The Catholic priest and the Communist mayor, both fallen out of favour, one of his Superior's, another one of the electorate - taking it on the road in the same car. The beauty of the book is in that it is framed into a rich background of Cervantes's novel Don Quixote.
The Monsignor takes himself as a descendant of Don Quixote, and the Mayor agrees to be called Sancho. Even their car is named Rocinante after the Quixote's horse. Of course they bump into all kinds of windmills as they go along. But most interesting to me are the dialogs where the characters check their ideals against those of their adversary.
They both reveal some doubts and some intolerance, but some tolerance as well. The case of red wine they carried in the back of their Rocinante could sometimes be a helper, sometimes a topic of discussion and once a blasphemy.
Whether you prefer hammer and sickle or the cross, you get to enjoy the Monsignor Quixote.
