Recommended Poetry Books

As a follow-up to last week's post on the importance of poetry, I'm linking to some of my favorite poetry books. 

I always say that the best poetry primer for someone who has no clue where to start is Robert Louis Stevenson's A Child's Garden of Verses. The poems are light and lyrical without being too sing-song-y. Even as an adult, I continue to delight in them and have put quite a few to memory. (I've linked to the Kindle Free version, but there are many beautifully illustrated hard copies to choose from when buying one for your personal library.) I extol the glories of one his poems in this post.

I created a list of poetry books especially for children here. A decade after I wrote that post, I discovered the lovely Sing a Song of Seasons, which for a modern book has an amazingly small amount of tripe. (I reviewed it here).

Of course, poetry must be read aloud for you to be able to appreciate its cadences so I highly recommend this audio recording of 81 Famous Poems. (Reviewed here.) Sadly, no corresponding book is available, but there is a similar book of classic poetry, Best-Loved Poems, that I reviewed here.

Finally, if you already love poetry and are ready for something a bit meatier, I highly recommend these two books of devotional poetry: Poems of Faith (Dover publications, not the Helen Steiner Rice title) and The Oxford Book of Christian Verse -1940. (Don't pay any attention to the Amazon price; I found it at a used book store for $5.) Of the two, Poems of Faith is a bit easier, but the OBCV is one of the most treasured books in my entire library. 

Let me know if you've enjoyed any of these or if you have a favorite book of poetry that is not mentioned here.

Blessings,

Why Poetry by Matthew Zapruder

I love poetry, and am always interested in how and why it can leave us speechless with astonishment. Anna Quindlen once wrote, People who are knowledgeable about poetry sometimes discuss it in that knowing, rather hateful way in which oenophiles talk about wine: robust, delicate, muscular. This has nothing to do with how most of us experience it, the heart coming around the corner and unexpectedly running into the mind.

When I saw Zapruder’s book on Kindle Unlimited, I was eager to see what he had to contribute to the discussion. I was delighted with his opening sally that Poetry isn’t in any danger, and never has been. And I’m quite sure there will be poetry as long as there are people who can speak, and probably even after. [And this delightful jab:] Probably even robots will write it, just as soon as they get souls.

The central question of the book is how poetry creates a heightened sense of awareness (what Zapruder calls “a poetic state of mind.”) It happens through the form of the poem, which guides the mind of a reader. It happens through leaps of association. And it happens as the poem explores and activates and plays with the nature of language itself.

He contends that there is no such thing as poetic language. The words used in poetry are every day words, but their energy comes primarily from the reanimation and reactivation of the language we recognize and know. In poetry, we see how language can be made deliberately strange, how it becomes “difficult” in order to jar us awake. One of the ways that poetry reanimates language is in its use of unexpected associations or metaphors. (Like when Emily Dickinson calls a snake a “whip-lash” or when Richard Crashaw writes that “Graves are beds now for the weary.”)

He also insists that poetry is not a secret code, and that it is not written to be deliberately elusive or obscure. (I would agree up to a point since I find most modern poetry to be purposefully vague. Ironically, the second half of the book is filled with examples of modern poems, which Zapruder painstakingly explains because otherwise they make no sense.)

In general, says, Zapruder, poetry requires no special knowledge, only attention. The meaning of the poem resides on the page, and is available to an attentive reader. Paying attention is essential and this close reading of the text is essential not only for literary enjoyment, but he would add, it’s necessary for survival in this modern world. The more we are colonized by our devices and the “information” and “experiences” that they supposedly deliver, the more we need a true experience of unmonetized attention.

The first half of the book was helpful and insightful; he detours off a few times to decry the evils of climate change, terrorism, inequality, environmental issues, etc. which didn’t seem to have anything to do with the topic. And, as I wrote above, the second half had many examples of difficult poetry that, instead of encouraging people to read it, would scare them off permanently. Still, I enjoyed gaining insights into how poetry makes its impact, and look forward to continuing my journey toward understanding it better.

Blessings,

Pages from a WII Chaplain's Diary by Clarence E. Walstad

I am a huge fan of WWII memoirs and was delighted to recently discover Pages from a WWII Chaplain’s Diary.   

