Friday, March 30, 2018

Affairs at Thrush Green by Miss Read

I'm partial to well-written novels about men of the cloth (Dean's Watch by Elizabeth Goudge and The Warden by Trollope are my favorites) so I was delighted that this seventh installment in the Thrush Green series focused more on Charles Henstock, the vicar.

He is assigned to a new church at Lulling and is grieved by the fact that he is often compared to the former minister. This is not because he is jealous or vain, but because he really wants what is best for the church and is not sure he fits the bill. He humbly responds to one particularly critical busybody and reaps the fruit of his kindness later in the book. I thoroughly enjoyed the occasional glimpses into his heart (his humility, his faithfulness and his gratefulness, to name just a few qualities) At a discouraging moment, he remembered suddenly a phrase someone had shared with him - "Fear nothing, thank God!" The first two words covered the unknown future. The last two covered past mercies received. The rector turned over the four words in his mind, and was strengthened and comforted. (p. 70)

These books are not saccharine sweet. There are happy marriages and troubled ones. Some characters smoke, drink, or swear. But for the most part, the people of the village of Thrush Green look out for one another. And Miss Read does a bang up job of describing their daily trials and victories.

Blessings,

Friday, March 23, 2018

Gossip from Thrush Green by Miss Read

All of Miss Read's books pay homage to the humble afternoon ritual of tea and sponge cake, but Gossip from Thrush Green excels them all with its extended tribute to tea time on the first and last pages.

In far too many places in England today, the agreeable habit of taking afternoon tea has vanished. "Such a shocking waste of time," says one. "Much too fattening a meal with all that dreadful starch," says another. "Quite unnecessary, if one has had lunch or proposes to eat in the evening," says a third.

All very true, no doubt, but what a lot of innocent pleasure these strong-minded people are missing! The very ritual of tea-making, warming the pot, making sure that the water is just boiling, inhaling the fragrant steam, arranging the tea cosy to fit snugly around the precious container, all the preliminaries lead up to the exquisite pleasure of sipping the brew from thin porcelain, and helping oneself to hot buttered scones and strawberry jam, a slice of feather-light cake or home-made shortbread. Taking tea is a highly civilized pastime, and fortunately is still in favor at Thrush Green, where it has been brought to a fine art.

I'm working my way through the whole series and am enjoying it very much. I read Books One and Two last year and bought hard copies of the next five while in the U.S. in January. The books are about life in an English Village and don't have a lot of plot. Each one focuses on half a dozen of the many townspeople, with an occasional romance thrown in. I haven't reviewed all of them here because I haven't enjoyed all of them equally, but I highly recommend reading the series in order because each book builds on a previous one.

Now that I've read six books in the series the characters are beginning to feel like family. I was inordinately happy that Dotty got the help she needed and that the vicar found a better house in which to live. The sophisticated Harold Shoosmith, the timid, lonely school teacher, the gruff but loving Ella, and the crotchety old groundskeeper are only a few of the endearing characters you'll meet in these books.

Previous reviews can be read by clicking on each title: Thrush Green, Winter in TGBattles at TG, Return to TG. I'm happy to see that I can get the next five books in the series as digital downloads from my Michigan library.

Blessings,

Friday, March 16, 2018

2018 - A Year of Slower Reading

They say that chewing slowly is better for your digestion. I'm beginning to understand that it's better for my literary diet as well. Last week I reviewed Arnold Bennet's How to Live on 24 Hours a Day. His basic premise was that self-improvement will bring fulfillment to your life, but it was one of his side points about reading that really struck me.

I know people who take to reading as men take to drink. They fly through the shires of literature on a motor-car, their sole object being motion. They will tell you how many books they have read in a year. [But] unless you give at least forty-five minutes to careful, fatiguing reflection upon what you are reading, your ninety minutes of night are chiefly wasted. This means that your pace will be slow. Never mind. Forget the goal; think only of the surrounding country; and after a period, perhaps when you least expect it, you will suddenly find yourself in a lovely town on a hill.

As I read this, I knew he was talking about me. But this is not who I was when I started blogging nine years ago. Then I was reading a book a week. Although I am a fast reader, I read substantial books that required a certain amount of pondering. Books available to me in Brazil were limited and I carefully chose the ones that I would carry with me in my suitcase. Conscientious choices resulted in pleasurable encounters with many of the western world's best authors.

A couple of years later the Kindle came out and suddenly I had a surplus of options. Then I started joining reading challenges to help chip away at my unending TBR lists. Last year my library began offering a gazillion digital options for book downloads. I no longer read one book a week. I read 3 to 4. This year I added 30 minutes a day of audio books every morning. And yet I've noticed the law of diminishing returns: more books, less pleasure. This frenzy has not brought the literary contentment that I used to sense on a regular basis.

