My Dear Charlotte by Hazel Holt

I've been in a reading slump. This is partly due to my heavy schedule that hasn't allowed for the mental leisure to "get lost in a book." But it is also due to the non-fiction books I'm reading for some personal projects. They are feeding my mind, but not necessarily my heart. I've started and abandoned a dozen books in the last month, desperate to find the right one to meet that need.

On a whim I began reading My Dear Charlotte because it was described as 1) a mystery, 2) a "must" for Austen-lovers, and 3) an epistolary novel, which checked off a lot of my "biblio-boxes."

It was balm to my soul. 

For those who are unfamiliar with Austen's books this "novel in letters" might seem rather dull. Not much goes on beyond gossip about neighbors and small talk about the price of fabric. Yes, there is a mysterious death, but it won't have you hanging on the edge of your seat. And if you love a good romance, this one will seem pretty mild. 

So what's so great about My Dear Charlotte? It would have to be its nod to all of Austen's novels. Holt gives names to her characters that fans will readily recognize (Elinor, Frederick, Bates, Ferrell, Willoughby, etc.) There are familiar place names (Lyme, Bath, Church Street) and even phrases (Mary's headaches "being worse than anyone else's") that are taken straight out of Austen's novels. AND there are secret engagements, sudden proposals, and handsome young men who turn out to be dastardly. 

Hazel Holt is the author of cozy mysteries, but in this book she interweaves her story with actual letters written by Jane Austen. Some reviewers say that it is very clear where one author starts and the other ends because of the changes in subject matter. They may have a point, but I found no dissonance between Austen's tone and Holt's. Holt mimics Austen very well and I thoroughly enjoyed Elinor's ladylike snarkiness. 

Her description of Mr Russell: He is as accomplished at dancing as he is at flirting, and makes a very agreeable parnter on both accounts. Later she writes, Our mother said that Mr. Russell looked remarkably well - legacies are a very wholesome diet. 

As I said before, the romance and the mystery are not front and center. The book is about Elinor's witty take on every day life as expressed in her letters to her sister. It is pure literary comfort food.

P.S. As a lover of Methodist history, I loved all the little jabs at the "evangelicalism" of Mr. Wilmot. And I enjoyed the frequent references to books and plays that were popular during Jane Austen's lifetime.  

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,

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,

What I Read and Watched in October 2023

Our rented apartment has no television so I continue to get a remarkable amount of reading done. The books I read in order of most-to-least appealing were 1) The Bridge on San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder (simply astonishing in its breadth of understanding of the human condition), 2) The King's Equal by Katherine Paterson (a delightful fairy tale with a strong, yet feminine heroine), 3) Miracles on Maple Hill by Virginia Sorenson (1957 Newbery winner), 4) Reading for the Love of God by Jessica Hooten Wilson, 5) When the English Fall by David Williams (dystopia in an Amish community), 6) On Asking God Why by Elisabeth Elliot (collected essays), 7) Out of a Far Country (non-fiction redemption story), 8) The Gabriel Hounds by Mary Stewart (I love her suspense novels, but this one droned on for 150 pages before my heart rate even mildly accelerated.)

The movies that I watched on my computer were: The African Queen (via Hoopla), which was a fun classic that my husband and I both enjoyed. On YouTube I started to watch a Hallmark mystery called The Curious Caterer, but turned it off after 5 painful minutes of poor acting, banal script and odd situations. The Carrot Cake Murder is a sequel of sorts to the Murder, She Baked movies that I've raved about, but was so badly done that I barely hung on until the end. Finally, I watched another Hallmark mystery (via Frndly TV), The Dancing Detective. The male character was over-the-top ridiculous, but he kept me laughing. Plus, the footage of Malta was breathtaking. 

I linked to the books so you could read more about them, but I read all of them from library, thrift store or loaned copies. Hopefully, so can you. 

Blessings,

"Reading as Fortress Building" - Quotes from Philip Yancey

In a recent Washington Post article, Philip Yancey laments the death of his reading life. Here are a few excerpts:

Here’s the simple truth behind reading a lot of books. It’s not that hard. We have all the time we need. The scary part—the part we all ignore—is that we are too addicted, too weak, and too distracted to do what we all know is important.

We’re engaged in a war, and technology wields the heavy weapons. Willpower alone is not enough, he says. We need to construct what he calls “a fortress of habits."

