The Iliad of Homer - Part Two

In my last post, I shared details of reading The Iliad, and of being pleasantly surprised with its accessibility. In this post I want to add a footnote about an unusually compelling theme that was referenced in the afterword of my Rouse translation. This theme proves that the Iliad is much more than a book about war-hungry men! (If you don't know the story at all, this post contains a major spoiler about the ending. But if you are familiar with the basic details of the story, these details will only enhance your reading of it.)

Adam Nicolson writes, For Homer, suffering is hinged to an unresolvable conflict between two inescapable elements of human nature: the ties that bind (family, friendship, community) and the blades that cut through those bindings (such as war). The war is shown against the backdrop of the people, homes and families of Troy. It is violence against domestic order.

To Homer, the city, the realm of family and connection, makes a stand against the chaos. In Troy, woven cloth becomes the medium for his story. When Helen first appears, she is in the hall of her house, weaving. In Book 3, she is working woven images into a tapestry showing the battles that have been fought over her. Helen, as she remembers the source of grief, becomes like Homer, the weaver of the tale.

[Outside the gates of Troy] where the battlefield is a careless and pitiless place, the allure and goodness of the besieged city become ever more precious. Achilles is determined to destroy the Trojans. They flee from his wrath back into the city – all except Hector, their champion, who must remain out on the plain with his adversary.

This is not just the meeting of Achilles and Hector; it is the deathly confrontation of two ways of understanding the world. The city is goodness and connection; the battlefield is horror and death. With Hector’s death, the city’s fabric is irreparably torn.

I have to confess that I missed that theme entirely! But like any classic, there will always be layers of meaning that surface with each subsequent reading.

I will close with just one quote comparing the two versions that I read. (Pope gets a bad rap for his translation, but I enjoyed his energetic eloquence.)

Few and short had his days been when Ajax laid him low, and he never paid to his parents the debt of a grateful son. (W.H.D. Rouse)

Lamented youth! In life’s first bloom he fell, sent by great Ajax to the shades of hell. (Alexander Pope)

P.S. Regarding translations, the majority of readers on the Lit Life Facebook page recommend Lattimore. Coincidentally, last week's Literary Life Podcast was about how to get started reading the ancient classics.

Blessings,

The Iliad by Homer - Part One

I was challenged by Don Beck in his Substack to tackle some of the classics I’ve been putting off for years. So, I took a deep breath and plunged into the Iliad. Fortunately, I’d listened to Elizabeth Vandivers’ “Great Courses” lectures last year and had a pretty good idea of its major themes. Still, it took perseverance to read the (sometimes) stiff language and to try and remember who was who.

I found it helpful to make a list of the central characters in the book so that I could disregard the dozens of other names mentioned. It was good to be able to recognize the main Trojans (Paris, Hector, Priam) and the main Greeks (Achilles, Meneleus, Agamemnon, and Petroclus). Unfortunately, many of them had more than one name! Even the gods changed names! (I had to abandon the audiobook and read a hard copy to keep everybody straight.) With that confusion cleared up, the story became much more engaging.   

The Iliad describes the final weeks of a ten-year battle between the Greeks and the Trojans over the beautiful Helen who had been taken from Meneleus, the Spartan king, by Paris, a Trojan prince.

I read W.H.D. Rouse’s (1938) prose translation. He created a very readable version, but I sometimes missed more robust language. Occasionally, I would take a peek at Alexender Pope’s more poetic version to meet that need. Rouse, in his attempt to put the poem in plain, modern English, sometimes surprised me with his rough language. Frequently he exchanged the more poetical “alas” for “damn it.” The schoolboys (for whom this translation was intended) must have chortled at the various swear words sprinkled throughout. 

But “plain, modern English” does not mean dumbed down. This was 1938, after all, when many people still had fairy tales and the King James Bible running around in their heads. That would have made this sentence from Book One seem strangely familiar: The king sent a dire pestilence on the camp and the people perished. Some phrases were downright brilliant such as when Agamemnon’s invincible hands were bedabbled in gore.

 A cursory reading of the story leaves you with the impression that this is a tale of men greedy for war and its spoils. But Homer had much more to say than that. The background is war, but the themes are of mortality and what makes life worth living. The ideas of honor and glory are central, but Vandiver makes it very clear that the Greek understanding of glory ("kleos") isn't just accolades for winning a battle.

In the introduction, Rouse writes, [To the Greeks,] life is lived and death is died according to a certain code of values: to be fully human (at least for a man) is to be a hero, to kill or be killed for honor and glory. Various characters grapple with this social code, especially Achilles and Hector.

