Fairy Tales and the Cosmos - quote by G.K. Chesterton

My last post was about how fairy tales prepared G.K. Chesterton's heart to recieve the gospel. Here is one of the choice quotes: 

Cinderella had a glass slipper, and it cannot be a coincidence that glass is so common a substance in folk-lore. This princess lives in a glass castle, that princess on a glass hill; this one sees all things in a mirror; they may all live in glass houses if they will not throw stones. For this thin glitter of glass everywhere is the expression of the fact that happiness is bright but brittle, like the substance most easily smashed by a housemaid or a cat. And this fairy-tale sentiment also sank into me and became my sentiment towards the whole world. I felt and feel that life itself is as bright as the diamond, but as brittle as the window-pane; and when the heavens were compared to the terrible crystal, I can remember a shudder. I was afraid that God would drop the cosmos with a crash.

(from page 86 of Orthodoxy)

Blessings,

Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton

G.K. Chesterton is one of the great thinkers of the 20^th century, but sometimes his brilliance can be blinding, and I struggle to grasp his meanings. That certainly hasn’t kept me from trying (as my book log of 17 of his titles shows!)

Chesterton is best remembered for responding to the famous skeptics of his day (George Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde, and Frederick Nietzsche, to name a few) with his hard-hitting yet witty counter-arguments against their staunch atheism. Orthodoxy, his best-known rebuttal, outlines his reasons for embracing Christian truths. His principal reason was that Christianity is the only religion that gives a sane explanation for this world. But he is quick to say that it is more than a conglomeration of right opinions: I will not call it my philosophy; for I did not make it. God and humanity made it; and it made me.

One quote from the book has stayed with me for many weeks. What we suffer from today is humility in the wrong place. Modesty had moved from the organ of ambition and has settled upon the organ of conviction, where it was never meant to be. A man was meant to be doubtful about himself, but undoubting about the truth; this has been exactly reversed. Nowadays the part of a man that a man does assert is exactly the part that he ought not to assert – himself. The part he doubts is exactly the part he ought not to doubt – the Divine Reason. This seems to define so much of the thinking I see in our culture (i.e. the triumph of self-delusion over clear biblical precepts).

Chesterton’s sense of wonder and “joie de vivre” keep his writings from being too didactic. I especially loved Chapter 4 on how fairy tales shaped his heart to believe in God. I had always believed that the world involved magic; now I thought that perhaps it involved a magician. Later he remarks, I left the fairy tales on the nursery floor and have not found any books so sensible since. (!)

His closing chapter was on the healthful confines of Christianity. Within its supposedly constricting limits, there is unrestricted joy. He writes, Catholic doctrine and discipline may be walls, but they are the walls of a playground. He writes beautifully of the freedom and exhilaration of knowing one’s Creator and of knowing one’s purpose as His creatures (as opposed to the despair of nihilism.)

I’ll leave you with one final quote by G.K. on the Trinity: It is indeed a fathomless mystery of theology. Suffice it to say that this triple enigma is as comforting as wine and as open as an English fireside; this thing that bewilders the intellect utterly quiets the heart.

This was my bedtime book for many months. I read two to three pages per night because that was all my brain could handle. But I think Chesterton is better read in small, well-chewed bites. It doesn’t do to read him in a hurry. 

Blessings,

Green Dolphin Street by Elizabeth Goudge

Green DolphinStreet is the story of two sisters who live in the Channel Islands in the mid-1800s. Marguerite and Marianne couldn’t be more different. Marguerite (like her name "daisy") is cheerful and carefree, ready to drink in whatever joys life has to offer. Marianne is less beautiful and much less easily pleased. But she has a thirst for knowledge and for experiences that make her sturdier and more dependable in times of trouble.