I’ve concluded that a commitment to reading is an ongoing battle, somewhat like the battle against the seduction of Internet pornography. We have to build a fortress with walls strong enough to withstand the temptations of that powerful dopamine rush while also providing shelter for an environment that allows deep reading to flourish. Christians especially need that sheltering space, for quiet meditation is one of the most important spiritual disciplines.

Amen!

(pic is a photo sketch of my brother reading to his first grandson. We start fortress building VERY early in our family!)

Blessings,

My Antonia by Willa Cather

Ten years ago I read Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather and was underwhelmed. Several readers encouraged me to try My Ántonia. They also encouraged me to change my expectations and treat Cather's books less like novels and more like gorgeous word pictures of the American West. Their advice helped to make my second Cather title a rich experience.

Jim Burden is a ten year old orphan who moves to Nebraska to live with his grandparents. He meets a a family of Czech immigrants and forms a lifelong friendship with their daughter, Ántonia. Cather weaves together stories about Jim and "Tony's" families, adding in anecdotes of other settlers. Although Jim loves Ántonia, it is a many-faceted attachment (rather than just romantic attraction). Even when she marries, Jim continues to care deeply about her.

In addition to her powerful story-telling, Cather has a gift for fresh, lyrical prose. Jim describes the enthusiasm of a girl he took to a play: Everything was wonderful to her, and everything was true. It was like going to revival meetings with someone who was always being converted.

Near the end of the book, he meets Ántonia and sees that she has been battered by life. I was thinking, as I watched her, how little it mattered. I know so many women who have kept all things that she had lost, but whose inner glow has faded. Whatever else was gone, Ántonia had not lost the fire of life. She could still stop one's breath for a moment by a look or gesture that somehow revealed the meaning of common things. She had only to stand in the orchard, to put her hand on a little crabtree and look up at the apples, to make you feel the goodness of planting and tending and harvesting.

And this description: The rains had made channels of the wheel-ruts and washed them so deep that the sod had never healed over them. They looked like gashes torn by a grizzly's claws.

No, this is not a typical novel with plot twists and happy endings, but it was very satisfying to visit the Old West, to catch a glimpse of some of its first settlers, and to savor their beautifully-told story.

Blessings,


P.S. I listened to this via Audible's free quarantine downloads, but I see that YouTube has quite a few audio versions of it. It's also available via Kindle Free.

On Reading Well by Karen Swallow Prior

Many reviewers gave On Reading Well a lower rating because “Prior did not convince them to read any of the books.” But they missed the point. Prior was making the case for the Great Books as teachers of virtue and she does a fine job. The introductory chapter is worth the price of the book.

It is not enough to read widely. One must also read well. One must read virtuously. The word virtue has various shades of meaning, but in general, virtue can most simply be understood as excellence.

Reading virtuously means, first, reading closely, being faithful to both text and context, interpreting accurately and insightfully. Indeed, there is something in the very form of reading – the shape of the action itself – that tends toward virtue. The attentiveness necessary for deep reading (the kind we practice in reading literary works as opposed to skimming news stories or reading instructions) requires patience. The skills of interpretation and evaluation require prudence. Even the simple decision to set aside time to read in a world rife with so many other choices competing for our attention requires a kind of temperance.

Therefore, even as you seek books that you will enjoy reading, demand ones that make demands on you: books with sentences so exquisitely crafted that they must be reread, familiar words used in fresh ways, new words so evocative that you are compelled to look them up, and images and ideas so arresting that they return to you unbidden for days to come.

After the intro, Prior presents ten chapters, each one linking a specific virtue with a famous classic. Some novels teach by showing the protagonist making good choices (Christian demonstrating diligence in Pilgrim’s Progress). Others show the necessity of a particular virtue by showing characters who make bad choices (Jay Gatsby's lack of temperance). My favorite was the discussion of chastity based on Ethan Frome. When I read the book years ago, I was oblivious to many of the important themes that Prior brings out in her analysis.

I did not understand Silence by Shusako Endo any better after reading Prior’s chapter on faith, but I thoroughly enjoyed her insights into Anne Elliott’s patience and Huck Finn’s courage. And I gained a much greater appreciation for several books and authors that I had dismissed as “not my style,” especially Flannery O’Connor.