I have more that I want to say about that, but it will have to wait for another post. This epic poem is definitely worth the effort. 

P.S. Vandiver's enthusiasm for her subject matter is quite contagious. Happily, her lectures are free as digital downloads from most libraries via Hoopla. 

Blessings,

Breaking Bread with the Dead by Alan Jacobs

According to Alan Jacobs, as our society becomes more and more immersed in digital realities, we are losing our personal density. He wrote this book to encourage his audience to learn to think more deeply by reading more widely.

He begins by explaining why our thinking has become so thin. Because of the deluge of information pouring into our minds via screens, we must, of necessity, practice a form of informational triage. We simply cannot read everything so we choose those subjects which are immediately interesting, and topics which are generally written from the point of view of those with whom we agree.

There is no time to think about anything else. This preoccupation with the present, with no regard for history or past ideas, leads to a “lightweight” existence that is easily toppled by life’s hard knocks. Jacobs believes that reading old books (and grappling with their ideas) can give us a stability that is not easily shaken by each current event or recent mode of thinking.

Jacobs encourages us to read older books with a generosity toward the author, which means that instead of writing them off for being racist, sexist, white or male, etc., we need to be gracious toward them and give them more of your attention than you may at certain moments feel that they deserve – because you hope that something good will come of it. At the very least you hope for an expansion of your own understanding.

He writes, I believe that any significant increase in personal density is largely achieved through encounters with un-likeness. When we read something that startles us (or with which we disagree) we are naturally tempted to close the book. But if we disregard all past authors for differences we have with them, our pool of candidates for our attention will get smaller and smaller.  Eventually we get a nicely manageable collection of ideas, all of which are more or less the same. But this limited understanding of the world leaves us impoverished.

G.K. Chesterton’s argued that when we ignore the history and ideas of the past, we do so at our own peril. If the modern man is indeed the heir of all the ages, he is often the kind of heir who tells the family solicitor to sell the whole damned estate, lock, stock, and barrel, and give him a little ready money to throw away at the races or the nightclubs. (from his essay: On Man – Heir of All Ages)

I learned a lot from this book, but while reading, I had to practice what Jacobs preached. Although I sometimes disliked his disdainful tone, I kept going because his main emphases are ideas that are very important to me. If only he had been as generous to those with whom he disagrees (who are still living) as he is with writers of the past. 

Blessings,

Metamorphoses by Ovid

My reading of Metamorphoses was an example of the old proverb, "Slow and steady wins the race." Inspired by my experience with 100 Days of Dante in which I read through Purgatorio, Inferno and Paradiso (twice!) by the very simple practice of reading 15 minutes per day, 3 times per week, I plunged into another reading project, this time self-formulated.

With Dante, I had not only discovered that reading a hard book was doable, I had learned that, with the right teachers, it could also be enjoyable. I wondered if it would it be possible for me to read the works of Shakespeare the same way. I found a Shakespeare enthusiast (Jake) on Goodreads who had written an extensive list of books to read before ever attempting Shakespeare. I knew that if I read all the books on his list, it would be years before I ever got to the actual plays so I decided to take his top six suggestions. (Ovid, Montaigne's Essays, Nicomachean Ethics,The Iliad, The Odyssey, and Greek and Roman Myths).

It took seven months to get through Metamorphoses, but it was relatively painless. My version by Henry T. Riley was 99 cents for Kindle and had helpful intros to each fable as well as extensive footnotes. (Unfortunately, the maneuverabilty between the text and the footnotes in the appendix was not very smooth.) Even with those helps, I was sometimes clueless, and was happy to discover Ian Johnston's translation online, which was much more accessible. Often Ovid will mention a person or god without using their name ("girl from Arcady, descendent of Abas, son of Apollo," etc.); Johnston's version fills in the god's/person's actual name to simplify things for the modern reader.

I took extensive notes on each fable, which slowed me down even more, but I felt it was worth it to sharpen my focus and to help me remember what I'd just read. (If you know anything about Charlotte Mason's teaching methods, it was the equivalent of narration.)

Translations can be rough and Riley's was full of the archaic language of his day. (The benefit of reading the 1899 version was that all the hanky panky between gods and mortals was described in euphemisms.) But I loved some his poetic turns of phrase such as when he describes Cadmus as loaded with woes and with years, or when another man flees the bustling city to be alone in unambitious fields. It was fun to see the source of Romeo and Juliet in the story of Pyramus and Thisbe. 

