The Devils Advocate

The Devil’s Advocate (1959) – Morris West
Heinemann | ISBN: none (too classy for numbers)
Condition: Good (with a gentle, lived-in curve)
Offered by: Crappy Old Books

Here we have The Devil’s Advocate, Morris West’s classic Vatican-and-conscience drama from 1959 – the sort of novel in which people wrestle with faith, morality and politics while wearing proper suits and never once checking their phones.

This is the Heinemann hardback, from that era when modern fiction came in sensible cloth, and the most controversial thing about a book was what was going on inside it, not the dust jacket blurb.

The story, roughly and respectfully

Inside, you get:

• A dying English priest sent to a poor, sun-scorched Italian village to argue against the canonisation of a local “saint”.

• Vatican politics, local secrets, and the awkward realisation that holiness, humanity and hypocrisy all like to hang around in the same room.

• Lots of moral grey areas, soul-searching conversations and the occasional moment where you, a modern reader, think: “Ah yes, organised religion and complicated human beings. Nothing could possibly go wrong.”

It’s one of those mid-century novels that manages to be both very Catholic and very universal, which is quite a trick.

The physical confession

Now, about the copy itself.

• Condition: Good – genuinely good, not code for “held together with prayers and a rubber band”. The pages are all there. They’re not falling out. You can read it without needing a support crew.

• However, this particular volume has a slight curvature – as if it has spent some years at the bottom of a pile of crap (papers, other books, possibly an ornamental vase and last year’s phone bill).

• The curve is subtle, not wild. We’re talking “gentle bend” rather than “banana in crisis”.

• Importantly, it will sit straight on a shelf, and there’s a fair chance it will gradually flatten out over time, especially if granted the dignity of vertical storage instead of being used as a structural support for household clutter.

So yes, the curvature does slightly detract from its pristine collectable status. If you’re the kind of collector who wears cotton gloves and says “Near Fine” with a tremor in your voice, this may not be The One.

If, however, you prefer a book that looks like it has actually lived in a house, rather than a vacuum-sealed vault, you’re fine.

Readability and vibe

• Perfectly readable – no issues there. The text is clear, the binding sound, nothing flaking away in horror at your touch.

• The curve adds a faint air of mid-century domestic realism: this is the sort of book that might once have sat on a bedside table next to a glass of water and a pair of reading glasses, before being nudged into a stack and forgotten for a decade.

• It has that quiet, respectable presence of a book that has survived both time and questionable storage decisions.

On the shelf, it says:

“I am a serious novel about faith, doubt and human frailty.”

Up close, it quietly adds:

“…and I’ve probably been under a phone directory since 1987.”

Ideal for:

• Readers who like theological and moral drama without needing explosions.

• People who enjoy that late-50s literary tone: thoughtful, slightly austere, and very sure cigarettes are an acceptable narrative accessory.

• Book lovers who don’t mind a little wonkiness in their physical copies, especially when the words themselves are perfectly intact.

• Anyone who appreciates the poetic irony of a novel about spiritual strain being physically… gently strained.

Offered by Crappy Old Books, where some volumes are slightly bent, none are spiritually perfect, and all of them are still very much worth reading.

Keep browsing: See more Thrillers books Other books by Morris West