Blessings,

Nicholas Carr on "Printed books vs. E-Books"

I know I said I wasn't going to address this subject anymore (post here), but this quote is too good not to share:

A page of online text viewed through a computer screen may seem similar to a page of printed text. But scrolling or clicking through a Web document involves physical actions and sensory stimuli very different from those involved in holding and turning the pages of a book or a magazine. Research has shown that the cognitive act of reading draws not just on our sense of sight but also on our sense of touch. It's tactile as well as visual. "All reading," writes Anne Mangen, a Norwegian literary studies professor, "is multi-sensory. There's a crucial link between the sensory-motor experience of materiality, of a written work and the cognitive processing of the text content." The shift from paper to screen doesn't just change the way we navigate a piece of writing. It also influences the degree of attention we devote to it and the depth of our immersion in it. (p. 90 of The Shallows)

I have loved the ease of acquiring books through my Kindle (saving space, time and money), but have noticed a downturn in my ability to read deeply. I'm not yet ready to give up my e-reader, but am trying to make better choices about how often to use it.

Blessings,

Take and Read by Eugene Peterson

Author, pastor and theologian Eugene Peterson (1932-2018), has written a very dangerous book for Christian bibliophiles. If you love the Bible, the Church, Church history, deep thinking and beautiful writing, Take and Read offers a veritable sinkhole of books to add to your TBR list. (I added 135 titles to mine.)

Subtitled "an annotated list of spiritual reading," the book cites several hundred classics that strengthened Peterson's heart and influenced his thinking throughout his many years of ministry. Although I don't always agree with every point of  his theology, I appreciate his love for the Church and his gift for expressing spiritual truths in clear language.

Spiritual reading does not mean reading on spiritual or religious subjects, but reading any book that comes to hand in a spiritual way, which is to say, listening to the Spirit, alert to intimations of God. Reading today is largely a consumer activity. People devour books, magazines, pamphlets, and newspapers for information that will fuel their ambition or careers or competence. The faster the better, the more the better. It is either analytical, figuring things out; or it is frivolous, killing time. Spiritual reading is mostly a lover's activity - a dalliance with words, reading as much between the lines as in the lines themselves. It is leisurely, as ready to reread an old book as to open a new one. What follows is a list of books that require the lost art of SLOW reading.

In the chapter on Classics, he gives this tantalizing description of The Collected Works of John of the Cross: Virtually everyone who pursues the spiritual life expects to be rewarded with ecstasy. John has no patience with what he calls our "spiritual sweet tooth." He is a ruthless realist, stripping away the illusions, the fantasies, and the delusions, training us to discern the realities of faith.

In the chapter on prayer, he describes John Baillie's A Diary of Private Prayer: I find a cadenced and austere beauty in these morning and evening prayers. And a searing honesty. There is always a temptation in written prayer toward rhetorical flourish, grandstanding before the Almighty. These prayers guide us in a way of prayer that is simple, direct, and immediate.

I gobbled up the chapter on poetry since I am always on the lookout for meaty, theologically sound poems. And I hadn't read a single one of the books he mentions in his chapter on mystery novels so that sent me scurrying to Amazon. But even though I devoured this book, I don't expect to love all the titles mentioned (some writers lean toward liberal theology). I expect, however, to be nourished by a great number of them. I'm especially happy we'll be spending the next eight months in the U.S. where I'll have access to several wonderful libraries where I can search for many of these gems. Another happy note is that Take and Read is on sale for 99 cents till May 31st.

Blessings,

The Bird in the Tree by Elizabeth Goudge

There are two kinds of romantic love. One is the passionate emotion that leads you to say, "I do." The other is the unemotional choice that enables you to keep your promise even when the feelings come and go. In The Bird in the Tree, Elizabeth Goudge explores both types.

Nadine and David are deeply in love. Their passion for each other is the "truest" thing they know. But Lucilla, the matriarch of the family, isn't so sure that their marriage is a good idea. And she does her best to persuade then that there might be something truer.

As part of my resolution to read more deeply, I'm reading only physical books for the first few months of 2019. I've already seen a difference in my attention span! And also an increase in my overall enjoyment. The Bird in the Tree was splendid in every way: good writing, non-simplistic answers to life's problems, and believable characters (even the dogs are wonderfully "real").

