Fresh White Linen

This grey Sunday, a few thoughts on my latest.

44. Angle of Repose by Wallace Stegner. A monumental book. I remain supremely impressed at the mastery of the craft Stegner shows in his writing. This book took me a little while to sink into, but once I did? I was very much absorbed in the story of Susan Beecher Ward and of her marriage to Oliver Ward. For truly as much as her story is central to this tale, so too the story of the marriage of Susan and Oliver is that which holds center stage and providing a through-line around which all else rotates. I am of two minds about this book and in some ways find myself incapable of conclusively saying I love this book. While I can most certainly acknowledge the greatness of the prose in this one (so many individual lines and paragraphs were pure poetry, words simply leaping off the page in their unadorned beauty), I’m not quite sure if I entirely appreciate the framing device Stegner uses. Unfortunately I can’t entirely recommend it removed either, as I understand Stegner is attempting to analyze a character from a distance and he well uses the character of the narrator (Lyman Ward) to contrast and highlight both the alienness and beauty of Susan Ward and I am not sure the story of Susan would work quite as well in isolation. Yet, I did find myself quickly turning the pages whenever we were back to the present day. Capping it off, I found the grotesquerie and hazy dream space of Lyman’s own moment of truth a bit too pat in the light of the grandeur and tragedy of what we’ve just experienced in the life of Susan Ward. Yes, the last line of this book was perfect, I will acknowledge that. And the themes of forgiveness and reconciliation are such strong ones!! That last line, for real. So perhaps this book is truly a great one, as much as parts of it break my heart. Tragedy looms over much of this book and one wonders when the storm will break. It is near the end when finally all is revealed and it is worse than I could have imagined. Still though. Despite the tears and sadness, I did love witnessing in such intimacy the lives and marriage of Susan and Oliver. Oh what flawed beacons of humanity are they! This is a book that I’m very glad I read, although there are some parts that were difficult to read. This is a book that made me think about myself and my own choices and my own life and inward turn to reflect on the path I’ve walked that’s led me to the brink of this present day and the future horizon over which I look. I could also wonder if the bulk of the magic of this book comes from the letters excerpted throughout, which I’ve now discovered were the letters of a real woman whose real story mirrors so much of Susan’s life. Did that take away some of admiration of Stegner perhaps, to realise that he is simply crafting his story around a life that was already lived so brilliantly in the flesh? Perhaps. Still though, this was a story wonderfully told. Well worth the read.

Riptide

She likes to write of the last horizon
the one that was only ever seen that once
everyone tells her she’s lying
but it’s true i was there
like the trees indrawn breath at the start of autumn
so too the breeze that day did something to my lonesome eyes
and as i thought of what it signified that the moment hung eternal
she grabbed my arm and in her eyes i saw the same thought that perhaps
God had chosen this moment of all moments to take us home
and the air caught in my throat and i felt the holy fire
and for a second we rested at the crest
until sound returned and the cry of the gull was heard
not yet my child not yet
she told me later that she knew in that moment she believed in God
for her mind in that space between the wallboards felt awe at what it knew
not in the solidity of earth or mountain or oaken forest
did she linger
but instead in the revealed promises of God made true
not many get to rest in the light of heaven
at least not in this tumultuous night
yet we all gaze off into the horizon
not many sit upon the grassy shore and count the dolphins
but remember beneath the waves how many swim

Fourth House Down

A few little book thoughts this calm and restful Friday.

41. The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis. I needed an encouraging and fun little vacation read recently in Florida and thought about Narnia…and what better standalone Narnia book than Horse and His Boy? Yes, I’ve read it many times before but it never gets old. I love this one and the encouraging truths Lewis sprinkles throughout. There are some genuinely hilarious lines – I simply love his humour – but more than that, this story simply sings. I love thinking on such things as the sovereignty of God and His presence at the back of all things. Also it is always a good reminder to remember that everyone has their own story. Do I fully understand (or need to know) the depths of another’s longings and despair? Perhaps not.

