Why do you scribble so furiously she shouts in agony
see here all my tears upon the page
they are for you my love for you that’s all
well then please turn your eyes upon me
let me see their grey
and I turn from the stained paper and she feels my gaze
why do you tremble so my honey
what makes your eyes spark in the candlelight?
you know my love i never was much good at talking
why do you think i write so many fevered words?
give me a minute or two and you’ll have your answer
i understand yes i do for you i’ll wait
i’ll sit here upon the crook of the moon
and i smile with that fresh imagery and i answer
you have my lifetime and all my best stories
and yes you have me too
Precipitation
I have been procrastinating writing all day. It is truly tragic, is it not? One has time to write and write finally for the first time in a long time and then for some perverse reason the will decides to keep choosing other things to do instead. It is maddening, truly. So now the afternoon winds on and I had almost decided it was time to do some dinner prep but then I told myself no that it would not do and that I would write something, even if the output turns out to be quite execrable.
I really wish I could go for a nice walk. It’s been a few days since I’ve stretched my legs properly and it irks me that I feel oh so sedentary in this moment. Yet the rain has been pouring and pouring and though now it seems it’s stopped, I do not trust the sky and I shall not risk the walk, quite certain that more storms shall be rolling o’er head shortly. So. I write! What shall I write? It’s been a long week, what with me and Dani being properly sick and miserable. It’s a garden variety cold/cough for me, but Dani’s been hit much harder. Right now I’m just grateful if she’s able to keep any food or liquids down. Praying for her recovery – oh please Lord, heal her. I suppose it’s normal after a vacation for the body to finally collapse upon arriving home again, mm? Definitely our bodies have been through a lot these past few weeks, what with traveling to Italy (Rome & Positano!) and Greece (Santorini!) and I am quite a terrible chronicler in that I really should detail some of our adventures in the aforesaid, yet I can’t quite bring myself to open the spigot. Instead, I’ll close this little post and then ponder if my creative self can decide to write anything more poetic and dreamy than the dreary prose that has trickled forth thus far.
I really am in a mood, aren’t I? Yet I do long to write something beautiful. I am not quite certain if I can. Yet even if I can’t, it is good to sit here at home, dry and warm on a day when outside is damp and stormy. I will perhaps do some dinner prep now – classic burritos with tomato/avocado salad! – and then see if any writing is to be. Peace and love, my friends. Peace and love.
Candles
Light and life and rose petals and a frost upon the glass
see what you make me think of when you grace me with your smile
don’t you think it’s worth it
even these moments that fall short of art?
I don’t consider it any less a celebration just because it’s quiet
and certainly I don’t mind it when it’s just me and you
if anything my heart is sad knowing you’re hurting
so don’t apologize my love don’t say you’re sorry
just know that you here and now is all i want
someday we’ll go for walks again together
someday we’ll celebrate down at my favourite patio bar
but for now let’s just relish being home together
i’ll light the candle and you curl up on your chair
soon enough my love soon enough you’ll be better
but for now it’s enough knowing you’re there
Anniversary
It’s wonderful to sit down for a moment and to in the moment consider all that has come before. The moments blur and speed up as if memory has undertaken a compression activity in order to improve processing speed for the present. Perhaps that is so, if a crude way of putting it. But still ought not we take time now and again to look backwards? I find it easy to say that for perhaps that is already my natural inclination and I need no reminder. Looking back at a story unfolded and on shiny paper with letters vivid in wet ink upon the page is pleasurable. The story writ there, even if interpreted through smudged lens, is finite and bounded. The book is readable, to come to the point. But the book is lying open, is it not? It will not always be so. Someday it will be closed and there shall be another volume on the shelf which must be pulled down for the continuation. But leave that for now. That volume is for consideration at a later date – when the sea air blows fresh and the gulls call. For now, consider the open book upon the table. The pages already spoken of are wonderful to think on, but they are static. There is no changing what has been printed. The ones still to come? Well, they are a bit blurry, you might say. Yes, perhaps with the right glasses one could read them. But I certainly can’t. You neither, I think. It takes eyes of a divine nature and alas our nature is a bit fractured and marred, nowhere close to the divine that has granted us its imprint. Still we squint. And perhaps certain words can be read here and there, but perhaps to not to be able to read the rest is a blessing in and of itself. I think if I could read the reminder of this volume, I’d need to sit down for a bit, dizzy and faint for that which is not my burden to bear in this moment. Instead, I lift the book up and look at the name of the author on the spine. Ah yes. I’m in good hands. I don’t exactly know how this volume will conclude. Yet I do know it will be an ending worthy of the name. And then as I spoke of before, there is always the volume yet to come. Oh how I do look forward to that one. It shall be a pleasure beyond description to read that one. Someday. Someday.