At 40 years of age, successful Lutheran pastor, Clarence Walstad, enlisted in the army as a chaplain, leaving behind his wife and their three young children. These are the touching letters he writes to Ruth describing his 2 ½ years of army life.

The overriding theme of the letters is his desire for the men in his outfit to come to saving faith in Christ. As his ship nears North Africa, he writes: (4/14/43) The morale of the men is good. Wonderful facilities are provided to keep them occupied. They have access at all times to shelves of books, magazines, parlor games, several pianos, victrolas, etc. But ultimately, morale must depend, not on escape mechanisms, but upon the ‘soul that is fixed on God’ by faith.

One of his early assignments was to work in a hospital unit in Morocco connected to a German and Italian POW camp. In July of 1943, he tells a poignant story of playing his autoharp in his office and having the men in the hospital tents begin to sing along with him. Many of these POWs understand a little English, he wrote. All could follow the music. Because many of the Lutheran hymns he knew had been translated from the German, some prisoners joined in the singing in their own language. We harmonized on “Fairest Lord Jesus”, “Oh, Sacred Head now Wounded”, “When I Survey”, and then ended up by singing “Silent Night” in five languages. Several of them broke down as the familiar strains floated out on the night air. Afterward I spoke to them a little to say that though we are enemies there are some things we all have in common: home, mother, God and the love of Jesus, who came to earth that Christmas Eve. Poor lads, they too believe in the cause for which they have been suffering in this malaria infested hole, for almost two years.

Later he is attached to army units in France and Germany where the men are fighting and he has little opportunity for church services. I was complaining to my boys today that there just isn’t an awful lot a chaplain can do here these days as it is suicide to gather men in groups. But one of the fellows spoke up and said, “Chaplain, just seeing you around when the shells are flying, is a help.” One of the soldiers attached to that unit spoke of it as “an awesome sight to see that big man (6’4”) crawling from foxhole to foxhole with a message of comfort and encouragement from the Lord to frightened and anxious soldiers during the heat of battle.”

Walstad’s devotion to his calling, his unstinting acts of service, and his cheerful acceptance of hardships made for heartwarming letters that bolstered my faith.  Without a doubt, this will be one of my favorite books of the year.

Blessings,

Family Sabbatical by Carol Ryrie Brink

I read Caddie Woodlawn to my boys when they were young, but was unfamiliar with Brink’s other books until I saw the Ridgeway Family titles available through Kindle Unlimited. I enjoyed the first book, Family Grandstand, immensely because it showed a regular family with its ups and down. Since it was written in the 1950’s the kids were expected to be respectful to each other and to their parents no matter how grumpy they were feeling. (What a novel idea!!) Although there was the underlying expectation that they would be well-behaved, they got into plenty of scrapes and were never sickeningly sweet. I enjoyed every bit of it.

I wasn’t so sure about the second book, Family Sabbatical, because the first half was rather silly. Professor Ridgeway has taken his family to France for six months so that he can do research. The kids must adapt to living in hotels and are horrified when their father hires a governess to teach them French. They end up teaching her a lot of American slang and learn next to nothing. Then they have a Halloween party complete with a house of horrors. I was okay with that, but not thrilled.

The second half, however, completely made up for the first. To avoid spoilers, I will just say that the youngest sibling loses one of her precious treasures and the other two children do their best to console and comfort her. All this happens at Christmas time so there are a lot of sweet moments. There’s even a mysterious princess living in their hotel. It was “magical” without any spells or potions. In every sentence Brink conveys the beauty of imagination and of self-giving love. I shed quite a few tears over those last chapters.

Highly recommended if you are fans of family fiction such as All-of-a-Kind Family, Betsy and Tacy, and the Little House books.

(I am just sorry that the newest book covers for this series are so hideous!)

P.S. This title is also available at Internet Archive.

Blessings,

The Riddle of the Sands by Erskine Childers

I have long heard of The Riddle of the Sands as one of the first thrillers, and was intrigued that the British newspaper, The Guardian, has listed it as one of the best ten spy novels of all time. I may have even tried to read it before, but got lost in the technical information about sailing. Listening to the audiobook made all the difference.