I look forward to continuing this journey over the next few years. 

Has anyone else tried to make it through the Shakespearean canon? Any tips for me?

Footnote: A couple of weeks after I posted this, the Literary Life podcast did an episode on How to Read Shakespeare.

Blessings,

Reading Year in Review 2025

In spite of the fact that my brain was in a fog (teaching overload) for almost six months this year, I managed to squeeze in quite a few reading gems. Here is the list: 

Favorite re-read: Charlotte's Web audiobook (read perfectly by E.B. White)

Biggest effort, but worth it: Metamorphoses by Ovid (review forthcoming)

Favorite light reads: Elizabeth Caddell's Wayne Family series (reviewed here)

Favorite book by a new-to-me author: Old Herbaceous by Reginald Arkell (1881-1959). I cried buckets of tears over this bittersweet fictional memoir. (review forthcoming)

Best non-fiction: John Oswalt's audiobook on the book of Isaiah, and Pages from a WWII Chaplain's Diary (reviewed here.)  And, although I'm not finished with it, Gerald Wilson's NIV commentary on the Psalms brought me many hours of delight.

Favorite mystery: Surfeit of Lampreys by Ngaio Marsh (Inspector Alleyn #10), reviewed here.

The novel that made my blood run cold: Address Unknown (letters exchanged before WWII between a Jewish American and his German friend from 1932-1934.)

The book that lived rent-free in my brain for weeks: Beauty by Roger Scruton (A difficult book that I'll be reviewing next month.) 

The book that delighted me quite unexpectedly: Cinderella (29 Different Versions)

Honorable mention goes to a YouTube channel that I've really enjoyed, The Commonplace with Autumn Kerr. Although my homeschooling days are over, I enjoy her wonderful book recommendations. (Also, her emphasis on how to live like a human in a digital world.)

Here is the list of all the books I read in 2025: Goodreads link

What about you? What were your favorite books of 2025?

Blessings,

Reminscing about Books #7

This will be my last nostalgic post this year because my teaching schedule is lightening up, and soon I'll have the head space for reading and reviewing. I've missed writing about books!

In the year 2014, I wrote my one and only post that went viral (in a modest sort of way). I had discovered Librivox a few years earlier and was able to recommend some of the better readers. That garnered enough interest to get almost 8,000 views (rather than my average of about 50). One responder told me about Adrian Praetzellis who is absolutely remarkable as a narrator, especially for Treasure Island.

Two children's classics bowled me over that year: Charlotte's Web (reviewed here) and C.S. Evans' beautiful version of Sleeping Beauty (reviewed here and here). 

My final gem was David Copperfield by Charles Dickens (reviewed here). I'd been trying to like Dickens for decades, and this book turned me into a devoted fan. 

That was also the year I wrote my personal favorite post on Christian romance novels. I got a lot of suggestions for "better" Christian fiction, but am still not convinced. I devoured Grace Livingston Hill books as a teen, and read other Christian authors until I was about thirty. But when I began to read the classics (especially Trollope), I somehow lost my taste for the fluffier stuff. (I still like an occasional light, fun book, as you know if you've read this blog for any amount of time.)   

Have you found that your reading tastes have changed over the years? 

P.S. Amazon usually has an end-of-the year deal on Kindle Unlimited for 99 cents for three months. I saw it earlier, but couldn't find the link to post here. It would be worth it just to read the first ten Ngaio Marsh novels. But there are also quite a few D.E. Stevenson and Miss Read titles (cozy British village settings).

Blessings,

Reminiscing about Books #5

Well, 2011 brought quite a revolution to my reading life when my husband gave me a Kindle! I was not interested at first. (Some of my regular readers may remember that I wrote many blogs about how digital reading causes us to read less deeply), but I finally succumbed because I could carry dozens of books with me when I travelled and because my favorite genre, literary classics, was almost always free. 

Anyway, my Kindle opened the door to discovering some lesser-known vintage authors such as O. Douglas, Ralph Henry Barbour, and C.N. Williamson, whom I have thoroughly enjoyed when in need of light, clean reading that is not dumbed-down. (I wrote two posts on favorite titles here and here.)

I was introduced to three wonderful new-to-me authors in 2011: Jon Hassler (review of Green Journey), Joseph Crosby Lincoln (review of Fair Harbor) and Maurice LeBlanc (review of The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsene Lupin). 

It was also the year I first read the first two Lord of the Rings books. Truly, you are never quite the same after reading them. 

A good year for literary riches!

