Tag: book review

unchained

James HoganLeave a comment

Another day, another book.

6. James by Percival Everett. A quick read but certainly not an easy one. This book is one that is eminently readable and hard to put down, as the story moves quick and true and without mercy, much like the big river that features so prominently. It is hard to go into this book without expectations, as the book that inspired this one is so well known (and indeed, one I read again several years back so it is fresh in my mind). So I knew this book was a companion piece with Huck Finn – a parallel re-telling, so it might be thought. And well. Yes? But this book is quite different in both tone and style. Everett certainly doesn’t have as light a touch with his prose. Whereas Twain’s tale bobs and floats along and written masterfully as a biting commentary on contemporary society, Everett’s book isn’t trying to win any awards for beauty. The writing is hard-edged, concise, utterly direct. There is an elegant brutality to Everett’s prose, as surely as he lays bare the utter brutality of 19th-century America’s peculiar institution. Do not expect any hands to be held or any guns to go unfired. This book will not coddle you. Yet this book very much is in dialogue with Twain’s masterpiece. They are telling the same story with the same basic aim, yet in very different fashions. Twain’s tale is the story of a boy told through the eyes of a boy, with all the wit and sparkle that Twain can muster. Everett’s narrative is the story of a man told through the eyes of a man, with all the pain and rage and sheer disbelief for what one man can do to another. Both of these books dissect the idea of the nature of man and the humanity of such (or lack thereof) but the focuses are different. For how could they not be? The story of a white boy vs the story of a black man. How do they compare? Huck Finn – even with all the darkness that lurks and shrieks – is a story of a boy growing up. James is the story of a man grown who has seen too much.

Why am I talking so much about Twain’s novel? I think Everett demands such. He is consciously writing in response to Twain and he is very deliberate in how he tells (and re-tells) the story that Twain first put to page. Because at the end of the day, as much as Twain does what he can to show the shocking inhumanity of those who proclaim to be so pious, Everett can and does do so much more as he both highlights the humanity of blacks while laying bare the utter inhumanity and animality of whites. There are quibbles I could make. I’m not sure all of Everett’s changes to the narrative quite work (especially Huck’s origin story – seemingly attempting to redeem him from the sin of whiteness?) and while I find myself amused by the way Everett uses language to highlight the demarcation between black and white society, the conceit eventually wears bare. Yet I think Everett’s attempts to portray the Other in race-essentialism-fashion hammer home the point of the evils of a race-based society. There is a tinge of discomfort at the depths Everett goes to show the amorality and evil of white society. Yet that is proper and I don’t think needs to be excused. The ending of this book is difficult to read. You could argue that Everett’s work lacks nuance, but well…nuance isn’t the point here. This is supposed to be a hard book to stomach. We should be frankly shocked and horrified at the tale Everett tells. This is not an easy book to read. Nor should it be.

Definitely Full of Wind

James HoganLeave a comment

A little book review of a big book.

5. Wind and Truth by Brandon Sanderson. I am disappointed but not surprised. This book was enjoyable enough in its own right and I read it fairly quickly, all things considered. Yet? This book, the ending to the first major arc in Brandon Sanderson’s magnum opus series, was not a book I found joy in reading. The plot hooked me well enough! If anything, this book has reinforced my belief that Sanderson is a magnificent plotter. He has his story and he knows where he’s going with it. The ending of this book was actually thrilling and the climax caught me genuinely off guard. Yet it fit so well (and was even well sign posted earlier in the book if I’d been paying attention!) and I am actually intrigued to see how the latter half of the Stormlight Archive plays out. The plot is all there. Yet. Do I actually want to read the latter half of the Stormlight Archive? Honestly? I may pass. The reading experience is getting more and more excruciating with each successive book. This may be worse than Rhythm of War. And that was the previous low, in my opinion. Am I being overly harsh? Possibly. Am I just being contrary? Also very possibly. I think I’m just frustrated because I care. I want Sanderson’s books to be great. I’ve seen and read his books that are! Yet this book has little of the charm, whimsy, creativity or gravitas of his earlier books. The character beats are starting to feel rote, even as the plethora of one-liners and italics proclaim the important moments just to make sure that we don’t miss them. (I’m sorry. The italics are something that I just continue to roll my eyes at as they grate me so) And the prose – while Sanderson’s prose has never been great – has continued to decline in quality? Maybe I’m being overly harsh. I know I can’t write like Sanderson and I’m grateful that he has a story he wants to tell. But his characters are continuing to sound more and more similar to each other and less and less like real people. The character moments Sanderson is trying to highlight are straining to be real and vivid yet for all that the author is doing to tell, I struggle to see the show. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just starting to burn out on Sanderson? Way of Kings and Words of Radiance were two books I much enjoyed. The next two? Less so. And this one? It’s similar. Not abysmal yet…not great. Not even good. Average? Yes, I suppose so. As stated earlier, I really did enjoy some of the ending beats. Dalinar’s decision caught me by surprised and propelled things far more forward than I was expecting. I could talk about the other characters but I don’t really want to bother. Except Adolin. Adolin continues to be awesome and I will always love him.