Some delectable quotes:

In times of storm and tempest, of indecision and desolation, a book already known and loved makes better reading than something new and untried. The meeting with remembered and well-loved passages is like the continual greetings of old friends; nothing is so warming and companionable. (p. 266)

It was that declaration of Nadine's, that she wanted "to live her own life," that had exasperated Lucilla beyond anything else in the whole wretched business. It was a remark frequently on the lips of the modern generation, and it annoyed her. For whose lives, in the name of heaven, could they live except their own? Everyone must look after something in this world and why were they living their own lives if they looked after antique furniture, petrol pumps or parrots, and not when they looked after husbands, children or aged parents? (p. 83)

If you are familiar with Goudge, I don't need to extol her gifts, but if you aren't yet familiar with her novels, I suggest this trilogy (Bird in the Tree is Book One) or the stand-alone The Dean's Watch.

Blessings,

Benefits of Slow Reading

Earlier this year I had an "aha" moment and decided to slow down my reading pace. Here are a few quotes (with links to the full articles) that I've collected that might encourage you to do the same:

From the Desiring God website, David Mathis writes how he came to peace with his inability to speed read in "Do You Wish You Could Read Faster?"

I have found that I typically get out of reading what I put into it. When I read quick and thin, I access more information, but I suspect it makes me a thin thinker.

Veery Huleatt at First Things writes about how Dorothy Sayers helped her to slow down in "Where Her Whimsy Took Me."

I had graduated with, not only a reading list, but also some terrible reading habits. I had trained myself to gallop through books and journals, armed with multicolored hi-liter pens and a stack of Post-its. Technology had only accelerated my slide. Thanks to Google Books, I could ditch the hi-liters and give the impression of having painstakingly combed through a book with only a few minutes of scrolling. I had perfected the skill of tweaking, recasting, challenging, interpreting—a skill that had saved my life more than once in the over-caffeinated hours of early morning. But I had sold the soul of the literature for it.

Blessings,

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,

Another Quote on Deep Reading

From the Middle Ages until sometime after 1750, men read intensively. They had only a few books - the Bible, an almanac, a devotional work or two - and they read them over and over again, usually aloud and in groups, so that a narrow range of traditional literature became deeply impressed on their consciousness. By 1809 men were reading extensively. They read all kinds of material, especially periodicals and newspapers, and read it only once, and then raced on to the next item. 

- from the Gutenberg Elegies by Sven Birkerts

Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan

Once upon a time (when each household had only one or two books), Pilgrim's Progress was the most widely read book apart from the Bible. A Christian classic worthy of the name, it tells the story of Christian's journey from this sinful world to heaven and the heavy price one must pay to remain faithful. No wonder this title has gone out of fashion!

If I needed any proof that the internet has fried my brain, this book convinced me. I've read it three times in the last thirty years and I've never before struggled with the archaic language. This time my shortened attention span made it a struggle to plow through. Don't get me wrong. I still loved it, but I really had to make an effort to persevere to the end.

Occasionally I would compare my hard copy of the original to the updated version I found on Kindle. The newer version has four big advantages. First, the actual scriptures are included (rather than just the references). Second, the editor has taken the stilted dialogue and made the prose flow much more smoothly. Third, the original illustrations are included. (My version did not have them.) And, four, the updated version is divided into chapters. My hardcopy had no breaks, which added to my inability to feel like I was making headway.

If you've read this blog for any length of time, you know that I am no fan of dumbed-down language, but here the rich language is only slightly modified.

original: This miry slough is a place that cannot be mended; it is the descent whither the scum and filth that attends conviction for sin doth continually run, and therefore it is called the Slough of Despond; for still, as the sinner is awakened about his lost condition, there ariseth in his soul many fears, and doubts, and discouraging apprehensions, which all of them get together, and settle in this place. (p.16)

updated: This miry slough is a place that can't be repaired. It is a low-lying place where the scum and filth that come with the conviction of sin drains and collects as the traveling sinner becomes aware of his lost condition. It is the fears, doubts, and discouraging apprehensions about oneself that arise in his soul.

Some of my favorite lines -

[Hypocrites] do puzzle the world, blemish Christianity, and grieve the sincere. (p. 100)

Christian's response to prosperity preaching: You must also own religion in his rags, as well as in his silver slippers; and stand by him, too, when bound in irons, as well as when he walketh the streets with applause. (p. 119)

On pride: Let us not be tickled with thoughts of our own manhood. (p. 156)

There is a marvelous section on reasons for backsliding, one of them being, "they seem to be hot for heaven, so long as the flames of hell are about their ears, yet when that terror is a little over, they betake themselves to second thoughts." (182)

Amazon has three free versions: The slightly modernized version mentioned above, a children's version (which I have not read) and the original. For someone with no familiarity to the story in it's old-fashioned language, I highly recommend the newer edition. Every Christian should be familiar with this classic of English literature.