Blessings,

Reminiscing about Books #3

Continuing my walk down memory lane, these are the classics I tackled for the first time in 2009. Almost every one was a delightful surprise to me.

I certainly didn't expect to love Frankenstein, but the book dealt with issues that the movies never tackle - principally about the potential misuse of science. I am so glad I read it! (Reviewed here.) The Count of Monte Cristo was over a thousand pages and took me a month to complete, but it was definitely worth it. (Reviewed here).  

A modern classic that I read was Gilead by Marilynne Robinson, which stunned me with its quiet beauty. (Reviewed here.) 

These next two titles were not new, but became favorites the second time around. I read Persuasion again and completely changed my mind about it. (Reviewed here.) Watching the 1995 BBC version helped because Amanda Root managed to portray Anne's meekness as strength rather than wishy-washiness. Another Austen re-read was Northanger Abbey, which was redeemed by the audiobook version. I have to admit, when I read it the first time I did not know it poked fun at Gothic novels. In the audiobook, all the spoofiness came through loud and clear, and caused many a chuckle. 

I've read all of Austen now, but Persuasion is the one I re-read most often. Next to Jane Eyre it's my favorite literary "comfort food." 

Blessings,

Reminscing about Books #2

When I started blogging, I had a few classics under my belt (Jane Eyre, Wind in the Willows, Alice in Wonderland, and Persuasion), but I had a long way to go before considering myself "well-read." As I look back at my "Reading Year in Review" posts, it is fun to see the classics that I read for the first time during each year. I also enjoy recalling when I was introduced to new-to-me authors (many who were recommended by readers of the blog).

Here is the list of classics I discovered in 2008. I still love all of them.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen (reviewed here)

Middlemarch by George Eliot (reviewed here) 

Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell (reviewed here) 

Hard Times by Charles Dickens (reviewed here)

China Court by Rumer Godden is not technically a classic because it was written in 1961, but I am happy to have discovered this author through another blogging friend. (reviewed here)

What were some of the first classics you tackled? 

Blessings,

The Divine Comedy by Dante

A.A. Milne famously said, "One does not argue about The Wind in the Willows.... The book is a test of character. We can't criticize it, because it is criticizing us.... When you sit down to it, don't be so ridiculous as to suppose that you are sitting in judgement on my taste, or on the art of Kenneth Grahame. You are merely sitting in judgment on yourself. You may be worthy: I don't know. But it is you who are on trial."

Truly, there are some classics I do not judge because they are so out of my realm of understanding that they need to be read humbly. The Bible, Shakespeare and Dante's Comedia all fit into that category. 

I recently re-read Inferno and Purgatorio. I was lost eighty percent of the time two years ago, but was surprised at how much more I understood and enjoyed it this second time around. It was actually the highlight of my morning three days a week. (I again used the schedule and complementary videos from the 100 Days of Dante done by Baylor University, which greatly enhanced the experience.)

While I still consider myself a neophyte in the Dantean world, I am beginning to appreciate his genius for imagery and poetical symmetry. His use of the "contrapasso" is often startling. Contrapasso is the principle that every soul must suffer in the afterlife according to the sin they committed in life. Sometimes this is shown ironically as in the punishment for fortune tellers. Because they tried to look to the future, they will spend eternity with their heads on backwards, doomed to forever looking behind rather than forward.  

Then there is something called "vertical reading," which means that in all three books (Inferno, Purgatorio and Paradiso) each canto has a similar theme. For example, Narcissus is mentioned in Canto 30 of each the three books. And it is no coincidence that all three books end with the word "star." 

Not only are there 33 cantos in each book (book one has an introductory canto which doesn't count), but there are 33 syllables per tercet (three lines of verse). There are three ladies who help, three guides, and three apostles. All this is because in Dante's world the cosmos is structured and stewarded by the three-person God. (Brian Williams talks about all of this in his brief overview of The Inferno here.)

I used a hardcopy of John Ciardi's translation, which was loaded with helpful notes, but I missed the beautiful language. Happily, I found a wonderful audioversion on Chirp, which I think might be Robert Hollander's version. 

Here's an example of the language difference:

Ciardi: Ah! What wounds I saw, some new, some old, branded upon their bodies! Even now the pain of it turns me cold.

Hollander: Ah! what wounds I marked upon their limbs, recut and old, inflicted by the flames. Even the remembrance of them grieves me yet. 

Here are a few YouTube videos that might encourage you to give Dante a try: one by Malcom Guite and one by Anthony Esolen. Karen Swallow Prior shares strong opinions about the Comedia here.

