Receiving yet another book about the Mark Hofmann affair is occasion for concern. What can be said that hasn't already been said? Why rehash the story, again and again? Hasn't the whole story been told?

Author Simon Worrall doesn't think so. And, to be honest, his approach really is a bit different from the various books that have come from the presses. Students of American literature will welcome this volume; Latter-day Saints may not be as excited.

Worrall begins his story, not in Salt Lake City, but on the east coast, in Amherst, Massachusetts, home of the Emily Dickinson Homestead. This seems like an odd place to begin, but maybe not so odd when you consider that Hofmann, by Worrall's count, forged the signatures and works of more than 130 people, Emily Dickinson among them. And it is the Dickinson forgery that leads Worrall on his journey from Amherst to Zion.

Chapters 1-4 of this book deal mainly with the Dickinson forgery. Dickinson, a recluse and virtually unpublished during her lifetime, left a corpus of work that represented only a fraction of her actual output. She had ordered letters and poems destroyed upon her death. The publication of a hitherto unknown poem would be a great discovery.

The story takes us, in some detail, from the "discovery" of the poem, through the machinations of Sotheby's auction house (who may have known it was a fake, but chose to present it as authentic), and finally to the disastrous uncovering of the fraud.

The forger, of course, was Mark Hofmann, son of devout Mormon parents, devoted husband and doting father. Worrall uses the Dickinson forgery as a springboard toward understanding Hofmann. What moved him to embark on a career of lying, cheating, stealing, and finally murder?

And here is where Mormon readers will blanch a bit. Worrall concludes that it is Hofmann's Mormonism that drives him. He presents Hofmann as a disillusioned returned missionary, a staggeringly bright young man who has come to believe that his religion, and his belief in the founder of that religion, are based upon lies and the rampant libido of its founder. This drives him to do whatever he can to disprove, and embarrass, the Mormon Church and the men who run it.

That Worrall would turn this into a psychobiography of Hofmann is not surprising, in that he relies heavily on Fawn Brodie's biography for his understanding of the Prophet. Coming into the discussion from this perspective, and lacking a fundamental understanding of the Mormon religion (as we shall see), the result is predictable and unfortunate. Worrall sees Hofmann's Mormonness as the *cause* of his aberrations. And to do this convincingly, he must present a caricature of Mormonism in place of an accurate depiction.

Selections from chapter five, "In the Land of Urim and Thummim," are illustrative of Worrall's approach to Mormonism, the Mormon people, and the Book of Mormon:

The Mormon God is a God of order. And business. Mormons, more than any other Americans, believe that it is a religious duty to make money. (p. 65)

Imagine a cross between Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" and the most long-winded sermon you have ever heard -- the phrase "and it came to pass" occurs more than 2000 times -- and you have the Book of Mormon. Mark Twain called it "chloroform in print." But to the poor, uneducated people who flocked to Joseph Smith's banner, it offered a reassuring illusion, and a history lesson. (p. 69)

Joseph Smith had what we would call today a sex addiction. (p. 71)

By 1844, Smith's megalomania had reached its apex. He announced that he would run for president. He declared himself "King, Priest, and Ruler over Israel on earth." (p. 73)

And so it goes. Other cites call Joseph Smith a liar, a cheat, a forger. One need not read very far to see Worrall superimposing his skewed view of Mormonism and its founder on to the person of Mark Hofmann, and thus providing a template for Hofmann's crimes.

His argument might be more convincing if he'd bothered to get some of the plain facts straight. Consider the following:

Polygamy was finally outlawed by the LDS church in 1890 under what is known as the Second Manifesto. (p. 89)

"Second" Manifesto? This, of course, was THE Manifesto; the Second Manifesto came decades later.

Athelia Call's [Hofmann's maternal grandmother] polygamous marriage had been officially sanctioned by the church but, because of the secrecy surrounding polygamy, had never been publicly acknowledged. In the Hofmann family the subject was taboo. A friend of Hofmann's grandmother had been excommunicated for talking about her own polygamous marriage, and Hofmann's mother, Lucille, refused to discuss the subject publicly, for fear of incurring a similar fate. (p. 89)

Huh? Being excommunicated for discussing one's polygamous past? I've never heard of it, and there is abundant evidence to the contrary.