One More Year
Hello dear friends!! A few short thoughts on a few books read recently. I don’t want to write much here as I’m hoping to write a bit more creatively later on. As always, we shall see.
39. Notes from the Underground and The Gambler by Fedor Dostoevsky. It has been far, far too long since I’ve read words penned by Dostoevsky and reading these two novellas really made me realize how much I’ve been missing out. I don’t truly know what it is about how Dostoevsky writes but when he writes scenes, you really feel them. His prose is exquisite, his scenes imaginative and oh boy the characters. I’m not going to belabor my thoughts on these two stories, but they are magnificent and weird and wonderful in all the best ways. Both of them have a sense of sublime tragedy that is hard to capture yet Dostoevsky does it so well. There is humour galore (please don’t ever call Dostoevsky dull or boring) and there is plenty of the absurd. There are moments where I almost physically cringed with the raw emotion being displayed on the page. In particular I loved the interactions between the narrator and Liza in “Notes on the Underground” – beautifully, beautifully depicted. Also in “The Gambler”? Every moment with Grandmother was a riot and a wonder to behold. Again, I’m not sure what it is about Dostoevsky and his writing that captures my heart so, but I do love reading him. Yes, these are tragic stories and a bit grey and grim at times. Yet there is still heart there, if painfully it beats.
40. Roman Stories by Jhumpa Lahiri. A collection of short stories set in Rome, I enjoyed these in the moment but I’ll confess now that I’m not certain how long they shall stick with me. The writing is technically proficient but something about the stories themselves left me a bit cold. I may just not have been in the proper mood for them, who can tell? The prevailing themes are strong – marital tensions/dissolution/aging, living in a foreign land as a stranger yet not, racial animus and racism writ large – yet even with those themes being solid in and of themselves, the stories felt a bit stark and bare at times, feeling a bit too carefully crafted. Ah well, like I said, I did enjoy these in the moment for the most part.
41. Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay by Elena Ferrante. Another novel in the Neopolitan series by the brilliant Ferrante. Yet as much as I can acknowledge the craft in this one, I think this is a turning point novel for me. Don’t think I can read another. Very possibly I said this about the last one, but this time I think it’s true! Possible spoilers ahead, so read with care if not wishing to be spoiled. Anyways. The cast of characters in this one grows ever larger and while some times I struggled to remember who was who, the character list at the beginning helps with such. As always, any scene with Lila in it simply sings. I think the author knows this and deliberately deploys these scenes as needed, as her writing of the character sizzles with warmth and realness. Elena Greco, as typical, is a bit more of a boring character, but the fascinating thing here is that I think the author realizes this and even nods to such, attempting to show Elena buck against the norms and silken cords that bind her tight. Elena is always struggling to fight her own feelings of inferiority and is not helped by the many in her life – even her own husband! – who think she’s really rather second rate. It’s fascinating for the author to choose to depict her main character so and I think it’s really rather clever, even if it does come across as making Elena the duller character in pretty much any of her interactions with anyone else. Still yet, this book is eminently readable and as before, all the Lila scenes are fire – not to be missed. But this book ended in such a way that made me very angry and though I could argue that it only makes sense for it to have ended how it did, I abhor marital infidelity and the depiction of such…even if it seems warranted or even the right thing to do to abandon a spouse and children, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around Elena’s actions here. She’s impulsive and destructive and while I suppose we could say it only makes sense living with a husband who seems so neglectful and dispassionate, there is no way I can justify her leaving her family for a stupid affair of the heart. Nino is his father all over again (as I believe is pointed out) and I simply raged to see that Elena gets taken in by him so easily. Perhaps Nino actually does feel for her – as seems to be the case – yet even so? Two families wrecked just so that two people can indulge their feelings for one another. I loved hearing Lila tear into Elena and perhaps the last book in this series will show how these choices only lead to further destruction and misery. Perhaps, yet I don’t even want to find out. I knew this series got grimmer by the book yet I thought I could handle it. Ah well, perhaps not. I hate unfaithfulness.