Has anyone else dipped into Dante? Do you have a favorite translation?

Blessings

Best-read vs. Well-Read - Quote from Dennis Kinlaw

Five years ago I posted a quote from one of my favorite pastors and thinkers, Dr. Dennis Kinlaw, on the importance of deep reading. This week I was listening to one of his sermons, and was delighted to hear more of his literary journey. He shares about a time as a young pastor when he was acting as chauffeur for visiting speaker, A. W. Tozer:

Tozer had an 11th grade education. I had my Masters of Divinity degree and had studied a couple of years at Princeton. We talked books, and he told me about books I never knew existed. He was the best-read man I had ever talked with. Maybe not the most widely read, but the best-read. As we talked about books, he suddenly looked at me and said, "Kinlaw, don't ever read a good book!" I blinked and said, "I beg your pardon?" He said, "You'll never have time to read all the best ones, for goodness sake don't waste your time on a good one." 

That was a moment of liberation for me because I had a lot of friends. When we pastors would meet together, one of them would say, "Have you read...?" and I wanted to be able to say, "Oh, yes, I've read.... But have you read...?" And we played one-upmanship with each other. And the prize went to the one who'd read the most, not the one who'd read the best. 

After that moment, I found myself re-reading some things. You know you don't get any credit for a second and third time through. But it will make a radical change in the inner dialogue of your inner being. So I've always given thanks to A.W. Tozer [for deepening my reading life.]

I don't think this means that we only have to read theology books. But I do know that once I trained my literary taste buds to enjoy deeper books, it became very hard to read fluff. In between Christian classics, I also enjoy WWII memoirs, children's lit and vintage detective fiction. Plus, now that I'm 63, I definitely don't have to time to read mediocre books!

Blessings,

Audible Haul – Bargain Basement or Money Pit?

Spending more than a few dollars for a book puts me in panic mode. But when I tried Audible.com ten years ago, I enjoyed the many bargains I was able to get. There has been no need to re-subscribe now that my library offers digital downloads of almost everything. So why on earth did I fall for the “3 Months free” offer earlier this year? Pure greed.

Not only did I get my three free books (technically 13 books for 3 credits), but my wish list had become so extensive that I bought three more credits (for a small discount). The folks at Audible are not stupid. I wonder if anyone really ever signs up for the free months and gets away unscathed. Here is what I ended up buying:

For the free credits: C.S. Lewis Essential Audio – nine of his non-fiction books (39 hours), Hercule Poirot Short Stories (35 hours, reg $50), Homer Box Set: Iliad and Odyssey by W.H.D. Rouse – (25 hours) but it came with a BOGO offer so I also received George McDonald’s Fairy Tales)

For my purchased credits, I got the C.S. Lewis Essay Collection (reg $23), Ten Charles Dickens novels (reg $25), and the first five Lord Peter Wimsey novels (38 hours, reg $32)

Did I stop there? Oh no, dear reader. How could I turn down Charlotte’s Web read by E.B. White? ($10), and The Magic Apple Tree by Susan Hill ($13), and 36 hours of Agatha Christie for ONE DOLLAR?

Was my heart satisfied? Not yet. I had to have my favorite, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir ($10) and 12 hours of Miss Marple’s short stories (when it went on sale for $8), and Sean Bean reading King Arthurand the Knights of the Round Table by Benedict Flynn (another $8), and James Herriot’sTreasury for Children ($5)

Well, I’m not sure if I did well or if I was just plain hoodwinked. My three free months led to a spending spree of around $90 - something I would never actually spend in a real bookstore.

Granted, if I had used their regular prices of $15 per credit, I would have gotten only 6 books for that amount. As it happens, I purchased 32 books and dozens of short stories so I am not too disappointed. All I need to do now is to cancel my “free” subscription before my husband checks our credit card statement. And to find time to start listening! 

Do you do Audible? What do you think? 

Blessings, 

The Betrothed by Alessandro Manzoni

I often say I prefer Catholic authors to modern Christian fiction writers because they address human suffering without giving overly simplistic answers. The Betrothed by Alessandro Manzoni is a perfect example.

The novel take place in Italy in the 17th century, and covers actual historical events of that time, particularly the plague of 1630. Renzo and Lucia are pledged to be married to one another, but serious impediments arise that keep them apart for several years. Can their love withstand the challenges that each must face alone?

