realistic impressions of the era as it details his encounters with the Christians, who are refreshingly presented here in their first incarnation as a minor cult suffering under society's bewilderment and persecution. There are some wonderfully sensory scenes in slave quarters and echoing Christian catacombs, as well as thrilling "eyewitness" accounts of legendary figures like Lazarus.

Barabbas literally has given up relation to his own father (I won't reveal more), and has no son--therefore, the "holy ghost" is all he has, or might have, as an intimate anchor in the male-dominated society of the time period.

People who recommend this book do so with emphasis, and now I think I understand. It allows for spiritual absorption without an embrace of unseemly religious dogma. It's a book for everyone--for the religious, for the closeted religious, for the agnostic, for the atheist, even for the closeted atheist. It studies spirituality not from a position of certainty but from the position of human need.

All of us need to believe in something, and to belong to something, whether or not we acknowledge these needs. Lagerkvist's tale examines the human need to believe in something, and the profound isolation can that result from refusing to join any clan.

From a theological standpoint this makes Barabbas curiously versatile: its frightening parable of unbelief will keep the believers believing, while its compassion for the unbeliever, the lone mind, will resonate with society's "outsider." And reading folks, even religious ones, habitually enter the mode of "the observer" and therefore, on some level, will identify with the isolated mind of this fictional outsider.

Non-believers, however, may not be won over by descriptions of the Christ as "pale-skinned" and characters as blue-eyed, et cetera, when this clearly flies in the face of all historical evidence, and is the result of centuries of great European art that has unwittingly (and sometimes wittingly) acted as cultural propaganda. Also, Lagerkvist's depiction of Christ as slim-bodied, weak and fragile of frame, while endearing, directly contradicts the gospels' testimonial of his supposed lifelong occupation as a carpenter. How could Lagerkvist's Christ have angrily driven thieves from the temple? These flaws would matter less if the novel didn't seem to pride itself, like Gibson's Passion, on its gritty historical verisimilitude.

Your ability to lose yourself in the novella will also depend on your tolerance for lofty-sounding biblical phrases--which I have always found beautiful in a reasonable context--and for what I would argue are less successful attempts at evoking mystical or mysterious states of mind through the forced overuse of ellipses: "Strange... he had never felt that before... strange..." You get the idea.

I recommend Barabbas as an absorbing, even fascinating, but not particularly satisfying reading experience. At every turn the narrative stubbornly refuses to provide answers, favoring bleak existential mysteries over meat-and-potatoes resolutions. But the spare "parable" format only made this reader long for a clearer conclusion and for a clearer "message." Perhaps it's unfair to say that it reads more like a skillful literary exercise than as a story that needed to be told. But it takes some restraint not to respond to its existential "what if?" with a big non-existential "so what?"