42. The Guns of August by Barbara Tuchman. A remarkable telling of the first month proper of World War I. After reading a relatively recent scholarly analysis of the origins of WW1, this book seemed a proper follow-up. Yes it was written a while back and yes it is perhaps not quite as scholarly or intellectual in style, but you know what? It earns its fame. I was absolutely gripped throughout, utterly fascinated in the sweeps and plunges of the early days of this terrible, great war. Tuchman does a wonderful job of describing and attempting to communicate the various personages (notably generals and leaders of armies) involved and as you read you more and more feel like you understand how they’re thinking and processing. This is a tragic book and though Tuchman does a fine job of describing the broader strategies and distinct moments that changed the course of history, it’s really not a book that’s going to say much about the individual soldier and his thoughts and fears (hm, perhaps All Quiet is next, eh?). Instead, the author focuses on the biggest battles and moments in the early days of this war (notably the Western front and the clash between Russia & Germany leading up to Tannenberg, with an exciting naval interlude thrown in). I appreciated the author’s fine prose (even if a bit overwrought at times) and thought this was a wonderful book attempting to describe a very confusing time from a vantage point barely forty years hence. The author has done a good deal of research and I appreciated reading the fruits of it. Yes there is some bias there (the Germans are dastardly devils indeed, according to this one! But if the author is to believed – which I have no reason to otherwise – the Germans committed some rather shocking atrocities in the name of following standard military doctrine. Helps explain the animus towards Germany a bit more, I suppose). Fascinating reading this one after “Sleepwalkers”, as that book cast Germany in a much more kindly light, whereas in this one (much closer to the actual events) we see Germany in the role of arch-villain. It is interesting reflecting on that which authors choose to focus on. I did very much appreciate this book. It filled in many gaps in my knowledge about the first month of WW1, helping me to understand some of the battles that until now I only knew the names of. I’m slightly afraid this book has done nothing to sate my interest in WW1 matters and now I’m tempted (please save me) from reading a book that covers the course of the war in its entirety. What have I done.

43. The Hermeneutics of the Biblical Writers by Abner Chou. A very interesting and encouraging read. Hermeneutics is one of those tricky subjects that everyone has an opinion on, if they know it or not. In the context of Scripture and understanding what God has said, it is absolutely vital to seek to know and understand how one ought to read and interpret the Bible, even with the understanding that one will never fully understand it in this life (or even the life to come – we Christians will spend eternity drawing closer towards perfect knowledge and communion with our Lord!). But if one does want to know how God communicates to us, would it not behoove us to seek to understand how we ought read and understand the written word that He has given us? That is why a proper hermeneutic matters. If God wants us to know Him and has given us a word that we might know him by, then we absolutely should seek to understand how we might read and understand this word. Long intro. Sorry.

But anyway – this book. Abner Chou writes an interesting (if at times overly repetitive and dense) book attempting to prove that there is a singular hermeneutic underlying all of Scripture. The apostles and authors of the New Testament books do not engage in a different hermeneutic compared to the Old Testament prophets and writers. This is important because it is all too common (even – especially? – in these days) for one to read the New Testament and feel that it has wiped out everything from the Old Testament – it is only the New Testament that matters. The Old Testament writers didn’t really understand how God works and hence we can safely place their writings aside and focus on the books in the NT. Also, don’t the NT authors use the OT in rather odd ways sometimes? Clearly they have a different way of looking at Scripture that we can’t really understand. The Bible is just a bunch of different authors writing in hyper-local contexts engaging with their own local community, correct? Abner Chou writes this book to prove the negative to the above. Instead of understanding the Bible as a mishmash of tribal laws and oral traditions, he recognizes the Bible as ultimately inspired by God, as a book with a common message and common theme. And as an outflow, he recognizes that the prophets and apostles worked out this common theme as they engaged with the writings that were available to them. Instead of a bunch of texts standing alone, the writers are engaging with one another in ways that a proper understanding of intertextuality reveals. These authors were not primitives making it up as they went along – oh no. Instead, the authors of Scripture were highly intelligent and very deliberate (and yes, divinely inspired) in how they crafted their writings to communicate and proclaim the redemptive plan of God. Understanding the redemptive-historical framework of Scripture enables one to more fully grasp the way the writers of Scripture (in progressive fashion) engage with other Scriptures as God’s written revelation continues throughout the ages.

I feel as if I cannot do this book justice, but I will simply say that this book was worth the read. It is pretty dense and scholarly and many, many footnotes and likely this won’t be worth it for many. Not an easy read. But it was worth it for me. There were a few slight (but veiled) references to the dispensational convictions of the author, but I do not feel as if these interfered with the overall message of the book. I could be wrong here (my low theological education showing, I suppose), but I believe both fully reformed and dispensational camps could read this book and come away nodding their heads in agreement with the vast majority. This book did my soul good and I came away with two major takeaways. Firstly, understanding the full depths of Scripture is a hard and challenging task, one that takes hard work and will never end in this life. Secondly, seeking to understand what God is communicating to us in his word is worth the effort. If we understand who God is (Creator) and who we are (creation) and recognize that there is a crack in the world and that all is not as should be and that there is a distance between us and God – what else should be our response than to ask – how might I be with God? If we see the Bible as God’s message revealing the answer, then ought we not then seek to read and plumb the riches of the Bible in order to more fully know and appreciate and be overcome by God and all He is and all He offers? Yes and forever yes. For at the end of the day, we read this Bible and we see all roads pointing to the cross, that fateful day when the God-who-became-man died upon a cross that all who look to him in humble desperation and simple faith shall be united to him in this death and in his resurrection rise to life everlasting in the presence of the God who is.