Fortunately, this is much more than a story of separated lovers. There are villains and heroes. In the midst of political instability, lawlessness, famine, kidnapping, rioting, and narrow escapes, themes emerge of redemption, forgiveness, and trust in God's ultimate plan. It shows suffering as the great equalizer. When famine comes, both the rich and poor go hungry. When the plague hits, both outlaws and saints succumb to death. AND yet there is a difference in the reactions to the calamities. Some become hardened and rob the dead bodies and pillage the houses. Others lay their lives on the line to help the helpless. Though written from a Catholic perspective, The Betrothed does not blindly glorify Catholicism. Selfish, ungodly leaders intermingle with the humble and self-giving ones. 

During the plague, the priests are given the task of manning the lazarettos (housing for the sick and dying). Manzoni writes that as the plague took its toll, means, men and courage failed as the necessity for the lazarettos increased. Nine out of ten of the priests died. But where suffering was, there they were. 

Without giving any big spoilers, I will say that both Lucia and Renzo grow through their trials and learn that God never disturbs the joys of His children but to prepare them for one more certain and endurable. Manzoni reminds us that the most cautious and blameless conduct cannot secure us from troubles. [But] when they come, whether by our own fault or not, confidence in God alleviates them and makes them cohesive to a better life.

If anything, the book teaches that the Christian life is full of testing, but that God is faithful.

The Betrothed is supposedly the most famous and widely read novel in the Italian language. I listened to a good translation, but I will admit that it was still not easy to get through. Some of the chapters on politics and geography (and even the detailed descriptions of the plague) were laborious. The audiobook, narrated by Nicholas Bolton, helped me to stick with it, and when it was all done, I felt deeply nourished by the hours I had spent in this book. 

Anyone else familiar with this title?

Blessings,

Worthwhile Movie #21 - BBC's North and South

It’s been four years since I have recommended a movie, but a recent viewing of BBC’s 2004 production of North and South proved that good movies still exist if you are willing to look for them.  

Based on Elizabeth Gaskell’s 1854 novel, North and South tells the story of how Reverend Richard Hale moves his family from the (traditional) south of England to the (industrial) north after he loses his curacy due to “matters of conscience.” Living at reduced means with a sickly wife, Mr. Hale tutors young pupils and even gives lessons in Latin to John Thornton, overseer of a large cotton mill.  

One of the main story lines is how Hale’s genteel daughter, Margaret, adapts to this new reality. Members of Milton's upper class are suspicious of her father’s mysterious departure from the ministry and do not welcome her into their circle. She reaches out to several factory workers, but they misunderstand her overtures of friendship. It is delightful to watch her grow as she stumbles along (yet persists) in building relationships under these difficult circumstances. 

A secondary story, but a no less crucial one, is about the dynamics of power. Are all the factory owners villains who care only for money and not a bit for the laborers? Do the workers have a right to strike for better wages? In our present-day understanding (relying heavily on a “critical theory mood”), there are only two categories: the oppressed and the oppressor. No “master” can ever be right. And the oppressed can never be wrong. I was stunned by the deft, nuanced handling of these subjects in this film. It would have not been made in the same way today.

Third, is the love story, which, though central to the narrative, was understated, simmering just below the surface for the most part. I love a story of unrequited love (don’t ask me why!) so the fact that it took four hours for the romantic misunderstandings to be resolved was fine by me. I also appreciated that the lead characters were not over the top good-looking. He was a little too hawk-nosed and she a little too plump by Hollywood standards, yet they were perfection in their respective roles.

I am not sure where this can be streamed (maybe Brit Box?), but we found it on DVD and were so glad to have discovered it. Now I have to go back and re-read the novel!

Blessings,

Reading Goals for 2024

My tentative goals for 2024 are these ten titles:

The Inklings and King Arthur, Beowulf, The Canterbury Tales, Pickwick Papers or Oliver Twist, Bodies from the Library #1 (vintage detective stories), Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry, Time for Poetry by Arbuthnot, The Literary Lives of the Inklings, On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness by Andrew Peterson and, for my theology class, Pentecost and Santification in the Writings of John Wesley and Charles Wesley by Laurence Wood (a former professor of mine). 

Since I read about 80 books a year, the rest will come from "grazing" on my Kindle, my Hoopla account, and my Audible library. 

I have several series that I need to finish: Ngaio Marsh mysteries (I'm up to book 9), Jan Karon's Mitford series (book 7), and Narnia (book 4). I may dip into some of the books being covered by the Literary Life Podcast. Looking forward to discovering a few new favorites along the way!

May your new year be replete with good food, good books, good company, and God's blessing.

