At Play in the Fields of the Lord melds together a tapestry of themes that Matthiessen had previously woven through his earlier works. It revisits the blurred lines of political allegiance seen in Partisans (1955) and delves into the human search for acknowledgment and belonging as explored in Raditzer (1961). These themes are intertwined into a dense and captivating narrative. The story chronicles the ill-fated mission of the Martin Quarrier family as they venture into the untamed heart of the Peruvian jungle to evangelize the Niaruna Indians.

As their noble mission crumbles, so too do the ideals that propelled them forward. Matthiessen crafts a searing critique of the arrogant, self-satisfied evangelists and the false sense of cultural superiority that prompts the so-called "white man's burden." Yet, his narrative surpasses a simple sociological critique. In the oppressive heat of the South American wilderness, the social conventions that support the characters begin to evaporate. This transformative process shifts the novel's lens from examining cultural relativity to scrutinizing personal identity within that culture.

This narrative evolution occurs through a gradual redirection of focus from Martin Quarrier to Lewis Moon, who emerges as the novel’s pivotal figure. The reader is drawn into the depths of Moon's journey, which becomes the primary narrative thread, revealing the intricate interplay between individual identity and cultural milieu.

Moon, a man caught between worlds as a half-breed Cheyenne turned mercenary, finds himself at the volatile crossroads of clashing cultures. Cast aside by an American society that refuses to claim an "Injun," Moon adopts the life of an outlaw. Yet, destiny thrusts him into a harrowing dilemma: to obliterate the remnants of an Indian civilization he reveres, all to clear the path for the white culture he loathes. In a desperate bid to escape his torn past, he immerses himself among a primal tribe, embracing their language, customs, and beliefs as his own.

However, Moon's yearning to disappear into this newfound kinship is thwarted. His descent from the skies is heralded as a divine apparition, sealing his fate as a supposed savior and sowing discord among those he intends to protect. Ironically, Martin Quarrier's demise does not come at the hands of hostile natives but through the betrayal of "convert" Yoyo, itself a byproduct of white crusaders' influence. Moon's destiny, however, transcends irony into paradox.

Forced to enact his role as "savior," Moon must kill Aeore, the tribe's lone skeptic, whose fierce anger and keen-eyed suspicion mirror Moon's own inner turmoil. This act extinguishes not only the hope of preventing the inevitable clash of two hostile cultures—an endeavor both Quarrier and Moon pursued—but also the fragile sense of belonging to something greater. As the novel concludes, the reader is enveloped in the profound loneliness that follows the annihilation of community.

Critics were quick to draw parallels between "At Play in the Fields of the Lord" and the works of Joseph Conrad, noting the novel's thematic and atmospheric similarities to classics such as Nostromo and Heart of Darkness. These comparisons arise from the novel's exploration of encounters between Westerners and uncharted territories, reminiscent of Conrad's focus on European interactions with primitive societies and hostile environments. The novel is steeped in a Conradian gloom, its landscape dark and sullen, inhabited by characters who, much like Conrad's own, reflect the moral complexities and inner darkness faced within themselves.

At Play in the Fields of the Lord offers a nuanced portrayal of the Niaruna people, transcending the symbolic interpretations often found in literature akin to Conrad's work. The depiction of the Niaruna is crafted with the precision of an anthropologist and the admiration...