In describing the lost 116 pages of the translation, he states:

Also known as the Book of Lehi, it was described by Joseph Smith as "the cornerstone of our religion." (p. 147)

Wasn't the entire Book of Mormon the "cornerstone of our religion"? Or was this cornerstone lost when the 116 pages were lost?

Some of the first words a Mormon child learns to repeat are, "I swear that the Book of Mormon is true." (p. 93)

What ward did Worrall attend where he heard *these* words?

Other indications of unfamiliarity are sprinkled throughout the book. Curt Bench, of Benchmark Books, is alternately "Kurt" and "Curt," on the same page! And Deseret Book is consistently called "Deseret Books." Big deal? Nope, except that no one who has spent any time honestly exploring Mormonism would have made this kind of mistake.

Some of his observations of Mormonism made me wonder whether I was just out of touch. For example:

The LDS church has always been discomfited by Smith's well-documented polygamous liaisons. And in recent years there had been an attempt to whitewash the record by suggesting that, at the end of his life, Smith had been in the process of abandoning polygamy. (p. 108)

Is this true? If so, I haven't heard about it.

At times he seems to enter into the minds of his subjects, in a way that presents his views as established history. For example, in his discussion of the apostasy of William McLellin, Worrall reports Joseph Smith's reported reasons for expelling McLellin. But then:

What Smith really hated was that McLellin had left the inner caucus of the early Mormon church with some deeply damaging insights into his former colleagues. (p. 192)

How can he possibly know what Joseph Smith *really* hated? I suggest he cannot know this, and ought not to present his view as fact.

Perhaps enough has been said on this subject to convince you that this book ought not to be used as a reliable reference to Mormonism or Joseph Smith.

But what of the rest of the book? Frankly, it's fascinating. As already mentioned, the first four chapters deal with the Dickinson forgery. And it is a fabulous story, well worth reading. Chapters five through nine take us into the heart of Worrall's faulty understanding of Mormonism, but intertwines some good history about Hofmann's production of the Anthon Transcript, the Salamander Letter, and others.

Worrall takes us through the steps necessary for producing a convincing forgery. We learn a bit about chemistry, inks, paper types, etc. This is not to mistake this volume for a handbook for the budding forger, but it does go to show just how painstaking the work was, and how dedicated Hofmann was to doing his best work. Interestingly, on page 85, Worrall credits lessons learned in BYU classes taught by Stephen Covey, and attended by Hofmann, for Hofmann's incredible work ethic. Given the wide circulation of the Covey books, I trust this was an isolated case.

The narrative takes us through the agonizing story of Hofmann's successful sales to the Church, the esteem in which he was held, the access granted to Church documents. And this is just what Hoffman wanted -- access to the leadership. He wanted to show everyone that they were just human after all.

When was this ever doubted? When did the prophetic calling ever guarantee perfection in every detail of life? Did Hofmann think that an anointed leader would also automatically be an art expert, a forgery detector? Do we not have sufficient evidence that the God allows leaders to make mistakes, if only to teach them larger lessons?

One need only recall that the 116 pages of the Book of Mormon were lost because the Lord permitted Joseph Smith to engage in an act of disobedience. And what of Israel's desire for a king, resulting in the anointing of Saul, who was a disaster in his rule over Israel? Was this not also the result of the Lord allowing His people to go against His will?

But readers may ask, given the above, how is it that the Church was fooled by Hofmann? Inspiration aside, how is it that they didn't immediately spot the forgeries? Worrall offers an explanation, and it merits consideration, both as a history lesson and as a caution:

The hunger for hype, combined with a captive clientele, has created the perfect environment for what Samuel T. Coleridge called, in a different context, the willing suspension of disbelief. This operates just as powerfully with the purchaser.

"There is an incredible desire on the part of people to believe that something they have published is real," Jennifer Larson ["a respected rare books dealer and former chairperson of the Ethics Committee of the Antiquarian Booksellers Association of America - page 47] said. "It is what you think you have and want to believe you have -- not what you really have -- that matters."