Quote on Deep Reading

A [difficult] passage prevents us from indulging our vulgar appetites for action, information and explanation - the fast food of fiction. It prevents us from leaping to conclusions, though it invites us to consider possibilities. It schools us in the very patience it demands. - from Caring for Words in a Culture of Lies by McEntyre

(C.S. Lewis states the same idea which I quote in this post from 2009.)

The Benefits of Serious Reading

"Cultivating a serious reading schedule is the best gift you can give yourself."

 Edie over at Life in Grace has a lovely post today on how what we read forms us (her reading list for 2014). There are some good thoughts and great quotes. Worth a look.

Moonwalking with Einstein by Joshua Foer

The subtitle of this book is “The Science of Remembering Everything” and I was hoping it would give me tips on how to memorize poetry and scripture.  It turned out to be the story of a journalist who spent a year training to participate in the U. S. Memory Championship, an Olympics-style event for mental athletes. The book is more memoir than training manual. 

So why am I recommending Moonwalking with Einstein? Because if you are mildly interested in the history of language or of education, you’ll find this book fascinating.  Have you ever wondered why the Bible was originally written down without punctuation?  Foer explains that early manuscripts were transcribed by men who had memorized their contents.  The words were not separated by spaces or punctuation because they were not meant to be read for understanding.  They were to be skimmed to remind the reader of what he already knew.

Since sight-reading scriptio continua was difficult, reciting a text aloud with fluency required a reader to have a degree of familiarity with it. . . . He had to prepare with it, punctuate it in his mind, memorize it - in part, if not in full – because turning a string of sounds into meaning was not something you could do easily on the fly.  The text had to be learned before it could be performed. (p. 224)

Interestingly, when the Bible was later published with chapter divisions and punctuation (and soon after with concordances), it assumed that the reader would be able to access certain passages WITHOUT having memorized them previously. We gained accessibility at the loss of total absorption.

As books became easier and easier to consult, the imperative to hold their contents in memory became less and less relevant, and the very notion of what it meant to be erudite began to evolve from possessing information internally to knowing where to find information in the labyrinthine world of external memory. (p. 231)

Now we put a premium on reading quickly and widely, and that breeds a kind of superficiality in our reading, and in what we seek to get out of books. . . .[Yet] if something is going to be made memorable, it has to be dwelled upon, repeated. (p. 233)

People used to read intensively.  They had only a few books – the Bible, an almanac, a devotional work or two – and they read they over and over again, usually aloud and in groups, so that a narrow range of traditional literature became deeply impressed on their consciousness.  (p. 234) But now with the profusion of printed material, they read extensively, and with very little retention.

Although, Moonwalking with Einstein did not meet my need for memorization tips, it did encourage me to pursue my goal of more focused concentration on poetic and biblical passages.

Quote on "Slow Reading" by Susan Hill

Susan Hill on the advantages of slow reading:

A strange competitiveness has emerged among some readers in the last few years.  I have known book-bloggers boast of getting through twenty books a week, as if they were trying for a place in The Guinness Book of Records.  Why has reading turned into a form of speed dating?  The best books deserve better.  Everything I am reading has so much to yield but only if I give it my full attention and respect by reading it slowly.  

Fast reading of a great novel will get us the plot.  It will get us names, a shadowy idea of characters, a sketch of settings.  It will not get us subtleties, small differentiations, depths of emotion and observation, multi-layered human experience, the appreciation of simile and metaphor, any sense of context, any comparison with other novels, other writers.  Fast reading will not get us cadence and complexities of style and language.  It will not get us anything that enters not just the conscious mind but the unconscious.  It will not allow the book to burrow down into our memory and become part of ourselves, the accumulation of knowledge and wisdom and vicarious experience which helps to form us as complete human beings.  It will not develop our awareness or add to the sumo of our knowledge and intelligence.

Read parts of a newspaper quickly or an encyclopedia entry, or a fast-food thriller, but do not insult yourself or a book which has been created with its author’s painstakingly acquired skill and effort, by seeing how fast you can dispose of it.

(Gleaned from Howards End Is on the Landing, pages 171-173)