Tag: book-reviews

Anticipation Speaks

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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.

Remember Fall

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A few book reviews this Saturday afternoon.

33. Gentle and Lowly by Dane Ortlund. An encouraging and wonderful book meditating on the heart of Christ and the wonderful mercies of God towards those sinners who he calls into communion with himself. There are many thoughts I have on this one. In some ways, it is a very simple book, focusing on the unique bent of God’s heart towards compassion and mercy (particularly brought to light in the chapter on God’s natural work of mercy and his strange work of wrath). In other ways, this book is quite a difficult one to read and understand, precisely because it is a book seeking to dig deep into the nature of God and to comprehend his attributes and very heart. And God is God. And we are not God. And to fully and completely understand God is beyond us. Hence there are times when my mind fuzzed as I sought to grasp the realities of God the author was attempting to unveil. And there are times when I was slightly wary of some of the concepts laid forth, especially as I was worried that a focus on the “gentle and lowly” nature of Christ’s heart would undermine the divine simplicity of God. I still fear I am not quite intellectually equipped to grasp all that I read. Yet? This book was wonderful at pointing towards Scripture (and other authors) and what they reveal about the nature of God. I simply loved all the authors (predominately Puritans – and Jonathan Edwards!) quoted and I will confess that probably most of my favourite parts of this book was reading these quotes. The author did do a good job of pulling these quotes into a cohesive whole and bringing to my mind thoughts about God that aided in my understanding and worship of Him!

I will need to read this one again. It is one of those uniquely wonderful books that combines both devotional thought and deep theological study. The chapters are short enough that one can read one in a few minutes and spend time meditating on what has been read. Yet there is enough deep theology packed within that I never felt the author was being overly simplistic or trite. If anything, this book undid some of my expectations (that this was just a light fluffy book about the love of Christ) and I’m most grateful I read it. I still believe there are some theological implications that I haven’t fully understood and I worry there are some who could read this book and come away confused about the nature of God, yet is that not the danger in any book written of God? I appreciate this book as being one that encourages us to think more on the heart of God.

34. A Severed Wasp by Madeleine L’Engle. A book that left me feeling conflicted. L’Engle writes gorgeously and to read this book of hers is to be swept up into a story of numerous characters that feel, act and speak like real people. Yet there are also parts of this book that simply irked me and felt a bit artificial at times. I love L’Engle usually so it pains me that this book just didn’t work quite as well for me (and I seem to remember I liked it more when I first read it!). Possibly reading it right after A Small Rain was not a good idea, as now that first book seems unmistakably superior to this one. I do appreciate this but do not think I’d read it again if it were not a sequel to A Small Rain. That book felt fresh and artless whereas this one feels a bit…overdone. I will echo thoughts I remember having the first time, that it does feel a bit as if Katherine Forrester (a remarkable character!) is almost too above reproach in this one. This book almost feels hagiographic at times! Indeed, she becomes a confessor to practically every character in this book, which felt a bit odd, but I think was a deliberate choice by the author. This read, I also realized some of the flashback sequences that revealed Katherine’s life post Small Rain had parts in them that bothered me much more this time. Surely this is just L’Engle sharing realities of life and attempting to show the costs of suffering, yet still…there were choices made that made me sad. No more said of that now.

Anyways, it seems like I’m being entirely negative and I feel a bit sad for that. There were elements of this book that I loved. L’Engle as always is remarkably good at showing the small everyday parts of life that so many people gloss over. I love the friendship between Katherine and Emily and how Katherine does such a good job of caring for Emily in her pain. I did love the large cast of characters, even if there are some broadly drawn ones that do not perhaps survive closer look. And of course, I love the reflections and meditation on both music and religion, and what it means to worship God. I do not think I fully agree with all of L’Engle’s conclusions, but I did appreciate her attempting to explore her theology in a bit more depth. Also – there is a cynicism and world-weariness in this book that I perhaps did not catch the first time – maybe it is just what comes with being a more mature author, yet still I did not appreciate as much on this read. Is this a bad book? No, it’s not. But definitely one that is nearer the bottom of my personal ranking of L’Engle’s works.

What is this Feeling

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A little book review this rainy Sunday afternoon.

32. Wandering Stars by Tommy Orange. A book that’s simultaneously an easy read while also being very likely the most depressing book I’ll read all year. And yes before everyone chimes in, I’m well aware that depressing books can and often are worthwhile in how they point out the horror of all that’s been and was and still is right under our noses. Still though? Doesn’t mean these books – or this one in particular – are quite the type of books I love to read. This book is a rough one. It frankly unveils the horrors of both addiction and loss of cultural identity as it explores the aftershocks and still reverberating effects of the systemic erasure of Native American life and culture throughout the United States. Sometimes one would wish that we lived in a world where such horrors were not perpetrated by those in power, yet we cannot close our mind to history or deny that such events ever existed. And so I’m grateful for books like this that seek to show through the sweep of history and might-have-been personal narrative that the brokenness of this world is not so easily fixed as some might believe. I also found reading it a troubling experience, a lot of content warnings here, as the saying goes. I really do hate reading books with addiction themes. And…pretty much every single main character in this book struggles with such. I don’t think I could read this book again. Yet still – I did breathe a sigh of relief to see signs of hope at the very end of this tale, a hope that points to something better beyond the curve of the road ahead. As much as addiction and loss are all over this book, there is also just a bit of recovery.