Blessings,

Reading Year in Review 2023

Some of my reading goals for 2023 were sidetracked by the unexpected rabbit trail of the Arthurian legends, but it was a happy detour. Of the five versions I read, Howard Pyle's The Story of King Arthur and His Knights was the one that most captured my heart, making it my favorite book of the year. Some of my other top picks were:

Best devotional book: My Utmost for His Highest. I dust off my copy every few years for a re-read. Chambers doesn't pull any punches about the cost of being a disciple. Very heart-strengthening.

Most difficult, but worth the effort: Norms and Nobility by Hicks. Although it is a book on education (the classical tradition), it is also a book on what it means to be fully human. Lots of food for thought. 

Non-fiction: Supper of the Lamb by R.F. Capon. I loved this cooking memoir for its "joie de vivre." Life is beautiful (and hard). Don't waste it.

YA books that were delightful: Miracles on Maple Hill by Sorenson and The King's Equal by Katherine Paterson

Biggest surprise and second favorite: The Bridge of San Luis Rey. (No one ever told me how wonderful this 1928 Pulitzer prize winner is. Review is forthcoming.) 

What about you? What were your favorites of the year?

All 84 books that I read this year are listed on my Goodreads page. 

Blessings,

Reading for the Love of God by Jessica Hooten Wilson

Why and how we read matters as much as what we read. 

It is not enough to read the Bible; you must eat the book 

(quoting Eugene Peterson and Ezekiel 3:3).

The premise of Reading for the Love of God is that words must get inside you and change you. This is transformation vs. information. If you want to know how to "eat the book," learn how to read – not only the Bible but other great books as well – as a spiritual practice.

Wilson’s book often reminded me of the Literary Life Podcast because both she and they emphasize the folly of reader-centered education (where students are asked how the text makes them feel thereby missing most of what the text is actually saying). She suggests that one way to avoid that is to use the ART metric. In it, the Author, Reader and Text are given equal emphasis. Yes, the readers emotions are involved, but only after he begins to pay attention to what the text is actually saying - all the while being respectful of the author’s point of view.

To be a critic is to stand over the text making the reader judge and master over the text. This standing over prevents the understanding necessary to be transfigured by the reading. The reader should approach the book in the way a student draws near a teacher, with a willingness to learn, to receive, from the books. (p. 11)

Wilson places a strong emphasis on how medieval Christians saw deeper meanings in everything they read in the Bible, and criticizes Luther (and the Reformation) for making the literal meaning of the text paramount thereby excluding the other “senses” (allegorical, tropological, and anagogical). I find this to be problematic because it leaves too much room for heretical interpretations. One of her main examples of a saint whose reading style we should imitate is Juliana of Norwich. But Wilson doesn’t mention that Juliana’s zeal to see the love of God in every verse of Scripture caused her to negate the possibility of wrath, judgment or hell.

Apart from that caveat, I appreciated Wilson’s deep love for the written word and her encouragement to keep reading deeply.

A life of reading counteracts the malformation of screen and digital technology…. In contrast to many other pastimes, reading demands engagement. It asks something of the participant. It cultivates that person’s imagination and increases their vision of the world. (p. 15)

Blessings,

Uncle Tom's Cabin by Harriet Beecher Stowe

(Be aware that some mild spoilers are inevitable in this review.)

I avoided Uncle Tom's Cabin for years anticipating caricatures, bad writing, and preachiness. Frankly, it was much better than I expected. Yes, there are some stereotypes, but there are also many nuanced, well-drawn characters. I had to read all 300 pages before I could decide in which group to fit Uncle Tom. It would have been easy to write off him for his unusually placid outlook on life, which is why I think Stowe was wise to create a needed contrast in the character of George. 

Sometimes Stowe was preachy, but she also worked hard to show different points of view on slavery.  It was fascinating to see every possible Scripture verse (both to defend and denounce it) coming out of the mouths of the main characters. Some, like Maria, hold to their views of slavery no matter what they see with their own eyes. Others, like Ophelia, grow in their understanding of the problem. Though Ophelia is convinced that slaves have eternal souls and should be educated and treated well, she is initially horrified when Eva kisses one of the black servants. She slowly evolves, becoming a tender and true woman of faith. 

Three drawbacks: Stowe, in her effort to be gracious toward blacks, unknowingly writes condescendingly, often making blanket statements about them as "a sensitive and impressionable race," or describing a person as acting "after the manner of their race." It doesn't wear well today, but I'm sure that at the time of her writing, it was seen as sympathetic. Also, the "N" word is used frequently by both whites and blacks. Last of all, the saintliest person in the book was, to me, the least believable. 