Monologue

Isn’t it glorious to let your words run away with themselves and craft a tale of which even you aren’t certain of the denouement? Far too often do I do this I confess to the surprise of no one whatsoever. Once in a while – even under that proverbial blue moon – I actually have a plan and execute or at least more or less. Yet that is rare and often it is only because I’m composing as I’m driving down the roadside and alas have no time to stop and pen my lines. Thus it turns out that I allow myself the severe mercy of crafting a through line in my head before all the little lovely turns of phrase and details get put down. Then I know where I’m going and there I know where I must end. But even that is fine for the best parts are those lines that crop up like Athena full formed and sing so sweetly that their harmonies are the only ones that get commented on by those who read. Ah for the graces to be bestowed more liberally that I might more often produce some such that even I dare marvel at from whence it came. Yet can I take credit – of certain not – for I know my origin and that I’m yet created so my so-called creation can only be attributed to the greater composer who writes all tunes. Still yet that means an earthen vessel can be gazed upon and recognized as something beautiful in and of itself even if the potter is not at that time credited. True? I wonder yes I wonder and am in humble awe that once in a great while my pen scribbles something almost great. I am not worthy no not worthy I to my God proclaim. For now I sit upon this couch and lean back against the pillow and with the fevered intensity that comes with blazing dreams of glory say – fall back and sit and sigh and rest and take in the little moments of beauty that once upon a time fall upon your eyes. Slow down and realize that these moments that point to greater glory are all around us yes even now look for the cracks in this world that point to eternity and cry for dreams of glory that beg us to consider from whence they come.

Duologue

meekly i shout meekly!
and once more she lets out a sigh
how can i suppress my fire
when you keep stoking it so well
and then you dare have the nerve
to tell me to dull my songs
you’re right of course
but all i ask is a little indulgence
for the sake of art
just pretend i’m not on the other side
for on the stage you play a part
and that character is all prim and proper
well perhaps your reading of her is
but mine is that she’s been told lies too long
and so of course in this moment she’d erupt
even if it is only in her blazing eyes
so i’ll play her as i want to
and yes this conversation may have undertones
that discomfort even you
but it’s alright we’ll forget all that
when we step off the stage and celebrate opening night
and down at the pub share a drink or two

Ripened

on the madison county line
i waited
in the deep dark depths of mid july
and off to the side at the end of the little gravel road
a dilapidated and faded barn stood
and under an old oak
where a red checked picnic blanket was spread
i waited
and that old classic paperback i read
even though i’d read it far too many times
what’s once more when it brings such joy
and upon the thought of memories of black and white
there comes a crunch of tires upon the gravel
and up the road comes the little sedan
i see her dark tousled hair whip around as she parks
and then she tumbles out and over to me sheepish smiles
there are sparkles in her eyes
what now she says shall we not recommit our love
yes i say simply and in that recommit our lives
and in that moment her eyes met mine and we stood
in the profound symmetry of frozen time
and then upon the blanket we sat and i uncorked the wine
and we raised our glasses said a toast and slowly drank
to us to future glory to that truest of all stories
there off that gravel road on the madison county line

Frayed Scarf

Sunflower dreams and slowly spun tales of oak
What can I take with me as I walk through this forest
Some say whatever is in my pocket
Some say whatever is in my head
I say only that which I craft along the way
And so I whistle the tune I heard at the show last night
And add a few nonsense words which seem to fit
The trees seem not to mind

Anticipation Speaks

A warm Tuesday evening here. I have a few minutes, so supposed I would fill the time by writing a few words on my latest book! Fair warning – it wasn’t a book I loved so I think my thoughts shall be fairly brief. I think.