And beyond the addiction themes, there are many discussions of identity and what it means to have a certain cultural identity. What is cultural identity and what brings such? Is it blood, is it cultural heritage, is it geographical longevity and ties to a certain piece of land? Is it familial connections or is it merely knowledge and being connected to that which came before? We all long for an identity as such – we wish to be known and valued for who we are – but who are we? It is difficult for me to overmuch critically analyse this book as I’m aware there are many questions that I am ill qualified to answer. This is a book written from a cultural minority viewpoint and thus questions are raised that I have never had to face sheerly due to the – at least outward – fact that I am in a cultural majority position. Does this mean I have the luxury of not thinking or caring about my cultural and/or ethnographic identity? I would argue part of my apathy in regards to such lies with my belief in Christ and that my true identity is found in being a Christian. Such tags as “race/colour/nation” are not ones I resonate with and find them less than helpful at times. Yet still I must and do recognize it is easier for me to shelve those labels as I don’t have to live in a society in which I am a minority. I must remember this. I don’t think this is a book I shall revisit and likely one I will not keep on my shelf. Yet. This book spawned a lot of thought and I am grateful for such, as much as I did not always agree with the author on some of the answers he pointed towards. I am grateful for the author sharing his perspectives and yes, even a piece of his story.

Lions and Cloudscapes

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I am a bit too far behind on logging books so decided I really should get to work on that. Hope this doesn’t take too long, but no promises!!

28. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen. I have now read the penultimate unread Austen that I will ever read. And that strikes me with sadness, but it would not do to let that impede me from reading these last two (this one and Mansfield) – for is it not terrible to think of me hoarding unread books indefinitely? And thus it happened this past month that I finally lifted this book off the shelf and turned to the first page and started a delightful journey. For in truth this book was a delight. Does it bear the marks of a first work? Which – upon further research – I discovered this was the first of her books that she completed, even though it wasn’t published until after her death. And yes, to answer my above. This book definitely is a bit less mature and full than her later works. It’s absurd in many ways and definitely the least “Austen” Austen I’ve ever read, but still I kind of love it? This book is humorous, ironic, playful in all the right ways. Her writing is quite arch and ridiculous and I love it. And even though the main character – one Catherine Morland – is quite silly and preposterous at times, I only need to remember that she is in actuality only seventeen for it to all make sense again. There is lots in this one to love and I shall certainly return to it for re-reads in future.

29. Evangelism in a Skeptical World by Sam Chan. A solid book helping me to understand that evangelism may – and should – look different in different cultural contexts, including generational ones. I’ve been thinking on this subject recently, especially after reading the biography of John Paton a few months back, and so this book came at the right time for me. Too often I feel it’s easy to think of “evangelism” or “sharing the gospel” as something that must be done in a certain way or following a certain method, and Chan does a great job of refuting that mindset. In truth, sharing the gospel is simply telling someone the truth of how God has made a way to have real relationship with Him and why this is something utterly existentially necessary to every person on this earth. In stating the previous sentence as I have, I have already made choices in how to present this truth and there are leanings and perspectives that I have unwittingly betrayed as I attempted to state the good news of God’s gospel in as simple a fashion as possible. Chan helps us understand some generational shifts that have taken place and how we (at least those of us in the West, for he speaks to predominately a Western audience here) have moved perhaps past the point where a strictly apologetical and fact-based approach resonates with the majority of people. I was intrigued reading about the shifts that have taken place and how Chan has in his own ministry noted that people respond to gospel presentations very differently now than even twenty years ago. Maybe we in the West now respond to more of a story-based approach than the old more structured gospel presentations (such as the Four Laws, bridge diagram, etc, etc). I am very much simplifying this book but what I’m saying here is what stuck with me. Chan attempts to go much deeper and to highlight and give examples for different methods of sharing God’s gospel with others that may be more effective. In all of this, the part of me that hates pragmatic Christianity and tactical discussions cringed a bit. Surely, it is not us who can change the hearts of man? May it never be thought. And Chan rightfully affirms that only God can truly change the hearts of men and women and draw them to Himself. But does God not use such mean instruments as ourselves? And give us wisdom to understand different ways of communicating and approaching others with the greatest story ever told? And so I appreciate this book as one that makes one think more on how we might be lights and witnesses in this modern age. Perhaps I do need to consider more carefully my friend groups and how I might live my life in such a way to more clearly and boldly proclaim Christ. Maybe I do need to think on how I present Christ to others and how the stories I tell can be used by God. Part of me winces a bit at how much Chan loves the story or example method in his talks and speeches. I don’t think I will ever love the leaning on such. Yet I do understand that there are times when stories and parables are brutally effective and useful. Did not Jesus tell stories? Did not Jesus give examples from real life to indicate spiritual truths? So might I too not get too defensive when I hear of preachers and pastors using stories to point to the truths of God. This has been a bit of a rambling review and I apologise for that. I will say this book was worthwhile and made me think a lot about evangelism and how I approach it. Very worthwhile read for that.