The book begins with Charles Carruthers, a bored young man looking for a way to fill up his vacation time before going back to work in the Foreign Office. He receives a message from Arthur Davies, a university acquaintance, inviting him on a yachting holiday in the Baltic Sea. When he arrives with all of his baggage, he discovers that the “yacht” is a tiny disheveled boat and that the holiday is not going to be at all as he expected. In fact, he and Davies are in for the adventure of their lives.

As they explore the Frisian Islands off the coast of Germany, they stumble upon some suspicious activities that seem to point to a possible German invasion of England. (As I read, I assumed, of course, that this novel was written during WWI or WWII, but was surprised to discover it was written in 1903 at a time when nobody considered that a possibility. No wonder it was a thriller!)

I could not put this book down. It’s a good thing my husband was travelling while I listened because I would have ignored him for the three days that I carried my cell phone around with me to finish it. The narration by Anton Lesser was stellar. His inflections were outstanding. When the dialogue called for whispering, heavy breathing, dry wit, male/female voices, or foreign accents, he did it all with perfection. He had me hanging on every word – even the “boring” bits about boating!

I was intrigued not only by the book but by its author’s interesting history. He was born in London in 1870, grew up in England, and served in the Second Boer War (1899-1902). Later he became disenchanted with British Imperialism and became involved in Irish republicanism (a movement to free Ireland from British rule), even smuggling guns into Ireland in 1914. Although he served England during WW1, he was later blacklisted by the British for his support of the IRA, even being called “the mischief-making murderous renegade” by Winston Churchill. In the end, he was shot by a firing squad, not for his anti-British activities, but for being caught carrying a pistol, which was in violation of the Emergency Powers Resolution. He was fifty-two years old.

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

The Common Rule by Justin Whitmel Earley

There are lots of books about spiritual disciplines, but this one is unique because it addresses the use of digital media head on. When our phones take up so much of our time, how do we, as Christians, create healthy habits around them?  

Justin Whitmel Earley encourages four daily habits and four weekly habits that are designed to draw us closer to God and wean us away from dependence on social media for affirmation and dopamine hits. The daily habits are 1) Kneel for prayer three times a day, 2) Eat one meal with others, 3) Spend one hour with your cellphone off, 4) Read Scripture before turning on your phone.

The weekly habits are 1) Spend one hour of conversation with a friend, 2) Curate your media (movies/videos) to four hours, 3) Fast from something for 24 hours, and 4) Keep the Sabbath.

The chapter on Daily Habit #3 (Turn of your phone for one hour a day) was the most important chapter in the book for me, not because I don’t already limit my cell phone use, but because it gave good theological reasons for continuing to do so. Presence is the essence of life itself. It’s at the heart of who we are because presence is at the core of our relationship with God. From creation to salvation, the story of the Bible is fundamentally a story of presence. Eden was Eden because the unmediated presence of God was there. God was with Adam and Eve till sin broke the bliss of that presence. After they sinned, Adam and Eve wanted to cover their nakedness and hide. This is the hallmark of life as we know it now.  We hide from each other and we hide from God. We long for the face of God, but we can’t bear his gaze either. Sin has turned a people meant for presence into a people of absence. Fortunately, the story of the Bible doesn’t end there. God in His mercy still pursues His rebellious children.

Although I appreciated this book very much, I found parts of it to be annoying (Earley’s bragging about how good he is at speaking Chinese was one example). Also, the subtitle of this book could have been “Spiritual Disciplines for Social Justice Warriors” because of how often he tacked on social justice issues to each discipline. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVED his emphasis on spiritual disciplines that are rooted in the two commandments to “Love God and love your neighbor.” What better motivation can you have for getting off your phone than to be fully present to those around you and to pursue the goals that God has put into your heart to fulfill His purposes?

But some of the ways he prescribes to do that are just plain odd. In the chapter on curating your media time, he strongly suggests that you watch things that show the injustice in the world so that you can feel miserable about it. But feeling bad about injustice is not biblical justice. (See Voddie Baucham's explanation of the difference in this video.)

Anyway, this book stretched me in a lot of ways and I'm glad I read it. Any thoughts?

Blessings,