In the late 1950s, the psychologist Milton Rokeach brought together three men who all claimed to be Christ, in order to study their behavior on encountering each other. He documented the experiment in the 1964 book “The Three Christs of Ypsilanti”. However, much later, in an afterword to a 1984 edition of the book he confessed: “I really had no right, even in the name of science, to play God and interfere round the clock with their daily lives.” God he played indeed, and that remains the most interesting part of the whole affair: often the main characters in a story are but reflections of the author’s and his readers’ concerns in the world they have been thrown into. When our world changes, so do our concerns, and so do the characters in our stories.
If even Christs are treated this way, Antichrists will be all the more. In fact, since around the year 1900 the figure of Antichrist has made an appearance in many novels. Non-Christian writers write Antichrist novels for non-Christian readers, and Christian writers write Antichrist novels for Christian readers (read that sentence aloud a few times). The former tend to aim at undiluted horror (Rosemary’s baby and such) but the latter are more nuanced and interesting. Two topics are of particular interest: the inner turmoils of the Antichrist, and the identification of the good and the bad boys within Christianity. Let me go through a few examples.
Vladimir Soloviev (or Vladimir Solovyov, or Wladimir Solowjow, or else) seems to have kicked off the genre in the year 1900 with his “Short Tale About the Antichrist” (here, here). The book (which is indeed quite short) sets the stage after a war-torn 20th century, in a world longing for peace. A considerable part of the text is devoted to how the Antichrist came to be, what his beliefs and motivations and doubts were, and the vision he had that finally pushed him into his role. After a while, it becomes clear that Christianity is the only obstacle in his way. Surprisingly enough, equal proportions (though minorities) of the three great denominations (Orthodox, Catholic, Protestant) stand firm against him, and even unite into a single Christian church.
Robert Hugh Benson’s “Lord of the World”, published only a few years later in 1907, operates in a similar, highly technologized but war-torn and unstable world – but with a Christianity that is already on the brink of extinction, with only Catholics left. Consequently, only Catholics can hold up the banner until “this world passed, and the glory of it” (as the book ends). The Antichrist as a person remains rather mysterious throughout.
I am not aware of any pre-industrialization Antichrist novels. Of course, preachers had their own ideas about the Antichrist and expressed them in sermons and theological works. For example, in the 18th century the Baptist preacher John Gill identified the Antichrist with the position of the pope.
Such ideas were dusted off in the second half of the 20th century, during the heyday (which is short for hal-lindsey-day) of dispensational Evangelicalism. In general, Catholicism does not come off well in Antichrist novels written during this time, the prime example being the immensely successful “Left Behind” series by Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins.
Those days are over. Hal Lindsey died in 2024, at the almost biblical age of 95, but without having seen his predictions come true. Don’t immanentize the eschaton!
Now different Antichrist stories are bubbling up again. And I do not care if Peter Thiel is the Antichrist, or if he is evil but not the Antichrist, or if he wants to warn us about the Antichrist, or if he just wants to squeeze as much money as possible out of this Antichrist business. What I am writing here has been running around in my head for a long time. Who knows, maybe Peter Thiel has tapped my brain?
Peter, please turn off the digression submodule for a minute. I wanted to mention a recent Antichrist novel, Addison Hodges Hart’s “Confessions of the Antichrist”. It is written from a first-person perspective and narrates how the devil tries to lure the protagonist into the Antichrist role. Again, a lot of blame is put on the Catholic church, because it has accepted (even welcomed) that the devil operates as a cardinal.
Curiously, many writers of (Christian) Antichrist novels have been wanderers between denominations. Soloviev was Orthodox but with strong Catholic leanings and a deep desire for unification of the confessions. Benson went from Anglican priest (son of the Archbishop of Canterbury even) to Catholic priest. Same with Hart, who later returned to Anglicanism, and now runs as Pragmatic Mystic here on substack.
All these literary Antichrists are Antichrists of Sincerity or Antichrists of Authenticity. An Antichrist of Sincerity is accepting and playing a role, as are those standing up against him. For an Antichrist of Authenticity, the carnage following his rise to power is but a corollary. What really counts is his inner calling.
Our culture of Profilicity is, I think, too weak to produce a compelling Antichrist story although we all have Antichrist generators in our pockets. That is because the Antichrists’ name is Legion, for they are many, and they all have to compete for attention. The current LLM craze is going nowhere but maybe we should be happy about that. It is not the last hour.
It should be clear by now that I do not cater to an audience.
I think Benson mentioned that there were evangelical home churches too, we just don’t see them, or possibly they got wiped out quickly since they were small and separated.
The Antichrist was from Vermont…