Mark Hofmann knew this too. He once said of his Mormon forgeries that they were documents he felt could have been part of Mormon history. He also said that deceiving people gave him a feeling of power. More than greed, this hunger for power -- the power to shape and change history -- seems to be ultimately what drove him. His forgeries found willing buyers because they told stories people wanted to hear. (p. 55)

And speaking of the Anthon Transcript, Hofmann's first work of Mormon forgery:

Hofmann knew that to do a complete forensic examination, part of the document would have to be destroyed. And he rightly assumed that the Church would not take such a drastic course of action, in case the Transcript was genuine. He also knew that forensic tests can never be conclusive. They can detect signs of forgery. They can never conclusively prove authenticity. He also rightly assumed that the Church's desire to believe in this faith-promoting document would be so great that they would not subject it to a rigorous examination. He was right. After examining it for four months the LDS's manuscript experts declared that the Anthon Transcript was genuine. (p. 101)

Is this correct? Was the Church's acceptance of the Anthon Transcript partly a result of wishful thinking? One really can't blame them -- what a find this was! And, to be fair, reasonable precautions were taken to ensure its authenticity. But, in the end, they were fooled. And to the degree that wishful thinking was a factor in their failure, the Church ought to exercise so much more caution, as it has since the Hofmann affair, when presented with such documents.

Chapter 10 lets us take a breath, as Worrall gives us an abbreviated history of forgery. It's not a new crime; it's been around a long time. Reading this chapter gave me a nice perspective on the topic.

The balance of the book takes us through Hofmann's financial troubles, the murders he committed to cover up his crimes, and his eventual conviction and imprisonment. It's a hair-raising tale of madness and desperation. It kept me reading into the night.

I was fascinated that Hofmann was so dedicated to his craft. His forgeries became so numerous, and so exotic -- many reaching into the roots of our nation, letters ascribed to Presidents and statesmen, to literary figures and other notables. And with each success, his hunger for fame and money deepened and grew, until he finally found himself at the vortex of a Ponzi scheme -- using investors' money to pay off other investors.

Before long he was facing bankruptcy, and worse. Suspicions grew, even his friends began to distrust him. And as the pressure grew, he finally resorted to murder, in an attempt to remove the one person who most threatened him, and then another murder to deflect attention from himself as a possible suspect.

I'm not entirely sure whether I should recommend this book. The problem is credibility. And in "The Poet and the Murderer," there are two levels of credibility to consider: the broad subject of forgery as an art and as a crime, and the specific case of Mark Hofmann and the role his Mormonism played in the development of his character.

As far as I can tell, Worrall really knows his stuff when it comes to forgeries and how they are produced. And he shows some facility with the Emily Dickinson story, which he returns to at the end of the book, to make these chapters worthwhile reading.

But he loses credibility when he enters into the world of Mormonism. The few examples I gave -- there were more, but the ones cited should suffice -- do not encourage us to believe his other statements about the Church, about Joseph Smith. His errors are not the kind made by a careful scholar, but rather the kind made by a man who decided that the subject wasn't really worth his time. It isn't just getting a date wrong here and there, but it's an overall sloppiness, a narrowness, that stains the discussion.

This credibility gap, in my opinion, undermines his central thesis sufficiently to wonder whether his motivation for writing this book should not be suspect. Did he write it to explore, explain and analyze Mark Hofmann and his forgeries? Or did he intend the book as a deconstruction of Mormonism as a religion, and Joseph Smith, as religious leader, in particular?

Worrall's tone is at times mocking; at other times, he borders on the malicious. He clearly wants his readers to know he doesn't buy any of the Mormon faith. Worrall sees the Mark Hofmann saga through agenda-colored glasses. How much of his telling of the story is distorted by this agenda? Seasoned Mormon readers will have no problem picking apart the good meat from the spoiled. But the general public will find Worrall's telling to be at least titillating, and worst deeply disturbing. And, sadly, it is likely to reinforce stereotypes that continue to circulate. Perhaps someone will do a thorough refutation of the Mormon chapters.

I'm glad to have the book. I've learned more about forgery as an art and a science from this book than from the other volumes I've read on the subject of Mark Hofmann. But relax, my talent is sufficiently spare to discourage me from ever putting any of these skills into action.

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Jeff Needle
jeff.needle@general.com