As I was reading Bennett's book, I kept saying to myself, "Next year I'm going to read less books, read more slowly, and revisit old favorites." Then it suddenly occurred to me that I don't have to wait till next year. My tentative reading plans for the year (100 books at Goodreads) are a guideline, not a mandate. I can stop the frenetic reading NOW. Whew!

 But, I worried, what if that means I won't have as many books to blog about? So be it. On second thought, I don't think that will be an issue. I'll read less junk and have more time to devote to books that are worth my time (and hence, yours). So I'm off to a slower pace and looking forward to savoring rather than wolfing down my books. I'll let you know how it goes.

Blessings,

Friday, March 9, 2018

How to Live on Twenty-Four Hours a Day by Arnold Bennett

This small, unassuming little book hit me right between the eyes. Interestingly, it wasn't the main premise that affected me, but one of its secondary points. In How to Live on Twenty-Four Hours a Day, Bennett argues that most of us are just existing and should start using our time more wisely for self-development.  It was written in 1910 and aimed at men who worked 8 hour days and then wasted the rest of their time "recovering" by doing nothing strenuous. He challenged them to separate 90 minutes three nights a week for cultivating their minds. These 7 and half hours would be life-changing according to Bennett. They will quicken the whole life of the week, add zest to it, and increase the interest which you feel in even the most banal occupations. He goes on to emphasize the importance of developing your powers of concentration, the necessity of starting small so as to avoid failure, and the value of frequent self-examination.

Some of his assertions are reasonable: Begin small. I'm all for the petty success. A glorious failure leads to nothing; a petty success may lead to a success that is not petty. Some are laughable: Without the power to concentrate - that is to say, without the power to dictate to the brain its task and to ensure obedience - true life is impossible. Mind control is the first element of full existence.

I read quite a few books about self-development last year and each one had its "secret" for how to live a full life, but self-development for its own sake is a shallow goal. I agree with life coach, Edie Wadsworth, that we keep our hearts, minds and bodies in shape for the greater purpose of serving God and serving others. I have nothing against improving your mind, but I see improving the heart as a much bigger priority.

My take-aways from the book had more to do with Bennett's view of time as a miraculous gift, and his assertion that if we read to improve our characters, we must do it slowly. (That was my epiphany, which I'll describe in detail in my next post.)

While I don't fully agree with his basic premise - that self-development is the key to a fulfilled life, I loved his sly humor and pithy quotes: The most important preliminary to the task of arranging one's life so that one may live fully and comfortably within one's daily budget of 24 hours is the calm realization of the extreme difficulty of the task, of the sacrifices and the endless effort which it demands... If you will not be content with a small effort, then do not begin. Lie down again and resume the uneasy doze which you call existence. This bracing of the will before doing anything worth doing is the chief thing that differentiates me from the cat by the fire.

This short book is well read by Mark Smith at Librivox.

Blessings,
 

Friday, March 2, 2018

The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett

Not since Emma, have I read a story that begins with such an unlikable heroine. But I knew there was hope, and pressed on. Ten year old Mary Lennox has been orphaned by a cholera epidemic and sent to live with an unknown uncle. The truth is that she was an orphan long before the disease took her parents because her socialite mother had ignored her for most of her life. Neglected by her family and spoiled by her servants, she has become surly and selfish. At her uncle's house she meets a sickly, self-centered young boy and the novel describes their redemption. The discovery of a locked-up garden plays an integral part in their transformation; as the garden comes back to life, so do they.

The Secret Garden is a delightful story with lovely descriptions of nature. As a read-aloud, it would be a perfect way to introduce younger children to the glories of springtime with phrases such as this: They drew the chair under the plum tree, which was snow-white with blossoms and musical with bees. It also has a charming array of characters from the crotchety gardener, Ben Weatherstaff, to the no-nonsense servant Martha Sowersby to her wise and loving mother, Susan.

Magic is mentioned throughout the story. Mary believes in it because she's seen snake charmers in India. Dickon is considered magical because he knows all about nurturing plants and animals. Sometimes the magic is the lavish grace of spring. Sometimes it's a mother's love. Sometimes it's will power. Sometimes it's the power of positive thinking. This dizzying array of explanations for anything that appears to be supernatural was okay with me until Chapter 23 when Colin loudly declares that he can do anything because "the magic is in me," which seemed a little too New-Age-y. BUT the author redeemed herself by having the children respond to the "magic" in the only way they can think of - by singing the doxology. Again, as a read-aloud, this book would offer a great opportunity to talk with your children about how God is behind all of these miraculous events: springtime, love, healing, etc.

My enjoyment of this book was greatly enhanced by the version I downloaded from Audible.com because the author pronounced the Yorkshire accents beautifully.

(Barbara at Stray Thoughts discusses the magic theme more thoroughly in her post here.)

Blessings,