I was intrigued by the fact that even though slavery was the primary issue in the novel, a strong secondary theme was theodicy. Is it possible to trust God in the midst of extreme suffering? Very thought-provoking!

Blessings,

The Story of King Arthur and His Knights by Howard Pyle

I had been primed for Howard Pyle’s King Arthur and His Knights by two previous retellings of the Arthurian legends (Green’s and Knowles’). But I wasn’t prepared for how deeply I would love this third version.

From the very first page, I was captivated by Pyle’s affection and reverence for this legendary king. In the introduction he wrote, I believe that King Arthur was the most honorable, gentle Knight who ever lived in the world. And those who were his fellows of the Round Table – taking him as their looking glass of chivalry – made, altogether, such a company of noble knights that is hardly to be supposed that their like will ever be seen again in this world.

Truly his heart was “stirred with a noble theme.”

Unlike the two previous authors I read, Pyle manages to weave the legends together into a cohesive and beautiful adult fairy tale, which I found enthralling and at times achingly beautiful. Because he was unconcerned with brevity (this is the first of four volumes), he also includes many details that the others left out about Guinivere, Sir Pellias, Excalibur, Merlin, and much more.

The rich language made my heart sing! At times it was something simple like the black knight being called the “Sable” Knight. At other times it took on fabulous fairy tale tones such as, Thus died that wicked man, for as King Arthur drave past him, the evil soul of him quitted his body with a weak noise like to the squeaking of a bat, and the world was well rid of him.

I normally hate moralizing in books, but I thought Pyle was very effective in making connections between the knight’s actions and his expectations that his readers would also live lives of faithfulness and honor:

So endeth the story of the winning of Excalibur, and may God give unto you in your life, that you may have His truth to aid you, like a shining sword, for to overcome your enemies; and may He give you Faith (for Faith containeth Truth as a scabbard containeth its sword), and may that Faith heal all your wounds of sorrow as the sheath of Excalibur healed all the wounds of him who wore that excellent weapon. For with Truth and Faith girded upon you, you shall be as well able to fight all your battles as did that noble hero of old, whom men call King Arthur.

This is a book that I can’t wait to own so that I can underline it to my heart’s content. I listened to the audio version by Stuart Langton (via Hoopla) and then read the chapters on my kindle to savor them a second time. Though the language is occasionally difficult, most of the old-fashioned words can be deciphered within their context. Highly recommended if you love beautiful storytelling.

 I am only on the beginning of this fantastic journey. There are no less than 456 books listed at Goodreads of Arthurian Legend retellings!

Blessings,

King Arthur and His Knights by Roger Lancelyn Green

My entire knowledge of the Arthurian legends is based on movies from my childhood (“Camelot” and Disney’s “The Sword in the Stone”), so this book was bound to be enlightening. I must admit the first fifty pages were tough going with countless knights being named on one page and countless unnamed knights being killed on the opposite page. But I’m glad I persevered.

In the introduction to King Arthur and His Knights, Green states that although he used Sir Thomas Malory’s “Le Morte D’Arthur” as the basis for his retellings, he also includes stories from half a dozen other sources. I was disappointed that Green told the stories quite simply without any beautiful language, but discovered that the legends themselves are so compelling that they don’t need much embellishment. I thoroughly enjoyed the book once I adjusted my expectations in that regard. As I read, I was reminded of other favorite stories. The lion that meets Sir Percivale had Aslan-like characteristics and the Enchanted Ship and the Quest reminded me of Lord of the Rings. At times I felt I was immersed in a sad and beautiful fairy tale. The Christian symbolism throughout was also fascinating.

Green does his best to weave the separate stories into a single timeline, but don't expect the same cohesiveness as a novel. The first group of stories introduce Arthur and the evil Morgana le Fay. Book Two is about the noble knights of the Round Table. Book Three focuses on the quest for the Holy Grail, and Book Four is about the final days of King Arthur’s reign.

My nephew named his new daughter Columba (after a woman in the Arthurian legends) and I wanted to know more about her. Sadly, she appears in only one sentence in this book, but I am delighted that my curiosity led me to take the plunge into these fabulous tales.  It is easy to see why they have captured the imagination of fans for centuries. 

P.S. When I finished this, I immediately devoured Sir James Knowles' version which was a bit longer and in King James English (which seemed more fitting). I loved both versions.

Blessings,