Drucker's first novel, The Last of All Possible Worlds (1982), was stately, static, but rich and intriguing too. This follow-up is a much slighter, clumsier effort: little more than an illustrated debate on the role of a Catholic university—along with a dubious sermonette about what can happen when someone gives in to "the temptation to do good." Father Heinz Zimmerman, president of St. Jerome U., is a longtime believer in the anti-parochial upgrading of Catholic education, proud of transforming St. Jerome into a top-Hight school that's only incidentally Catholic. Then, however, an incompetent faculty member is denied tenure; the teacher's wife lashes out at Father Heinz, arguing that her husband was dismissed because "he is a true Christian in a university that calls itself Catholic but is dominated by heretics and Jews, and unbelievers." Furthermore, the faculty-wife then accuses Father Heinz of immoral behavior with his devoted secretary (a handsome widow)—a false accusation which leads to rumors, tainted reputations, moral dilemmas for Father H. And even more of a brouhaha erupts when do-gooder Father Heinz, pitying the dismissed teacher, recommends him for a low-level job elsewhere: the anti-secular forces in the St. Jerome's faculty arise in fury about this meddling in departmental affairs by a priest-administrator. The upshot? Father Heinz becomes broody and disillusioned—unsure about the anti-parochial premise, doubting his own motives. Wanting to avoid escalating controversy, the St. Jerome's powers-that-be arrange for Father Heinz to be lured away to an attractive job in state government. And a promising young priest-administrator decides, after witnessing this teapot-tempest, to be a parish priest: "If I don't make it as a pastor, I'd rather go in as an executive with my father" in the supermarket biz. Some of these matters—the Catholic university debate, the priest/administrator role—are potentially interesting, well-suited to an essay. Here, however, in stiff morality-play form (deadly dialogues and internal monologues), the material is dull, occasionally confusing—and only for those with a passionate involvement in the specific issues here.