In the medieval city of Hagenburg, Germany, the ruling class of Bishops and clerics unearths a plan to build an enormous Cathedral unlike any in the region. Lofty and awe-inspiring, the Cathedral will rise above the city as a testament to the glory of God and the might of the noble men who sponsor it. In a novel as grand as the Cathedral itself, Ben Hopkins writes the tragic stories of several people, from chambermaids to government officials, whose fates are intertwined with the Cathedral and the shifting social currents of the city.
I must begin my review by admitting that reading this novel probably took me about as long as it took to build the Hagenburg Cathedral from the ground up. This is due in large part to the busy turn that my life as taken recently, but it is worth mentioning that reading Cathedral involves a substantial commitment on the reader’s part.
While many historical fiction novels focus on one person or event as a microcosm of a broader period in history, Hopkins aims to explore concepts of faith and power from multiple perspectives over the course of several decades. Viewing the same conflicts, events, and time periods through the eyes of characters with wildly different backgrounds and motivations is enlightening, but do keep in mind that it takes time and patience to develop a bond with the characters and see how their lives are connected. If you prefer to meet one or two characters at a time and you are not interested in reading a book that covers a very long time period, Cathedral is not for you.
Length and reading duration aside, I found Hopkins’s character writing to be absolutely outstanding. A writer who can cast a net wide enough to cover a whole spectrum of social classes and personalities, weaving each character into the tapestry of an overarching narrative, is a talented writer indeed. We meet people such as:
- Rettich Schäffer, a shepherd boy and wood carver who comes to Hagenburg aspiring to join the Cathedral construction effort as an architect.
- Grete Gerber, the wife of a corrupt trader who positions herself as a ruthless champion of the mercantile class and becomes the wealthiest woman in Hagenburg.
- Yudl Rosheimer, a Jewish resident of Hagenburg who must make a bold choice between a secluded life devoted to religious scholarship and a risky life devoted to business and commerce.
- Elise, a young woman from a Pagan family who loses her father and sister to a cruel inquisition and spends the remainder of her life surviving as a servant in wealthy houses.
- Eugenius von Zabern (my personal favorite), who begins the novel as a hawk-eyed, scheming government treasurer and ends the novel as a blind, yet wise Bishop.
I found it impossible to “like” any of the aforementioned characters, yet I found it impossible not to empathize with them and learn from their misfortunes. Each of them wants money, power, stability, or some combination thereof, but the duplicity of fortune and the passage of time leave them unable to achieve their goals. All the while, the great Hagenburg Cathedral looms in the background: a beacon of hope for those like Rettich, an abomination to those like Yudl, and overall an ambitious project that is never quite finished. Of the long chain of master architects who must bear the brunt of the Cathedral’s endless construction, Hopkins writes:
The Cathedral never conquers the earth, though. Like the hopes and dreams of the people who have a stake in its construction, the Cathedral is an ideal too perfect to achieve. While it is an incredible technological feat, with a design that resists the pull of gravity and intricate sculptures that tell the stories of the Bible, the Cathedral is ultimately fragile. Its construction is subject to the whims of whoever is in power.
There is much to unpack in the volatile political currents surrounding the Cathedral, as well. Conflicts ebb and flow: noble house against noble house, clergy against merchants, nobles against commoners. The winds of luck blow in unpredictable directions, and the tables turn on characters who seem to be ascending politically, socially, and economically. We are left with striking images of the characters embroiled in the conflicts on their deathbeds, reflecting upon the lessons they’ve learned throughout their lives and the legacies they are leaving behind. In this way, Cathedral is not just a historical fiction novel, but a mediation on the myriad lessons that history can teach us.
As she fades into oblivion, the elderly Grete Gerber reflects on her legacy as a sponsor of the Cathedral:
At the end of the day, perhaps there is no monument that can unify a divided public; no beautiful concession that can keep the rich and influential in power and the poor masses in a state of submission. Perhaps the world is a brutal game of “everyone for themselves,” and perhaps no grand architectural accomplishment can bake a sense of pride and community into a place damaged by war and political scheming.
Or perhaps all of these speculations are wrong, and even though people do what they have to do to survive, they still want to leave behind a legacy of good. By pitting deeply fallible characters against seemingly infallible values—Trust, Faith, Hope, Loyalty—Hopkins asks his readers to consider how individuals, communities, societies, and nations adapt to changing circumstances over time.