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Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt: A Novel
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Item description for Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt: A Novel by Anne Rice...
Overview
A novel by the author of Interview with the Vampire incorporates the latest New Testament scholarship to chronicle the life of Jesus Christ, from his early years, through his ministry, through his final days, crucifixion, resurrection, and ascent to heaven. Reprint. 40,000 first printing.
Publishers Description
Having completed the two cycles of legend to which she has devoted her career so far, Anne Rice gives us now her most ambitious and courageous book, a novel about the early years of CHRIST THE LORD, based on the Gospels and on the most respected New Testament scholarship.
The book's power derives from the passion its author brings to the writing and the way in which she summons up the voice, the presence, the words of Jesus who tells the story.
From the Hardcover edition.
Praise for Christ the Lord
“Riveting. . . . Rice's book is a triumph of tone -- her prose lean, lyrical, vivid -- and character. As he ponders his staggering responsibility, the boy is fully believable -- and yet there's something in his supernatural empathy and blazing intelligence that conveys the wondrousness of a boy like no other. . . . With this novel, she has indeed found a convincing version of him; this is fiction that transcends story and instead qualifies as an act of faith. Joins Nikos Kazantzakis's The Last Temptation of Christ and Endo's A Life of Jesus as one of the bolder re-tellings.”
—Kirkus Reviews (starred)
Praise for Blood Canticle
“When Anne Rice releases a new book in The Vampire Chronicles series, cheers from her huge fan base can be heard everywhere.”
—The Edmonton Journal
From the Hardcover edition.
Anne Rice is the author of twenty-six books. She lives in La Jolla, California.
From the Hardcover edition.
I was seven years old. What do you know when you're seven years old? All my life, or so I thought, we'd been in the city of Alexandria, in the Street of the Carpenters, with the other Galileans, and sooner or later we were going home.
Late afternoon. We were playing, my gang against his, and when he ran at me again, bully that he was, bigger than me, and catching me off balance, I felt the power go out of me as I shouted: “You'll never get where you're going.”
He fell down white in the sandy earth, and they all crowded around him. The sun was hot and my chest was heaving as I looked at him. He was so limp.
In the snap of two fingers everyone drew back. It seemed the whole street went quiet except for the carpenters' hammers. I'd never heard such a quiet.
“He's dead!” Little Joseph said. And then they all took it up. “He's dead, he's dead, he's dead.”
I knew it was true. He was a bundle of arms and legs in the beaten dust.
And I was empty. The power had taken everything with it, all gone.
His mother came out of the house, and her scream went up the walls into a howl. From everywhere the women came running.
My mother lifted me off my feet. She carried me down the street and through the courtyard and into the dark of our house. All my cousins crowded in with us, and James, my big brother, pulled the curtain shut. He turned his back on the light. He said:
“Jesus did it. He killed him.” He was afraid.
“Don't you say such a thing!” said my mother. She clutched me so close to her, I could scarcely breathe.
Big Joseph woke up.
Now Big Joseph was my father, because he was married to my mother, but I'd never called him Father. I'd been taught to call him Joseph. I didn't know why.
He'd been asleep on the mat. We'd worked all day on a job in Philo's house, and he and the rest of the men had lain down in the heat of the afternoon to sleep. He climbed to his feet.
“What's that shouting outside?” he asked. “What's happened?”
He looked to James. James was his eldest son. James was the son of a wife who had died before Joseph married my mother.
James said it again.
“Jesus killed Eleazer. Jesus cursed him and he fell down dead.”
Joseph stared at me, his face still blank from sleep. There was more and more shouting in the street. He rose to his feet, and ran his hands back through his thick curly hair.
My little cousins were slipping through the door one by one and crowding around us.
My mother was trembling. “He couldn't have done it,” she said. “He wouldn't do such a thing.”
“I saw it,” said James. “I saw it when he made the sparrows out of clay on the Sabbath. The teacher told him he shouldn't do such things on the Sabbath. Jesus looked at the birds and they turned into real birds. They flew away. You saw it too. He killed Eleazer, Mother, I saw it.”
My cousins made a ring of white faces in the shadows: Little Joses, Judas, and Little Symeon and Salome, watching anxiously, afraid of being sent out. Salome was my age, and my dearest and closest. Salome was like my sister.
Then in came my mother's brother Cleopas, always the talker, who was the father of these cousins, except for Big Silas who came in now, a boy older than James. He went into the corner, and then came his brother, Justus, and both wanted to see what was going on.
“Joseph, they're all out there,” said Cleopas, “Jonathan bar Zakkai, and his brothers, they're saying Jesus killed their boy. They're envious that we got that job at Philo's house, they're envious that we got the other job before that, they're envious that we're getting more and more jobs, they're so sure they do things better than we do—.”
“Is the boy dead?” Joseph said. “Or is the boy alive?”