40. Hotel du Lac by Anita Brookner. Oddly enough, reading this book made me feel distinctly less enthused about vacationing in Switzerland, regardless of the fact that it’s set in a lakeside hotel that presumably people go to enjoy themselves. And yet. That’s part of the thrust of this book, no matter that you may be visiting a charming location – you still very much come with your own baggage, corporeal and non. And the jury is still out if this hotel and its lake and its surroundings are actually charming. The author does good work here of making this lakeside retreat moody, dreamy and even a bit musty at times. It is not meant to be a happy story about a vacation, especially when the main character – one Edith – is not exactly at this hotel of her own free will. There are factors. Of which – of course – we shall discover over the course of this one, so I shall not divulge all. I don’t think I actually liked this book because I didn’t exactly like the main character. I suppose that’s admirable of course, to be able to write a main character is both sympathetic and unlikeable, but can I say I enjoyed the experience? Even the quite competent writing and sweeps of descriptive prose did little to sway my thoughts. Instead, I found my time in this book a bit claustrophobic, even overwhelming at times. Which now gives me pause as I wonder if that is an intentional device on the part of the author or if I just felt a bit removed from the drama of it all. The character work is brilliant and by far the best part of this book is discovering all the backgrounds and little secrets of the other residents in the hotel. Fascinating stories could be written about each of the other characters – the Puseys! Monica (woman with the dog)! Mme de Bonneuil! Mr. Neville! (Wait, no. No one wants his story) and I admire the fact that the author made them all feel so real – almost more real than Edith at times. Again though…is that not intentional? I hesitate to talk too much of the main themes of this work as it is very much a look at questions regarding a woman’s place in the world and the expectations and societal pressures working upon her. While there are of certainty male characters in this book, firstly none of them are exactly stand-up. Secondly, this is not a book about men. Rather, it’s a book about women (well, English well-to-do women) and engaged in very much prodding at the fabric of society that has led them to this little hotel on the lake. My experiences lead me to hesitation to speak further. I shall at least say that I didn’t find this book a warm one, but I daresay it’s not intended to be.

Last Train from the Northern Isles

Flowers upon the table and a song upon the lips. What shall I say now when I see you looking at me? How did it come to this? Across the room our eyes slowly lock and in that meeting there is a communion deeper than words can tell. For sure there is a history there but also a future that is so richly signified by this moment in which we linger now. I wonder if you see the colours in the flowers and recognize in them the vibrancy that sings of life. I think you do for I still remember when you saw them the sparkles in your eyes. And so of course it happens that our words tangle a bit now and then as words are wont to do. Yet still at the end we pull the threads by opposite ends and tell each other exactly the signification of what we were meaning to. Do you see the candles flickering even now? I walk to the kitchen and stir the bolognese and add just a bit more salt. Almost ready I say to you and I lean around the corner and we share a smile. Here’s to the moments passing that tick on the clock that it cannot quite memorialize. So instead I sit here and write and hope to God that he holds us close even as we look to the western skies. At some points it’s true that our lights will waver and we will dance once more across the kitchen floor. When that happens please do me a favor and remind me of the truths that I so often write in prose. Here it comes and there it withers, so quick does the summertime grass grow. For once I hold my tongue and let the stanzas whirl through the violet twilight and in the moment still I hold my breath. This life I scorn as I look to the promise of what it means to be newborn and I shiver as I await my rest.

Truths and Application

I do not have an overlong time to write this morning, so instead – quick few thoughts on latest read!

39. Redemption Accomplished and Applied by John Murray. Simply staggering in its beauty. I finished this book a bare few minutes ago and so feel still a bit caught in the wonder and love and awe that I felt as I read the last few pages (namely, focusing on the glorification of the saints and subsequent life forever with our Lord Jesus Christ). To anyone who wishes to understand and meditate more on the work of God in salvation and how that is worked out in the lives of those who are his, I would heartily recommend this one. Breathtaking in scope and wondrous in its depth of thought, I found this a most profitable read these past few weeks. When is it ever a bad thing to think and ponder more on the salvation that is ours in Christ? This book is broken up into two parts, firstly – the unilateral and sovereign work of God as it bears out on our salvation and what this means. This part was a bit more academic and at times a touch dry, yet still I appreciated and it was profitable. But the second part? I would read this book again ten times just for the second half of this book. Murray writes and expounds on how salvation is worked out in the lives of those who are the redeemed and walks through a number of chapters examining the different facets of salvation (even what most would call the “ordo salutis” or order of salvation, though some of the concepts are a bit intertwined of necessity!) and how God’s redemption of us is actually seen and born out. I do not do this part justice. It is a simply marvelous study on God’s work of salvation in the lives of sinful men and women and shows most clearly how God works in us to call us from darkness to that light of immortality which will end with us looking into the face of Christ and communing with our God forever. What a delight it was to meditate on such themes as effectual calling, regeneration, faith and repentance, justification, adoption, sanctification, perseverance, union with Christ, glorification! I will of certainty read this book again. A balm and delight to my soul to consider the marvelous truths of God’s work of salvation. Some of the truths expounded are ones that I strain to wrap my mind around and truly comprehend. Yet still I delight in meditating on God’s salvation work and thrill to think that I will be forever meditating on this divine work as I worship God now and into eternity. Never will considering these truths cease to bring delight to my soul.