42. Enjoying God by Tim Chester. A simple book on how we can grow in our enjoyment of God and communion with Him in the every day hardships and mundanities we face. I greatly enjoyed this one. Yes it is simple at times, but maybe we need that? This book had so many good reminders of how we ought understand who God is – in the three persons of the Trinity – and how we ought understand our relationship to Him – union with Christ and therefore relationship with God in true fashion – and then how we ought live and breathe to grow closer to our God in the everyday. I confess my full theological nerdery and say that my favourite chapter by far was the chapter at the end where the author dug into some of John Owen’s writings on communion with God and really went deeper on what it means for us for our union with God to be the foundation for our communion with him. Superb writing and fantastic summary of John Owen (not easy to do!). This book was good for my soul.
Seven Hills
A Sunday evening and possibly some reading awaits. But firstly, re-capping of previously done reading! Yes yes more books I’m sorry. I really shall attempt to write something properly at some point. Some day. But for now…
36. Men and Women in Christ by Andrew Bartlett. I’ve been reading this for the past month or so now and just now finished it this afternoon. I have been pondering its contents and most likely bothering some of my friends with thoughts and questions spawned from aforesaid pondering. Anyway I shall attempt to not write over many words because I don’t think my thoughts will be worth the reading. Why did I read this one? I think I saw someone else recommend it at some point and the summary intrigued me and so I picked it up. It’s been on my shelf for a few years now and so I finally decided to read it. And my conclusions? Mixed. Firstly, my biases. I have most certainly grown up in the complementarian tradition and have almost entirely listened to preachers and read books believing such. Quick definition – I would define the basic “complementarian” position as one that believes men and women have different roles in both the family and in the church, without diminishment of either’s personhood or worth. The counter “egalitarian” position is one which sees no divine restriction on any roles in family or church and believes that men and women can serve whichever roles they are gifted for. Those definitions are my own, stated baldly. There is much nuance and many variations on each. That disclaimer given, back to the book.
I was intrigued by this book because the author stated that he was attempting to approach this debate from a fresh perspective, grounded in Scripture and without being beholden to previous traditions. I appreciated a number of things about this book, though I did not agree with all of the author’s interpretations and conclusions. Firstly, I greatly appreciated the honor and reverence with which the author approached both God and His Word. He did not want to come to conclusions simply because of cultural milieu or pressures. Instead of approaching this debate with the end-result being pre-determined, the author genuinely sought to understand what God has to say about the roles of men and women in His Word. Secondly, while I have grown up in the traditional church model – men and women have different roles in the home; women are restricted in roles in the church – I also have been growing ever more aware of the way that history and culture have perpetrated abuses on women and have harshly demeaned and belittled the worth and dignity of women throughout the ages. And the institutional church does not have clean hands in this matter. This author does a fantastic job of pointing out God’s view of women – those who bear his image and are called by Him to proclaim his gospel – and making it clear that God does not love women any less than he does men. Thirdly, I was very appreciative of the way the author attempted to honestly and carefully present the opposing viewpoints, avoiding straw-manning and presenting the strongest views and statements of each side of the debate. I much appreciate this intellectual honesty, something sadly lacking in most of the furor over this topic. Fourthly, I greatly appreciate the love this author has for God, His Word and His church, and how he longs that this discussion might be something that leads to further unity the church. Fifthly, I greatly appreciate how the author does acknowledge the difference between men and women and even acknowledges there is a special role in marriage that men play that women do not.
