The Magic Christian by Terry Southern
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Grace & Favour

The German economic sociologist, Max Weber, wrote The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism in 1905. It is one of the most important studies of Western culture in the 20th century. In it Weber contends that the attitudes of individual responsibility and disciplined industry which are essential to modern society are the product of the Protestant, particularly the Calvinist, revolution of the 16th century. In brief, his claim is that Capitalism is an evolutionary result of Christianity. On the face of it, this interpretation might seem unlikely given the contradictions between the capitalist and Christian ethics. But that hasn’t stopped either academics or the general public from accepting Weber’s conclusion as reasonable.

A key component of Weber’s thought is the idea of grace. In Calvinism, grace is an entirely unmerited gift given by God arbitrarily to individual human beings. Grace cannot be earned only received gratefully. Although there is no way to know with certainty whether one has been the recipient of grace, the likelihood is that one’s material circumstances, that is one’s accumulated wealth, reflect one’s spiritual state. Material prosperity reflects divine favour. This view is embedded in the general culture (and consequently politics, cf. Trump) of much of the world’s population. It is particularly prevalent among those Evangelicals who follow the self-styled Prosperity Gospel (again cf. Trump and his supporters).

Terry Southern’s Magic Christian is a send-up of both Weber’s sociology of Capitalism and his Calvinist theology. The book’s protagonist, Guy Grand, is simultaneously a successful entrepreneurial billionaire (in 1959 dollars!) and the divine Holy Spirit of The Christian Trinity, who randomly dispenses largesse without any apparent rationale throughout the world (the book’s title refers to a ship, not to Grand, and is somewhat distracting). Grand is assisted in his mission by two maiden aunts, Agnes and Esther Edwards, who complete the Trinitarian dramatis personae (the first referring to Jesus as the Lamb of God, Angus Dei; the second is the Old Testament Jewish Queen of Persia and also refers to the near Easter deity Ishtar; Jonathan Edwards was the foremost American theologian of the 18th century).

But unlike conventional theological portrayals of the Spirit, Grand is a cosmic practical joker rather than spiritual enlivener. He acts like the unpredictable god Coyote, traditional among native Americans, or the Scandinavian Loki, the perennial trickster. Grand is likewise in it for the laughs. So when he tips a hot dog seller $500, or pays someone thousands to eat a traffic summons, or hires a workman to pound saltines into dust in the middle of Times Square, his lack of rationality is part of a larger aesthetic, namely his personal sense of humour. He likes to see how folk react. He’s an equal opportunity abuser.

Grand doesn’t restrict himself to dispensing his grace-filled wealth only to individuals. His best efforts are reserved for whole industries. From advertising, to cosmetics, to automobile manufacturing, he acquires companies, raises salaries, ruins the products, then pays off the employees and customers whose lives he has played with. This always “costs him a good bit to keep his own name clear.” But given the infinite store of grace (that is to say, wealth) available, money is never a constraint on the divine japes. No divine fingerprints are anywhere to be found. The Spirit remains anonymous. And although he is present at his best performances, no one even knows what he looks like.

Yet there is a method in Grand’s apparent madness. He makes this clear in a pep talk to the staff of one of the companies he is about to destroy:

“... a couple of consumer principles we can kick around here at conference: one, the insatiate craving of the public for an absolute; and two, the modern failure of monotheism—that is to say, the failure of the notion that any absolute can be presented as one separate thing.”

In other words, there is indeed an inherent contradiction within modern consumer society: the failure to deal adequately with the necessity for contradiction.

And Grand has a Grand Plan, as it were, a sophisticated programme for addressing what is clearly a gap in the market:

“Monotheism is shot to pieces on the one hand—dire craving for an absolute existing on the other. I submit to you staffers that the solution establishes itself before our very eyes: namely, that an absolute—in any particular field—must be presented as a dichotomy!... Now what we want is one product which we can present in the two forms—good and evil, old and new, primitive and civilized—two items designed for the same use but presented as completely antithetical, both morally and philosophically—not aesthetically, however . . .”

Grand knows his market. Its most profound desire is to be subjugated but to call that subjugation freedom. The American aesthetic!

There we have it, the dichotomous condition of Capitalism and Christianity, separate and apparently incompatible, yet melded together seamlessly in modern American culture. The contradictions between the two - the material and the spiritual, rapacious competition and loving cooperation, this world and the next, subservience and independence - all assembled in one neat, easily available, reasonably priced package. Not just the best of all possible worlds, but also the most fun! At least for the divine Grand. What mega-church pastor could resist such a bonzo product line?

Magic Christian is 70 years old. But aside from the protagonist’s use of trains rather than planes to get around, it isn’t at all dated. Southern was a satirical genius (cf Dr. Strangelove). But he was also an educated one. His targets weren’t individuals, or countries, but an entire culture. This culture hasn’t changed much at all since 1959 except to become more of itself. As the protagonist says, “Grand’s the name, easy-green’s the game.” And so it remains... on Earth as it is in Heaven.

View all my reviews