Her parents were much exercised over this brain of Marianne’s and were doing their best to repress it within ladylike proportions. But Marrianne wouldn’t be interested in sensible things like crewel work and water-color painting and duet playing on the pianoforte with her little sister Marguerite, even though she did all these things superlatively well. That was the trouble with Marianne, she did them too well, and her restless intellect reached out beyond them to things like mathematics and the politics of the Island parliament, farming, fishing, and sailing, knowledge that was neither attractive nor necessary in a woman and would add nothing whatever to her chances of attracting a suitable husband…

Marianne and Marguerite fall in love with the same young man, William Ozanne. I can’t tell you which one he chooses, but I can say that this novel is no fluffy romance. Instead it’s about the high cost of loving. The original title was “Green Dolphin Country,” which was more appropriate because each character in the book is yearning to find their own “country”, the place where they feel most at home. Some look for this in the love of another person. Others seek it in adventurous places. But all of them learn that this longed-for fulfillment comes at a very high price – death to self. Elizabeth Goudge is a master at this type of story. She writes of flawed people who through their disappointments learn to love in richer ways. Self-giving love is the key to finding their “country,” their native soil.

Goudge is not only a master of writing deeply, she also writes beautifully. Here is a description of the Mother Abess’ room in a convent: In spite of its austerity the room was not cold. It was very beautiful in its simplicity, and Marguerite within the flushed white walls felt as though she were inside a mother-of-pearl shell.

And this description of a loving kiss: It neither promised nor gave security, it was rather a dedication of themselves in comradeship to the danger and pain of living.

I started this book carefully noting passages that I wanted to highlight here on my blog, but ditched that as soon as I became engrossed in the story. When I came down to earth near the end of the book, I finally stopped to underline many beautiful paragraphs. By that time, I didn’t care if I ever blogged about this book or not. I was just glad to have experienced it. My copy is almost 500 pages long so it’s not an easy read, but if you like a well-told story, you’ll be glad to make the effort.

 Blessings,

"Adventures Among Books" by Andrew Lang

Andrew Lang (1844-1912) was a journalist, novelist and literary critic, who is most remembered for the twelve volumes of fairy tales that he did in collaboration with his wife. (Ten of them are free for Kindle as well as dozens of other books he wrote.) Knowing his literary bent, I was intrigued to see this collection of essays on bookish subjects. I will be highlighting only the first essay, which was by far my favorite in the book.

Lang calls this essay his literary biography saying that he has a much easier time remembering books than he does people. He writes, Some are soldiers from the cradle, some merchants, some orators; nothing but the love of books was the gift given to me by the fairies.

From an early age he was surrounded by books and those who loved to read them. He remembers “reading” Midsummer Night’s Dream as a small boy in a candlelit room where someone was playing the piano; he was sitting by the fire looking at an edition with pictures of fairies in it. The fairies seemed to come out of Shakespeare’s dream into the music and the firelight… It seemed an enchanted glimpse of Paradise.

At age four he began to teach himself to read by picking out the words and letters of a poem he had heard so often that he had it memorized: Elegy on the Death andBurial of Cock Robin. At age nine, he read his first novel, which was Jane Eyre. This was a creepy tale for a boy of nine, and Rochester was a mystery, St. John a bore. But the lonely girl in her despair, when something came into her room, and her days of starvation at school, and the terrible first Mrs. Rochester, were never to be forgotten.

He tells how he hated Greek until he discovered Homer. The very sound of the hexameter, that long, inimitable roll of the most various music, was enough to win the heart, even if the words were not understood. But the words proved unexpectedly easy to understand, full as they are of all nobility, all tenderness, all courage, courtesy, and romance…. After once being initiated into the mysteries of Greece by Homer, the work of Greek was no longer tedious.

He summarizes his love of all things Greek by writing, We cannot find any wisdom more wise than that which bids us do what men may and bear what men must. Such are the lessons of the Greeks, of the people who tried all things, in the morning of the world, and who still speak to us of what they tried in words which are the sum of human gaiety and gloom, of grief and triumph, hope and despair. The world, since their day, has but followed in the same round, which only seems new: has only made the same experiments and failed with the same failure, but less gallantly and less gloriously.

“AdventuresAmong Books” was written in 1872 when Lang was still a young man. Near the end of the essay, he writes about how he became interested in folklore and anthropology. Little did he know that his most memorable life’s work would grow out of that interest. The first “Fairy Book” was published in 1889.

