It is supposed to be a sign of emotional maturity to be able to laugh at oneself. If that is so, then this hilarious little book proves beyond a doubt that American Catholicism is finally of age. Using the dangerous and delicate weapon of parody, Mr. Bellairs punctures some of the most revered balloons of vigil-light Catholicism -- the glorious saint who had everything except historical existence, liturgical art that is neither the former nor the latter, etc. -- and offers such masterpieces of Catholic high-camp as Prayer for the Speedy Demise of a Bishop: "O God, who dost daily sweep Thine Eternal Dwellings, grant that the soul of the superflous N. may be sucked up into the Dustbag of Bliss, where spinning motes circle ever before Thy Throne." This is definitely not a book for that shockable little-old-lady-in-Dubuque, but it will delight the hearts and minds of everyone who believes that there is room for laughter in our Father's house.