At the end of the day? I read this fairly quickly because I was genuinely interested to see where Sanderson was going. Not sure if or when I’ll want to re-read though, with the journey being such a slog. There is little beauty in this book, little that I will want to return to. Also the truth – as grandiosely self-proclaimed as it is – is somewhat barren in this one. The philosophies espoused are humanistic in the extreme, self-centered and self-glorifying. The grand truths unveiled are trite and simplistic. There is very little in the base philosophy of this book to enliven and hearten the soul. Many books lack true vigor of truth and beauty. I know this. Maybe with this one it grates more simply because of how loudly the book protests the worth of which it contains. Maybe. Or maybe I’m simply becoming slightly less eager to read works that don’t encourage my soul. Maybe this book truly is the pinnacle of modern fantasy. If so, that makes me sad. This may be the last Sanderson for me.

Snowdrifts

James HoganLeave a comment

A book review this Monday afternoon.

4. Surprised by Oxford by Carolyn Weber. A worthy read, this book both encouraged my soul and delighted my heart. I came into this book expecting something I would resonate with, and indeed I did. It is a possibility that I had my expectations for this book set perhaps too high (expecting something similar to “A Severe Mercy” or “Surprised by Joy” – really, the title is asking for such!) and so I was initially a bit disappointed at how this book played out. Not quite the beautiful thoughtfulness of Vanauken or the bracing clarity and wit of Lewis, but well…there are few books that can compare with those. As I’ve considered this book more as I’ve finished it over these last few days, I’ve come to appreciate this book for what it is – a beautifully honest telling of one woman’s journey to faith in Jesus Christ. Yes, the Oxford bits are a delight to read (and if you are at all similar to me and have a wistful longing to go to Oxford and wander the streets and even perhaps study there, then this book will simply increase that desire – be warned!!) and yes all the discussions of art and poetry and music made me smile (as much as I got a bit tired of all the U2 references!). But at the end of the day, my favourite part of this book was seeing the unashamed joy the author has in the knowledge and peace of Christ. This book felt a bit disjointed at times and I wished for maybe a more prolonged prologue explaining the book and setting forth the author’s purpose. And the premise of the book left no doubt as to the outcome, so there is very little tension in the author’s journey. We know she will end up a Christian! But how will she get there? And that’s what this book is about.

It is not perfect and like I said, some of the episodes felt a bit superfluous. But this book demands a re-read and to be read more slowly I think. There are some truly lovely moments and some of the wordplay is simply fantastic. The literary references will make you smile and think (when you catch them). And yes, probably I would enjoy this book much more if I liked U2 and understood all the author’s song references. The more I slowed down as I read this, the more I enjoyed it. There are moments where I felt a bit uncomfortable or annoyed at some of the characters’ interactions. Not sure if that was entirely intentional by the author, but I had to remind myself that this book was placed almost thirty years ago now, when standards and norms were a bit different. I wished the secondary love story in this one (the author and her TDH – “tall, dark & handsome”) hadn’t had quite as much screen time. But regardless of all my little quibbles, I did enjoy this book. It encouraged my soul and I found my eyes watering near the end as the author professed her faith and got baptized. It is remarkable and always a joy anew reading of a person’s encounter with the God that is real. The author is vulnerable and not telling this story to proclaim her own virtues and talents. No, the author here tells the raw and messy story of her journey to God and the real and persistent joy she now finds in a real and vibrant relationship with Him.

Suspension

James HoganLeave a comment

One more book to discuss this beautiful Christmas Eve day.