Blessings,

The Franchise Affair by Josephine Tey

What if you were accused of a crime that you did not commit when the accuser had all the evidence against you, and you had nothing to prove your innocence? That is the premise of The Franchise Affair by Josephine Tey. Though it is the third novel in the Inspector Grant series, he plays only a small part.

The “star” of this book is Robert Blair, a small-town lawyer who has spent his life in moderate tranquility, living with a maiden aunt, playing golf on his off hours, and working mostly with people who want their wills written. As the novel opens, he is sitting down to his habitual afternoon tea: At 3:50 on every working day Miss Tuff bore into his office a lacquer tray covered with a fair white cloth and bearing a cup of tea in blue-patterned china, and, on a plate to match, two biscuits.

Suddenly the monotony rankles him. “Isn’t there more to life?” he wonders. Within moments he receives a desperate phone call from a woman he has never met pleading with him to help prove her innocence. His life changes abruptly as he is drawn into the troubles of Marion Sharpe and her elderly mother who have been accused of kidnapping a 15-year-old girl.

The rest of the novel shows Robert acting as amateur sleuth, following up every possible lead to discover the truth. With all the evidence against them, the reader sometimes wonders if the Sharpe women are lying to him, which adds to the tension of the story. Though most of the townspeople turn against Marion and her mother, there is a rich cast of characters who risk their standing in the community to support them and they do their best to help Robert solve the case.

The characters are well drawn and the writing is lovely. There is a hint of romance, but it takes a back seat to the mystery. I liked this book when I read it a few years ago, but I loved it this time around because of the excellent audiobook narrated by Karen Cass.  

This was an especially timely read because it shows how trusting people can be of the media, never questioning if something in print might be true or not. Tey is not heavy-handed about this, but it is interwoven into the story in a way that kept me chuckling throughout.

A very unusual mystery!

Blessings

The Literary Lives of the Inklings by Philip and Carol Zaleski

My greatest challenge in reviewing this 500-page book (600 if you count the endnotes) is knowing what quotations to leave out since the whole thing was so wonderfully written.

Philip and Carol Zaleski have given us a great gift with their painstaking research on each of the major inklings (J.R.R. Tolkien, C.S. Lewis, Charles Williams and Owen Barfield) and how their lives and writings intertwined. The name “Inklings”, according to Tolkien, was little more than a “pleasantly ingenious pun suggesting people with vague or half-formed intimations and ideas, plus those who dabble in ink.” But History would record that, however modest their pretensions, their inkblots were no mere dabblings.

The group came together at a strategic time. WWI had left many in despair, but in others it had instilled a longing to reclaim the goodness, beauty, and cultural continuity that had been so violently disrupted. The Inklings came together because they shared that longing; they believed, as did their literary and spiritual ancestors, that ours is a fallen world yet not a forsaken one, which was a belief that set them at odds with many of their contemporaries. Lewis described the Inklings to Williams as “a group of Christians who like to write.” The Zaleskis add that they shared more common characteristics than that including intellectual vivacity, love of myth, conservative politics, memories of war, and a passion for beef, beer, and verbal battle.

The book highlights the idiosyncrasies of each member of the group beginning with Tolkien’s rapid, slurring, unintelligible lectures, which students endured because, as one student remarked, “Tolkien could turn a lecture into a mead hall in which he was the bard and we were the feasting, listening guest. Speaking in Anglo-Saxon turned Tolkien’s leaden tongue to gold.” I was particularly interested in the details of Charles Williams' life because of C.S. Lewis' glowing accounts of him in his letters. The Zaleski's paint quite a different picture of him as a very strange man!

They also describe the periodic friction between the members, particularly Tolkien’s impatience with Williams because he disliked William’s fiction, but also because he distrusted Williams’ fascination with the occult. Lewis and Barfield disagreed often (and strongly) on the principles of anthroposophy. At times Tolkien and Lewis clashed in their literary views, but their friendship endured through the decades. When Lewis died, Tolkien wrote, “So far I have felt the normal feelings of a man of my age – like an old tree that is losing all its leaves one by one, but this feels like an axe-blow near the roots.”

