Thursday, November 30, 2023

What I Read and Watched in November

When I'm overwhelmed, I do more movie viewing than book reading, so November was light on books. I finished the excellent Norms and Nobility by David Hicks, which is a marvelous book primarily about the fundamentals of classical education, but secondarily about what it takes to be a flourishing, virtuous society. (It's pricey so I'm glad my library had a copy.) Next came Women's Diaries of the Westward Journey, which I really liked after getting past the feminist intro and reading the actual diaries (last 1/5 of the book);  then came Rose-Garden Husband (a fluffy vintage novel), which fit the reading mood I was in. Edith Schaeffer's Hidden Art was not difficult reading, but my brain couldn't quite take it in.  
I enjoyed all the films I watched this month. We like the older Hitchcock movies because they are less grizzly and have a good dose of humor in them. Dan and I watched Foreign Correspondent (1940) and The Lady Vanishes (1938) on YouTube. On another date night we enjoyed I am David (2003) for its good acting and filming. By myself I watched the classic holiday film, The Shop Around the Corner, with the wonderful Jimmy Stewart. I also chuckled through Signed, Sealed and Delivered for Christmas.

Ever have months when reading just seems impossible? With less deadlines in December, I'm hoping to improve! 

Blessings,

Thursday, November 23, 2023

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,

Thursday, November 9, 2023

Miracles on Maple Hill by Virginia Sorenson

I started Miracles on Maple Hill many years ago and couldn't get past the heaviness of the first few chapters (which didn't seem appropriate for a children's book). BUT I kept hearing good things about it and am glad that I gave it another try. 

As soon as the story begins, we sense that something is not quite right with Marly's father. We learn later that he was a prisoner of war during WWII and returned with PTSD symptoms. Her mother is moving Marly (age 10), her father, and her older brother Joe to live in the country to aid her father in his recovery. Marly is hoping that the present stresses of her family life will be relieved by this change, but she has no idea of the many good things that are coming her way. 

The word "miracles" in this story can easily be translated as the acts of kindness that bring comfort and peace to this hurting family. This abundance of grace is conveyed through kind neighbors, the beauty of the changing seasons and even, on occasion, from Marly's brother who normally doesn't have time to bother with her. 

This was the 1957 Newbery winner so it assumes that kids were semi-literate and would understand references to Thumbellina, Joseph in the Bible, Shakespeare, etc. It also gives a gentle nod to differences between males and females, which I found refreshing, but which I know would not be acceptable in present-day stories. It also treats kids with respect by not talking down to them about hard subjects. Living in the country Marly discovers some hard realities about life and death. Why are their poisonous plants and mushrooms in the midst of so much glorious beauty? 

Though written for children, I got some strong Wendell Berry vibes with regard to rootedness and the healing power of community. Yes, the beginning is heavy, but it sets up the stage for the miracles that will need to happen to restore Marly's family. It is a beautifully told story and I loved the gentle way it teaches kids that though life can be hard, it can also be very good.

Blessings,