I have already written more than I planned to, but while I have stated what I appreciated, what did I not appreciate? Well simply, I was not persuaded by the author’s interpretations of several of the key passages. The author has a habit of making very firm statements on validity or lack thereof of certain conclusion statements and then carrying the framework he has built in certain passages over to other passages. I.e. – if he has decided there are grounds for saying that Paul teaches mutual authority and submission in 1 Cor 7 and Ephesians 5, then obviously Paul would not be contradicting himself by his instructions to women in Colossians or Ephesians 5. If one disagrees with the former, then one will struggle with the latter conclusions, as I did. At times, there is a bit of a “house of cards” effect. If you agree with the author’s conclusions, then yes, you will agree with the author’s conclusions. If you don’t, then the reasoning appears circular at times. I’m being a bit harsh and I am not saying the author is being deliberately disingenuous. I don’t believe he is – I just do not feel his interpretive framework holds together. There is a bit of built-in bias leaning towards egalitarianism and I believe the author is swayed in that direction by degrees. That said? His argumentation was not poor and there were some rather conclusive chapters on passages of Scripture that I’d not heard before. Particularly appreciated the chapter on 1 Cor 14 – it solidified my believe that this passage should not be used to restrict women in the church. The chapter on 1 Cor 11 was also useful. I didn’t agree with everything, but I did appreciate the fact that he pointed to the cultural background and made a fairly convincing argument for Paul talking about hair-styles – not hats! The chapters on 1 Timothy (crucial chapters for this debate) did not convince me. I appreciated the author’s attempts, but as much as I did understand his argument that the flow and purpose of 1 Timothy points to the 1 Tim. 2 passage being targeted to particular women who were leading others astray, this does not seem to me a clear reading of the text. Taking on board the author’s later comments that not all Scripture is particularly clear or easy to read on its surface, I would still argue that Paul could not have worded 1 Timothy much more confusingly if he simply meant to restrict certain false teacher ladies from stirring up mischief. The author gives much weight to “Timothy would have known what Paul taught on such matters” or “Titus knew Paul’s teaching” – my rough paraphrases, not direct quotes – and I think at times the author over-complicates the plain reading of the text. Yes yes, the dreaded “plain reading of the text” argument can be mis-used, this I have no doubt. Yet for all the author’s reasonings, I was not convinced. I also struggled with the author’s thoughts on Ephesians 5. While I agree with the author that there is no divine command given men to “lead your wives”, the implicit force of the various household passages throughout Scripture do point to a hierarchical perspective on marriage. The horror. I appreciate the author wants an explicit statement (honestly, I wish there was one too, simply so that this debate could be forestalled!). But I do believe that if Scripture is read in its entirety, the difference in roles in marriage for men and women cannot be denied. Much like the mysteries of the trinity or soteriology, there is not one proof-text verse or passage that can be pointed at to decide the matter.
That all being said? I’ve written far too much and I’m making myself stop now. This book made me think far more about this topic than I have previously and I’m grateful for such. It can be helpful to read books written from an opposing perspective to one that you yourself hold, and I’m thankful I read this one. Has it changed my mind? Not entirely. Yet, it has made me think differently about several passages in Scripture and also think more about the roles of women in the church. I do believe many churches have wrongly kept women restricted as they restrict that which God has not restricted and I believe a grave disservice has been done to my fellow sisters by putting boundaries up that God has not put in place. And if anything, reading this book has reminded me that this is not a “first-order issue” and I should not think one less of a Christian or child of God if we disagree in this matter. Grateful for this author’s reminding me of his glorious salvation that has been offered to all who believe on the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, men and women alike, and the “not yet” that we look towards when we shall all worship our Lord with joyful praise.