Of course, in 500 pages, you are bound to find lots more information (trivia?) than in other books. It was fun to read that some of the early reviews of The Lord of the Rings called it “juvenile trash” and “an overgrown fairy story” (!)

According to the Zaleskis, By the time the last inkling passed away on the eve of the 21^st century, the group had altered, in large or small measure, the course of imaginative literature, Christian theology and philosophy, comparative mythology, and the scholarly study of the Beowulf author, of Dante, Spenser, Milton, courtly love, fairy tale, and epic; and drawing as much from their scholarship as from their experiences of a catastrophic century, they had fashioned a new narrative of hope amid the ruins of war, industrialization, cultural disintegration, skepticism, and anomie.

For three months this was my bed-time book, and it brought me many hours of pleasure.

Blessings, 

Worthwhile Movie #23 - The Quiet Man (1952)

BBC period dramas and classic black-and-white films are my entertainment of choice, but it has taken me a few years to learn to appreciate John Wayne. I thought he was good in The Searchers and okay in 3 Godfathers. The first hint that I had of his charisma and charm was in Stagecoach, but the other Wayne movies I’ve watched seemed like run-of-the-mill westerns.

When Anthony Esolen featured The Quiet Man as his film-of-the-week (Substack newsletter), I decided to give Wayne another try. I had seen the movie many years ago and thought it a pleasant bit of romantic fluff, but Esolen gave me eyes to look at it in a new way. He said that the movie is actually about quietness. 

He writes, Prizefighter Sean Thornton, an Irish-American living in Pittsburgh, has killed his opponent in the ring. It’s an accident, but Sean can’t accept that. So Sean will never fight again, but instead moves back to the old family homestead in a village in Ireland, to farm and pick up the rest of his life, as a peaceful man. He’s made a vow never to throw a punch again. That’s what he intends, but sometimes a man has to fight, regardless of what he’d like, especially if he is fighting for something — or someone — he loves.

In addition to the excellent acting by both Wayne (playing Sean Thornton), Maureen O’Hara (playing Mary Kate Danaher) and the rest of the cast, the scenery is gorgeous and John Ford’s filming is stunning. Mary Kate and Sean fall in love, but his refusal to fight for something that she believes to be her right, gets their relationship off to a rocky start.

Esolen concludes his essay, In many ways, The Quiet Man is a film for those who believe in marriage and who know that what men and women do is that staggering and monumental thing, so closely related to tending the soil with love and care: they make children. The dialogue is priceless, yet it all seems perfectly natural, not stylized. We like everybody in The Quiet Man, even granite-jawed old Will Danaher, and there are gestures in the film that are unforgettable for a kind of down-to-earth nobility that I can’t find so well expressed in any other film except for John Ford’s own How Green Was My Valley. Ford was a poet of scene and dialogue and music, and of silences that are more filled with meaning than any words can be. But above all, when you watch this film, have fun! And thank God for the two great sexes that animate the world, because if it weren’t for them, where would we be? 

The only free version of the film is a video tape transfer at Internet Archive. If you watch the movie, you will greatly appreciate reading this article about the film AFTER you view it. I loved it, but I'm glad I didn't read it first because of all the spoilers.

Blessings,

Is Kindle Unlimited Worth It?

A few years ago, I gave Kindle Unlimited a try, but wasn't too impressed. Of the thirteen books I read, only four were memorable. In the years that followed, I would occasionally see a book I was interested in offered as a KU title and I began a KU list "just in case" I ever signed up for it again. Two years later I had a bit more success and read several excellent books including Tech-Wise Family, Trojan Mouse and quite a few D.E. Stevenson titles.

When I saw "three months of KU for 99 cents" last December, I took the plunge again. Because of my curated list, I didn't have to waste time on mediocre books. (Be aware that some of their titles come and go, but others are always there.) Yes, there were a few duds, but for the most part, I really enjoyed my recent foray into KU-land. These were my favorites: 

Light fiction: The Wayne Family trilogy by Elizabeth Cadell (reviewed here), Family Grandstand and Family Sabbatical by Caroly Ryrie Brink (of Caddie Woodlawn fame, both reviewed here)

Heavier reading: Ascent to Love - A Guide to Dante's Divine Comedy by Leithart. Extremely helpful commentary for people like me who are clueless when it comes to Dante, but would like to learn. I also took advantage of Gerald J. Davis' translation of Paradiso because I was struggling with the more stilted version that I was using. 