69. Good Tidings of Great Joy by C.H. Spurgeon. A fantastic little book pointing us to the beauty and wondrous truth that is the incarnation of Christ. A book I’ve been looking forward to reading for some time, I decided it was a perfect “Christmas read”. And so it has turned out to be. Reading this these last few weeks leading up to Christmas (and writing this now on Christmas Eve!) has been delightfully encouraging and soul-enlivening. Oh how good it is to consider the foundation of our salvation – the very person and work of Christ! This book is an ideal devotional book, with each “chapter” being only 3-4 pages long and each full of rich truths and passionate declarations of God’s mercies towards us. As always with Spurgeon, his writings are both pastoral in nature and exceedingly glorifying of God, full of rich metaphors and heartfelt pleading for us to consider Jesus. I found my heart stirred as I read this book. It definitely helped to give myself time to sit and be quiet in both body and soul as I read, as we are oh so harried these days by all the stresses of modern life and it is easy to let ourselves be distracted by all the troubles that surround us. But as I took a deep breath and read and meditated on the truths of God expounded by Spurgeon in this little book, I found my heart exceedingly blessed and I enjoyed true rest. We ought to spend more time meditating on the truths of God and our salvation and letting our minds soar to think of things above as we muse on the salvation that is ours in Jesus Christ our Lord – and this book mightily assists with that.

Tears Upon the Angel’s Face

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Book review post! (Surprise!)

68. Art and Fear by David Bayles & Ted Orland. A book about making art and all the perils that come with. Was a bit disappointed by it as I think maybe I expected something a bit more profound? Yes, the authors weren’t trying to write a treatise on the meaning of Art or about what comprises art (Everything? Nothing?) and they also weren’t necessarily trying to classify who belongs in the Artist category. Yet still? This book felt both a bit perfunctory and a bit unfocused. Definitely a few good takeaways here and there (especially the idea that the very creation of a particular piece of art is something done only once, as the artist is given of himself at a particular moment in time and the process of creating necessarily changes both the artist and the world in that moment) yet perhaps this is a book that should be read all at once. I may have done it a disservice by reading it disjointedly over the span of two weeks. I did enjoy mulling over the idea that the only work worth doing is that which is focused on something the artist cares about. Only that is “true art”, perhaps? Maybe I was not the right audience for this work. Very much felt like the authors were writing to “professional” artists, those who make their living from their art (or at least want to). Is it possible to be an artist who creates art yet not be an Artist? Maybe? The authors didn’t really engage with this. Also was uncertain of a few statements made that we can only really make art that dialogues with the ethos in which we live – obviously making religious art in these post-modern days doesn’t really work, according to the author. Of course that’s me stretching the point perhaps farther than the author meant to imply, yet I was amused at the idea that all of us today are so monolithic in thought that certain old ideas are no longer feasible as artistic subjects. I would beg to differ, as I would postulate (from at least my own experience) that religious truths are even now a very present concern and impetus for the creation of true Art. To sum up? Not a bad book by any means. But it feels a bit dated (even though it was written a bare 30 years ago!) and I don’t think adds much to the general conversation. If you are an aspiring professional artist? This would probably be at least mildly worthwhile.

To Dream of Light

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And yes, I’m in my customary corner of Books and Beans…about to get a sandwich but first thought I’d post a few words! Had a pretty good week, albeit feeling a bit battered at work. Anyways, saw Les Mis last night with Tineke and Rosemary and one of Tineke’s friends…a very emotionally powerful movie – I am not usually one for musicals, but this was…hard-hitting and gripping and tragic and beautiful. Not sure if I can see it anytime again soon but…well done, indeed.

Today I will probably go back home and try to clean a bit, maybe make some spaghetti/salad for dinner and have a relaxing Saturday evening. It will be lovely, methinks!

And now – I posted this brief review on another site, but thought I’d put it here as well…most of you won’t have read this, but these are my thoughts on the ultimate book of A Wheel of Time. If you’ve not read this yet plan on it(Particularly looking at you, Laura!!), do not read the below!!


So.

It is done.

I took quite a bit longer to read than I normally do(helped by the fact that I had numerous things going on almost every night for the past two weeks!)…but I finished this past Thursday night, January 17th. When I had about twenty pages left, I got up to make another cup of tea…just because I wanted to delay the end that little bit longer. And oh, it was worth it. My feeling at the end, while one of sadness for “an ending”…was primarily one of…satisfaction.

I feel that any summarization of my thoughts or review of the book as a whole would be a meager reflection of my true thoughts and feelings while reading the book, but I will say that for the week and a half I spent reading, my thoughts have been whirling and my mind has been spinning and I will say the words that most accurately reflected the state of my musings after reading would be “dazed”…”battered”….”emotionally raw”…”euphoric”…”hollow”… indeed, I often felt I’d slipped partway into the emotional mindset of one of the soldiers on the front lines at Merrilor…under the relentless onslaught of the stench of death and the hot blood of thousands upon thousands…constantly wondering when the next betrayal would come or how salvation could possibly be wrought?