37. The Garden Party by Katherine Mansfield. A delightful little book of short-stories, I really shouldn’t have enjoyed this one as much as I did. The writing was a bit dated and not exactly the height of English literature. Yet? I think I loved it simply because it is a picture into a time now past. I picked this book up a while ago at a used book shop, I’m pretty sure just because it is a copy from 1922 and I love old books. This one is nice and old and musty and I love it so. Yet the contents? They were better than expected. I honestly did not know this was a book of short stories at first and was very confused when the “chapter” changed and all the characters did too! But these short stories were delightful, even if times there was a bit of a bitter edge to them. The author writes with a tinge of the melancholy and some of these stories made me almost cry. Yet for all that, these stories were about people. They felt ever so human. Even more than a hundred years ago now, with all the dated language and slang, these stories rang true.
38. When We Get It Wrong by Dominic Smart. Reading this one again simply because I wanted to read an encouraging book that would remind me of Christ and his mercies. This book was a refreshment to my soul and it made me smile as I read to consider what it means to be in Christ and how this bears on my everyday life. There are some true gems in this book and quite grateful for how God blessed me in reading such. Oh how wonderous it is to ponder and meditate on God’s love for me and that I am ever always His! I do love how Dominic takes us through the story of Peter’s tragic fall and most surprising redemption and how it is a picture of how God too deals with us his children. This book is a wonderful corrective both to those who think we must continually earn God’s favor and to those who think our Christian lives ought be ones of ease. Surely we wouldn’t say those things out loud but often we live as though we believe such. And so we crumple when we sin and we fall apart when storms blow upon us. Instead ought we go to Christ in simple humility and trust, knowing that our lives here may yet be toilsome and weary, yet we know to whom we belong and we find joy in being children of God, fearing not when trials come and running to Jesus when we fall. In the midst of this turbulent world and our oft-more turbulent thoughts, let us always, always consider Jesus.
Redwoods
Hello friends! A wet day outside and so alas no walk this Friday evening. But I suppose that means perhaps a few thoughts on a few books? I shall be brief, as I’d rather more reading time and more time with the Dani!
33. Looking for Alaska by John Green. Right, so I remember reading this book probably about 10-12 years ago? And I know I much enjoyed it then. Now? Well, less so. I wonder if that’s due to growing up or finding the book pretty fundamentally depressing or just finding certain things less amusing now than previously. Whatever the reason, this book didn’t do it for me this time. I found the author’s voice a bit annoying – narrator’s voice I suppose but it felt authorial – and while some of the adventures of the gang were fun to read about, all the rule-breaking, smoking, drinking, havoc-causing got a bit old by the end of it. Then of course, this book does take a turn later on that hits brutally and never feels like it really resolves, as much as the author tries to show the growth of his main character. I believe this book is slightly autobiographical (at least the author is pulling a bit from his past) and so it’s hard to criticize what I didn’t like over-much. There are some great set-pieces in this book and the author knows how to spin a story for sure! But at the end of the day, as much as the characters are vivid and well drawn and the writing is very serviceable, I didn’t enjoy this one like I remember enjoying it way back in the day. Maybe if you’re a teen or in your twenties, this will resonate or twinge your nostalgia positively. For me, reading this just made me a bit sad. I think there is some veiled commentary on self-destructive behaviour and what it can lead to, yet this book felt more self-indulgent than introspective. I’m probably being a bit harsh as not every book needs to be moralistic and I certainly don’t want preachy. Yet this book felt pretentiously haughty without a moral core supporting such. Ah well.
34. The City of the Sun by Brian Stableford. Another Daedalus mission book that I apparently forgot I had purchased! Found it hidden on my bookshelf before a trip and eagerly grabbed this for a plane read. It was serviceable but sadly is probably the worst Stableford I’ve read. The core mystery on the planet visited by the Daedalus crew was pretty easily sussed. Not many surprises here. Though the author still writes a good story, this one felt almost dull by the time it resolved. Also a little anti-Christian/religion message that irked me a bit, though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised – Stableford’s writings have definitely hinted at his bias against organized religion before. Still for all that hot air, this book wasn’t terrible. Just not great.
35. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. Oof. What do I say about this one? Picked it up in LAX to read on the plane and I read it over the course of the next few hours. One cannot go through life without hearing of this book and though I had been led to believe this book was not for the faint of heart, I had read a book recently that had praised it highly and so I felt it was time to give it a go. Worth it? Maybe? It is well-written, no doubt. There is a claustrophobic air about this one – yes you feel trapped as if you breathing the stalest of air. Perhaps as if you were encased in a bell jar. Ha ha. But really, I’m grateful that I read this, though I must certainly warn others that this book is not for the faint of heart. There is much in this book that was disturbing and hard to read. I would like to think that what Esther Greenwood goes through in this book was a rare occurrence, but sadly from what I know of history, that is likely not so.
This book is acclaimed as one of the vanguard works of the feminist movement and I suppose I can understand why that is so. Yet I believe to think of this book as purely a feminist one misses the mark a bit. Yes, this book exposes what it is like to live in a world tailored for men. Yes, this book exposes the overwhelming angst felt by one living in a world that felt as if it could not answer for what one longed. Yes, this book highlights the casual cruelty and wickedness of men who feel as if it’s their right to take what they believe is their due. But also? This book is so deeply personal. From reading a bit of Plath’s biography at the end, it is quite clear how much of this book is modeled after events that took place in her own life. There’s a reason Plath’s mother was so keen to block publication of this book. So this book is one that is Plath’s very own story spun out into literary form. And if anything, this book unmasks the sheer loneliness and confusion that descends upon one who feels as if there is nothing the world can do to relieve her pain. There is an incident in the book right before Esther goes back home that feels almost as if it is an instigating incident for her cracking apart and spiral down. Earlier yet, Esther is confronted with her lack of forward drive and paralysis into mediocrity as she is grasping for all yet holding onto nothing all at the same time. And so Esther is violated from within and violated from without. Her identity is what? A tool to be used and abused without anything of worth to distinguish herself from the plebeian horde. It is probably overly simplistic to say that her breakdown is caused by a simple trauma. Yet Esther was already at the edge, was she not? She needed only a push.
Ah I’m talking about this book far more than I meant to. I’m glad I read this one, but I would very much hesitate before recommending it to others. It’s a tough read. Pick it up with caution. If anything, reading this book just reminded me how fragile we are as humans. We are beautifully and wonderfully made, true. Yet we groan now in these vessels which feel incomplete at times. We are not our own yet we so strive and in this striving we rage and cry. There is a veil between us and the real – shall we not long for its removal just as Esther gloried in the lifting of the bell jar? I pray for compassion and for grace.
In Between
approach the lower doorway and
ask if all is as it seems
i find it slightly peculiar
how the light turns green now
just when i’m ready to sleep
do you also ascend in half steps
do you feel the sea breeze too?
feel my heart thrum thrum thrum
eyes open wider
the corridor stretches
is it almost time to dream?
Slow Down If You Please
A few thoughts on a few books this lovely grey Wednesday evenig.
29. The Apostolic Fathers in English edited by Michael W. Holmes. I had forgotten I had this one on my shelf! It has sat there for a few years now without me sparing it even the slightest thought. Finally though. It was time. I’m glad I read this work. What is it? Well, it’s a compilation of some of the earliest (non-canonical) writings of the early church fathers. We have works by Clement, Ignatius, Polycarp…the early-church manual “The Didache” and others. It was extremely fascinating to read words that had been written so recently following the life of Jesus Christ, even as the church was forming and coming to be slightly more structured and even as certain doctrinal elements were yet rather fuzzy. I think it important to read this with a discerning mind, especially if one reads – as I did – with the belief that the canon of the New Testament was divinely ordained by God and that these writings are not part of it. So are the words I read divinely inspired? I would say not. Yet still these writings give a glimpse as to the thoughts and beliefs of certain ones in the early church and I’m grateful for that. Some of the writings were truly fascinating and encouraging. Funnily enough I found the Epistle to Diognetus the most edifying! An apologetic for the Christian faith addressed to one who did not yet believe, I found it a clear and well-structured proclamation of the gospel. Some of the writings were a bit more odd. The Shepherd of Hermas? Yeah, that’s an odd one. I don’t quite know what to make of it and it made me uneasy at times. And some of the letters of Ignatius made me quirk an eyebrow, especially with his emphasis on the primacy of the bishops and their standing in the place of God. Hm. And I did note with sadness a vein running throughout many of these writings on the emphasis of works and holy living with a bit of a neglect on the work of Christ and what that work means for those who are his. Legalism and formalism already creeping in a bit. How quickly did errors accrete, even in the early church! So if you read this, read it with discernment and care. I would still heartily recommend this to anyone interested in theology and the early church. It’s a fascinating read and well worth the time taken.