Salome shot forward and whispered in my ear. “Just make him come alive, Jesus, the way you made the birds come alive!”
Little Symeon was giggling. He was too little to know what was going on. Little Judas knew, but he was quiet.
“Stop,” said James, the little boss of the children. “Salome, be quiet.”
I could hear them shouting in the street. I heard other noises. Stones were hitting the walls of the house. My mother started to cry.
“You dare do that!” shouted my uncle Cleopas and he rushed back out through the door. Joseph went after him.
I wriggled out of my mother's grasp and darted out before she could catch me, and past my uncle and Joseph and right into the crowd as they were all waving and hollering and shaking their fists. I went so fast, they didn't even see me. I was like a fish in the river. I moved in and out through people who were shouting over my head until I got to Eleazer's house.
The women all had their backs to the door, and they didn't see me as I went around the edge of the room.
I went right into the dark room, where they'd laid him on the mat. His mother was there leaning on her sister and sobbing.
There was only one lamp, very weak.
Eleazer was pale with his arms at his sides, same soiled tunic, and the soles of his feet very black. He was dead. His mouth was open and his white teeth showed over his lip.
The Greek physician came in—he was really a Jew—and he knelt down, and he looked at Eleazer and he shook his head.
Then he saw me and said:
“Out.”
His mother turned and she saw it was me and she screamed.
I bent over him:
“Wake up, Eleazer,” I said. “Wake up now.”
I reached out and laid my hand on his forehead.
The power went out. My eyes closed. I was dizzy. But I heard him draw in his breath.
His mother screamed over and over and it hurt my ears. Her sister screamed. All the women were screaming.
I fell back on the floor. I was weak. The Greek physician was staring down at me. I was sick. The room was dim. Other people had rushed in.
Eleazer came up, and he was up all knees and fists before anyone could get to him, and he set on me and punched me and hit me, and knocked my head back against the ground, and kicked me again and again:
“Son of David, Son of David!” he shouted, mocking me, “Son of David, Son of David!” kicking me in the face, and in the ribs, until his father grabbed him around the waist and picked him up in the air.
I ached all over, couldn't breathe.
“Son of David!” Eleazer kept shouting.
Someone lifted me and carried me out of the house and into the crowd in the street. I was still gasping. I hurt all over. It seemed the whole street was screaming, worse than before, and someone said the Teacher was coming, and my uncle Cleopas was yelling in Greek at Jonathan, Eleazer's father, and Jonathan was yelling back, and Eleazer was shouting, “Son of David, Son of David!”
I was in Joseph's arms. He was trying to move, but the crowd wouldn't let him. Cleopas was pushing at Eleazer's father. Eleazer's father was trying to get at Cleopas, but other men took hold of his arms. I heard Eleazer shouting far away.
There was the Teacher declaring: “That child's not dead, you hush up, Eleazer, who said he was dead? Eleazer, stop shouting! Whoever could think this child is dead?”
“Brought him back to life, that's what he did,” said one of theirs.
We were in our courtyard, the entire crowd had pushed in with us, my uncle and Eleazer's people still screaming at each other, and the Teacher demanding order.
Now my uncles, Alphaeus and Simon, had come. These were Joseph's brothers. And they'd just woken up. They put up their hands against the crowd. Their mouths were hard and their eyes were big.
My aunts, Salome and Esther and Mary, were there, with all the cousins running and jumping as if this were a festival, except for Silas and Justus and James who stood with the men.
Then I couldn't see anymore.
I was in my mother's arms, and she had taken me into the front room. It was dark. Aunt Esther and Aunt Salome came in with her. I could hear stones hitting the house again. The Teacher raised his voice in Greek.
“There's blood on your face!” my mother whispered. “Your eye, there's blood. Your face is cut!” She was crying. “Oh, look what's happened to you,” she said. She spoke in Aramaic, our tongue which we didn't speak very much.
“I'm not hurt,” I said. I meant to say it didn't matter. Again my cousins pressed close, Salome smiling as if to say she knew I could bring him back to life, and I took her hand and squeezed it.
But there was James with his hard look.
The Teacher came into the room backwards with his hands up. Someone ripped the curtain away and the light was very bright. Joseph and his brothers came in. And so did Cleopas. All of us had to move to make room.
“You're talking about Joseph and Cleopas and Alphaeus, what do you mean drive them out!” said the Teacher to the whole crowd. “They've been with us for seven years!”
The angry family of Eleazer came almost into the room. The father himself did come into the room.
“Yes, seven years and why don't they go back to Galilee, all of them!” Eleazer's father shouted. “Seven years is too long! That boy is possessed of a demon and I tell you my son was dead!”
“Are you complaining that he's alive now! What's the matter with you!” demanded my uncle Cleopas.
From the Hardcover edition. |
Item Specifications...