                         

Excellent non-fiction: O Come Ye Back to Ireland, and Pages from a WWII Chaplain's Diary (easily one of my favorite books of the year). Speaking of which, they have many WWII P.O.W. memoirs, which are just my cup of tea.

A surprisingly good (but heavy) novel was The Words Between Us by Erin Bartel. It's a love story about books, but also about very broken people.

I also appreciated being able to leaf through some beautiful magazines like "Vintage Cottage," and peruse several clean eating cookbooks, especially 100 Days of Real Food on a Budget.

If you like light reading that isn't pure fluff, KU has many D.E. Stevenson and Miss Read titles. And the wonderful British mysteries compiled by Martin Edwards (21 books on the list are available via KU.)

Their audiobook options were pretty trashy, so I can't recommend anything there. Still, once every few years, I will probably look for the year-end deal and sign up for it again. The only downside to the deal was that I felt pressured to read as much as possible during the three-month offer (as if 99 cents was a lot of money!) and had to force myself to slow down and savor the books. I was not always successful at that.

In all, I read 20 books (half fiction and half non-fiction) and was pleasantly surprised at the gems I discovered. Has anyone else every tried it? Any recommendations?

Blessings,

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, 

The Wayne Family Trilogy by Elizabeth Cadell

Elizabeth Cadell (1903-1989) was a British writer of light, clean love stories. Usually I'm not a fan of straight romance novels, but occasionally I'll read one to take a break from heavier fare. This series was unexpectedly delightful.

In the first book, The Lark Shall Sing, Lucille Wayne has decided to sell the family home, and her decision brings her five siblings from near and far to protest the action. The mayhem that ensues is hilarious. Cadell does a wonderful job of describing each sibling, and I couldn't help loving Julia, bibliophile and "ugly duckling" of the family. There is a fairytale quality to the story with characters who appear "out of the blue" to help make the satisfying resolution possible; I enjoyed both Pietro and Miss Cornhill as much as the regular members of the Wayne family. The inevitable romance was not front and center.

The second book, The Blue Sky of Spring, takes place a year later and its tone is not as jovial. In fact, instead of the family antics of the first book, this one includes a mystery regarding a spinster who dies suddenly after trying to change her will. A romance is predominant, but not annoyingly so. It was a pleasure to spend more time with each member of the family, watching them grow through the stresses and strains of their shared lives. 

The third and final book, Six Impossible Things, happens ten years later, which allows you to see young Julia all grown up. She has just returned from Italy where she has been studying piano under the famous "Albano". Nicholas, her older brother, fails to see how she has bloomed from an awkward youngster into a charming young woman. A large part of the story is their growing understanding of each other. Yes, there is the requisite romance, but quite a lot of other subplots as well. I loved the emphasis on community and the ties that bind people together. 

The only downside to the series was the occasional light swearing, but that did not keep me from enjoying the many afternoons I spent with the wild and wonderful Waynes. (I read these books through my Kindle Unlimited subscription, which I got for three months for 99 cents!)

Blessings,

Love as a Choice - quote by Jan Karon

Father Tim reflects on the long journey it has been to earn the love and trust of a "discarded" boy.

I had to love [Dooley] when he threw his shoe at the wall and  cussed my dog, love him when he called me names I won’t repeat, love him when he refused to eat what I’d cooked after celebrating and preaching at three Sunday services…. You get the idea. I enjoyed the warm feelings, the stuff of the heart, when it was present between us, as it sometimes was, even in the beginning. But when it wasn’t, there was the will to love him, something like a generator kicking in, a backup.

Excerpt from In the Company of Others, p. 261

I love that simile. When the "power's out" (our own human strength), God gives us the resources to keep on giving and loving.

(Photo by Gabriella Clare Marino at Unsplash)

Blessings,