30. Tiger by the Tail by Alan Nourse. An old slim paperback I found on my shelf, it’s a collection of old-school sci-fi stories, just what I was in the mood for! Yet…the stories weren’t anything much to write home about. These stories definitely felt in the vein of silly 50s/60s sci-fi, even reminding me a bit of Asimov’s lesser stories at times. I know this is technically “Golden Age” sci-fi, but I just didn’t think these stories were that great. There are better old sci-fi collections out there.
31. Dungeon Crawler Carl by Matt Dinniman. Finally. I’d been hearing about this one for a while and dismissed it figuring it was not my speed. Well, a friend finally lent it to me this past week and I knocked it out in a couple nights. Did I like it? Yes and no. It’s remarkably well crafted and the writer has a strong voice, to be sure. It’s a fun read!! But I probably won’t be continuing this journey. Even though I’m a bit curious how Carl and Donut’s journey progresses, I don’t think I can bring myself to read another one. I may have liked this book a lot more 10 or 15 years ago, I don’t know. If you play (or have played) video games, you would probably love this. I did appreciate the game references and it felt very Borderlands-esque (even the humor! especially the humor!) and the characters are strong. And I’ve heard the series only gets better. But! This book is just a bit too crass and profane, a bit too violent and dark…and…though I appreciate what the author is doing and it is a rather fun read, I just don’t need this in my head. So shutting it down after one. I wonder if this is a sign I’m just getting old? Or perhaps more weary of certain things I once found funny. Anyway, I do get the hype and I understand why this series is loved. Just not for me.
32. The Paradox of the Sets by Brian Stableford. Every time I read a sci fi novel by Stableford I find myself happy and pleased and wondering why I don’t read more by him. The author is wildly imaginative, wonderfully nerdy (especially on the subject of biological/ecological subjects!) and decently philosophical. This book is in a series that I have read a few books of before and technically this is the last one, but it didn’t really matter as the story is pretty stand-alone. It’s a mystery of sorts and I enjoyed trying to figure out what was really going on as the narrator attempted to discover the secrets of the final colony world on their mission. Well-written sci-fi goodness. Full approve.
Domestic
Hello friends! A Tuesday evening post here, a bit rare that. But I do have a few minutes to sit here on the couch and rest and why not? I’m feeling simultaneously tired and happy at the moment. A long work day accomplished. Then some errands with the Dani. It’s been a grey drippy day all throughout and what better at the end of a long wet day? A nice hot bowl of soup with fresh bread, says I. So…well get to work, James – I said to myself! Vegetables have been chopped and a quick dough has been whipped up and now the ham and bean soup simmers on the stove and bread is baking in the oven. Thankfully I’m not quite hungry yet as I feel the soup needs a couple hours to really come together. We’ll get there. Even if we do end up eating dinner about 8pm tonight! That all being said – far too much talk about dinner I suppose! – I really just wanted to write a few words on a normal little day here. Sometimes we crave to chronicle the momentous happenings of life and such is good. But I also think it important to record days like this. A quiet little Tuesday in which life is lived even if there is nothing big or grand about it. Living itself is something that points to the miraculous is it not? So I now lift my head and sigh, grateful for a hearty dinner ahead and a warm dry home and a book about to be read. I am truly blessed, that I cannot deny.
Something Weird 