The Two Popes ✝️

By Anthony McCarten.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

“Sin is a wound, not a stain. It needs to be treated, healed”.

As someone who is not Catholic and has never taken a particular interest in the inner workings of the Vatican, I came to The Two Popes purely out of curiosity, prompted by the recent death of Pope Francis and the renewed interest in the Conclave.

I had watched the film adaptation beforehand, which turned out to be a wise move, as it provided much-needed context and visual framing that helped me navigate the dense and somewhat fragmented narrative of the book.

Anthony McCarten’s The Two Popes is a fascinating account of two vastly different men who have each held one of the most powerful positions in the world.

At its heart, the book offers a comparative study of Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI) and Jorge Bergoglio (Pope Francis), from their early lives under oppressive regimes to their deeply contrasting worldviews and approaches to leadership. McCarten has clearly done his research, and he doesn’t shy away from uncomfortable truths, particularly regarding the darker moments in both men’s pasts.

Benedict comes across as a distant, reserved figure whose scholarly life seems to have created a barrier between him and the wider world. His resignation, a historical anomaly, is painted as both a failure of leadership and an act of self-preservation.

By contrast, Francis is depicted as a man shaped by poverty and violence, whose flaws are more human and, therefore, easier to forgive. His involvement during Argentina’s Dirty War is handled with care, reflecting the complexity of his actions.

However, the book’s structure leaves much to be desired. It jumps back and forth between timelines and perspectives in a way that feels disorganised rather than deliberate. For a reader like me, who is quite new to this subject matter, it was often difficult to follow.

The writing is heavy on facts and detail, which, while impressive, made the reading experience feel more academic than engaging. I found myself wishing for a clearer narrative thread to hold everything together.

Despite these issues, McCarten’s attempt to humanise two very different Popes is commendable. He does not try to force symmetry where there is none and largely lets the men’s own actions speak for themselves. I came away with a deeper understanding of both figures.

Overall, The Two Popes is an informative but occasionally challenging read. While it may test the patience of some, there are many rewarding insights to be found within its pages.

I’m grateful I saw the film first, as it helped me to better visualise the people and places McCarten writes about.

This book will likely appeal more to those already familiar with Church history or deeply interested in the Vatican. For the casual reader, it may feel a little too much like a textbook with occasional moments of real significance.

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