So really, I make this less a review of the great tome that is “A Memory of Light” and more of a melody of praises for the work that is “The Wheel of Time”. One of the finest fantasy series I have ever had the privilege of reading, and if not all things were perfect in the execution of this landmark of literature, maybe that accurately reflects the tale that was told – all stories change in the telling and the threads of truth interwoven throughout are beautiful.

I could talk about the forces of evil and the powers of darkness that descended upon the earth – Demandred and his armies(I can even now hear him shouting “Lews Therin! Face me and fight!” as he strides through the battlefield)…Taim and his dreadlords(what a fitting end did he have – destroyed by the Amyrlin – Egwene, that paragon of Light!)…Padan Fain and his fitting end as the worm he was…Graendal and Moghedien and their fate to survive in the world that is re-shaped without their influence…Lanfear and her ignominious death to Perrin – that gentle blacksmith who finally learned to do what must be done. I could discuss the failures of the powers of darkness and their weaknesses and flaws…their utter pride and slavery to the Dark…but this was not their story.

I could discuss the battle between Rand and the Dark One…their philosophical debate to span the ages…their weave and counter-weaves of worlds shaped to serve their own desires…but as some have mentioned, I feel this resolution of Rand letting the Dark One – that worthless mite, yea that evil void, the darkness unseen – go on existing was not as could have been. Indeed, as has been postulated above, choice – to live one’s own life as one will – does not depend on the existence of a Dark One, especially not one that was proven as insignificant and tragically pitiful as the Dark One was shown to be when Rand dragged It out squirming into the Pattern. I feel – although I could tell from the framing of Rand’s declaration to kill the Dark One that it was not to be – that the story would have been better served if Rand had truly killed the Dark One and crushed his head underneath his heel, as is ever fitting for evil. In the end though, I must again remember, this is a great work of literature in a fantastical world and cannot expect it to reflect perfectly these lives of ours in this universe of ours.

But no, what I instead choose to think on is the choices of the men and women in this world – those who fought and died for the forces of the Light, those who bled and suffered in the Last Battle because it was what had to be done. The villagers of the Two Rivers and the shining forces of the Tairens and Ghealdanians and the valiant soliders fighting under the banner of Andor – those men and women of the Borderlands who gave their last gasping breath to hold the Shadow at bay – those brave men like Hurin who had no great strength or mighty magic, but did what they knew to be right. Olver, crying in the shadows and being clawed at by the hands of evil and feeling abandonded by all…calling forth the forces of the Horn of Valere and realizing that he had not been abandonded. Someone came back for him and rescued him from the heart of darkness…oh Light be praised! And yes, there were many mighty heroes performing great deads on the battlefield – oh to see Lan Mandragoran riding on his mighty steed through the Trolloc hordes to reach the champion of evil – Demandred himself – and then sheathe the sword in order to crush the life from the mighty general of the Dark. I loved reading the exploits of these great heroes…Mat, Egwene, Elayne, Galad, Tam al’Thor, Perrin, Aviendha, Thom Merrillin…but in the end, the most thrilling and heart-swelling moments for me were reading of the ordinary men and women who were not valiant warriors or great heroes or wielders of great Power…those who fought and died for the Light. Androl, weakest of the weak – and yea, he fought. Talmanes, dying from the poison of a Thakan’dar wrought blade – and yea, he fought. Aviendha, crippled and dying and moments from death – and yea, she fought. The men of the Two Rivers, without arrows and with little hope of survival – charged the enemy just to salvage what hope there was left. The Dragonsworn who stood before Darkhounds at the very Pit of Doom in order to protect the last hope of the Light…

I feel I’ve already gone on to long, but reading of the great struggle of the Light versus the Dark and seeing the fight of the ordinary men and women in the Last Battle struck me powerfully and I wanted to share that with y’all. I’m looking forward to reading these again someday, but now, I will take a little more time simply to reflect and enjoy the memories this series has left me with. Light, but it’s been a good run, my friends!!

And a few more words…it is good indeed to read fun books like the Wheel of Time – truly, some of my favorite books I’ve ever read, and I can forsee they’re ones I will read often over again these next few years – and it is good to see the hope and the light that is in these works – pale reflections of the true Light of the Lamb of God, Jesus Christ, but light nonetheless! Just remember that we serve a real God, one who is mighty and sovereign and the true Creator…and One who loves us. Peace, my friends.

Light and peace and that
gorgeous brilliant
gleam of hope,
Kiss your brothers
and your mother
and your father
as we go dancing onward to that
final home.

Rest in peace and
live in light and
look to the hopeful
stars above
and be e’er embraced
by Jesus
our Lord
our Love.