Studio: Ballantine Books
Pages 384
Dimensions: Length: 1" Width: 5.25" Height: 8.25"
Weight: 0.6 lbs.
Binding Softcover
Release Date Feb 26, 2008
Publisher Ballantine Books
Series Christ The Lord
Series Number 1
ISBN 0345492730
ISBN13 9780345492739
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Availability 2 units.
Availability accurate as of May 23, 2012 02:00.
Usually ships within one to two business days from Johnson City, TN.
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Reviews - What do customers think about Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt: A Novel?
 | A Worthwhile Read Jul 5, 2007 |
I've been a fan of Anne Rice since a classmate recommended "Lasher" to me over 10 years ago. Since then, I've read most of her books. One thing I've always found remarkable is her ability to develop living, breathing characters. That talent makes a strong appearance in "Out of Egypt", but not in the same way as in her other books. What I've always found to be compelling about her characters is their complexity and their abundant self contradictions. this is what make them appear so human. With Jesus Christ as the main character, those contradictions do not come quite so easily. Her talent is apparent in the misleadingly simple descriptions of Christ's family members - as one takes a moment to consider the 7-year-old's descriptions of the people around him, one realizes that much can be inferred and interpreted from his words. However, when it comes to Christ's own character, the lack of complexity was slightly disappointing to me. This is Jesus Christ we're talking about here - he is good, and does not find it hard to be so. In the end, his moral certainty takes away some of his humanity, which I think is counter to Rice's goal. Christ's character keeps making me think of "Memnoch the Devil" and Memnoch's issue with God becoming a man: it seems he never truly experienced what it is to be human. Sure, Christ experiences confusion and fear at times, but there aren't really any signs of doubt or weakness.
While "Out of Egypt" isn't my favorite Anne Rice book, it is definitely one I would recommend. The perspective on young Christ is unique, interesting, and extremely though-provoking. Despite my issues with the character of Christ, the writing is definitely on par with my high expectations of Rice. The large amount of research she put in is apparent in her fine attention to detail, even to those of us who lack the expertise and time to verify every point.
I look forward to reading the rest of the books in the series with the hope that the image of Christ will become easier for me to relate to as an imperfect human. | | |  | Christ the Lord Out of Egypt Jul 3, 2007 |
| Our book club read this book, and I got my copy out of the library. It is such a wonderful book, I felt as if I were there. I made me know the possibility of Jesus as a child reacting to His self-awareness in such a manner. I bought the book just so that I could re-read it whenever I wanted. | | | | Normal Childhood? Jun 28, 2007 |
| There were quite a few things in this book that stuck out as thoughts I had never envisioned. In college I had spent some time thinking of what Jesus was like as a child. This occurred about the time that a religion class introduced me to the Apocrypha. I remember discussing the possibility of Jesus killing a child and bringing them back to life. So, it amazes that Jesus possibly had to go through childhood. Maybe I am confusing the Trinity again, but why would God in human form have to go through a period of discovering who He is. It does make Him more human. The other point that I find interesting is how His family struggled to hide Jesus' miraculous birth from him. What is Joseph's purpose in concealing the facts from Him? These both show that Jesus cannot handle his powers until he has come of age and understood Jewish teachings. | | | | Fiction gives color to history Jun 21, 2007 |
Between the Gospel accounts of Jesus' birth and his twelfth year there is a huge blank space in what we know about Him. Using history, fable, and a lot of imagination Anne Rice has filled in that blank with a fascinating look at what Jesus might have been like as a little boy.
The book opens with Jesus living with his parents, brother James, and extended family in Alexandria, Egypt. Mysterious things are happening around him that make him think he is not like the other kids. There are whispers of terrible things that made his family have to leave Bethlehem, where he was born, in a hurry. There are whispers that his birth was unusual and his parents never speak of it.
In "Christ Our Lord: Out of Egypt" we follow Jesus the boy as he tells of his family's journey from Egypt back to his parents' home town of Nazareth. Mrs. Rice takes us through a turbulant and meticulously researched Palestine of the first century to shed light on the context that makes Jesus' life so amazing and important to everyone who came after him. The story drags a little in places, but the inner turmoil of a boy who is God and doesn't know it and parents who struggle to raise a son who is destined to save His people in the face of enemies who would kill him makes the book compelling. This is fiction and there are things in this book that are not found in the pages of the bible, but it is definitely worth reading for a more vivid portrait of the man who is the center of history. | | | | kind of like the vampire ones Jun 17, 2007 |
| i wasnt sure what to expect with anne rice being christianish now, but the book was good. it was like reading one of her vampire novels, only instead of drinking blood, the main character can heal or kill things. it is missing the eroticism. but other than that, a usual anne rice book, which means it's of course excellent. | | | Write your own review about Christ the Lord: Out of Egypt: A Novel
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