30. An Experiment in Criticism by C.S. Lewis. As anything written by Lewis, a very worthwhile read. I much enjoyed this little book (or really almost an essay) sharing Lewis’s thoughts on literary criticism and the desired result of reading a truly good book. As always with Lewis, he makes some firm statements that really cannot quite be backed up, yet I did chuckle as I felt very validated on my stances on re-reading (very very pro) and also enjoyed Lewis making quite clear that reading a work is not simply about the imparting of information for its own sake but that in actuality the reader when reading enters into an actual transformative experience – i.e., the reader cannot get the same effect simply by reading the summary of a work, but that a work is the sum of its parts – content, prose, structure all, and if one truly engages with it will reap a corresponding reward.

I feel as if my mind doesn’t quite work at the same level as Lewis’s (shocking I know), and so it’s challenging for me to truly grapple with this book as I feel it deserves. Yet if anything, I think it made me revisit and think on why I love the books I do. And it also made me desirous to continue to seek better books and to read the truly excellent. Lewis is a bit much sometimes when he attempts to classify the types of books and types of readers that fill the earth. Maybe a bit dogmatic yes and in this day and age, he can even strike one as strident. Yet also I think we could use a bit more of Lewis in this modern age. It is bracing to remember and be reminded of the fact of objective beauty and truth. Yes, almost transgressive no? What does that say about us? And Lewis does not deny the usefulness and delight of different types of works. He is anything but haughtily pretentious in his discussions of literature. He sees the value in works that critics would sneer at, and for that I love him.

31. The Small Rain by Madeleine L’Engle. I still love this one. It is passionate and dreamy in all the best ways. It is a tale of a girl who has yet to truly understand the world or herself. It is the tale of a girl who sees with the maturity of one beyond her years because she has already seen so much and been through so much yet you’re often reminded that she is really just a girl. Katherine Forrester is one of my favourite characters to revisit – as I’ve been reminded as I read this one – and though at times she seems almost alien in the way she hovers above the text, there are brutal moments when all crashes down to earth and Katherine is revealed as oh so human. For a first book, this is revelatory. If only I could write like L’Engle. There are some of her quirks that will be further utilized in later books, but there is also a freshness here. Yes, it’s an adult book and thus some heavy themes – do not read this if you want a light read! – yet this book does not delight in the darkness. There are some descriptive passages that made me almost want to weep for beauty. Yes yes, I know I’m biased because I love L’Engle’s writing so, yet I truly believe this is a wonderful book. This is a book that just works as a late-night read, good for being curled up on the couch with a candle burning as one’s mind slips into a state suspended between the waking world and the world of dreams.

Another Turn about the Room

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A few book thoughts this grey Saturday.

26. Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf. A strange and beautiful delight of a book. Typically one reads a book and feels that one has a decent understanding of it and feels satisfied upon reaching its close. To the contrary with this one – I feel that five more rereads will not begin to plumb its depths. And I greatly look forward to reading it again. I could talk more about the many characters who are so richly presented and teased throughout – the titular Clarissa, Peter Walsh, the Warren Smiths, even all the smaller bits that still receive more lavish study and attention than the main characters in most other novels – the scene-stealing Sally Seton, the contradictory Mr. Dalloway, Elizabeth and Miss Kilman and others. I think that’s what I loved most about this book, the empathetic and deep look into the lives of those who in other cases would be passed over as mere superficial things. Of course the imagery and description is simply luscious. This book is veritably cinematic. But even so, much of the action is internal and in the minds of the characters we follow, so in a way – is this a story that can only be told properly in the form of a novel? Perhaps perhaps. I feel as if I need to read this again in a year or so and see how it strikes me then. The storyline following young Septimus and Rezia – powerful and affecting and the scene near its close still haunts my dreams. I think on how Septimus and Clarissa mirror each other in certain ways yet wonder on the thread that binds them. Also it’s fascinating seeing the comparison and contrast between Sally and Clarissa and the lives they once led and the lives they now lead. Are they so different now after all? Many more words I could write but I fear without insight. This book is not one that can be entirely captured or comprehended on first read.

27. Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar. This book is written masterfully yet I confess I struggled with it at times. The themes in this one are deep and rich and highlight the inability of the mundane and human to fulfill the eternal longings of the soul. For what are we on this earth? Why do our hearts cry? I wish I could write half as well as this author, whose prose is such that it quickly and incisively places one in the midst of a richly textured scene, all the particulars laid out that one can imagine you’re actually there, watching and hearing and getting swept up in the drama of this young man Cyrus Shams. The character work is strong and though I’m not always a fan of many POVs, the author here handles it marvelously, even with the dream sequences that while a bit self-indulgent, are a delight to read and aid well in developing and revealing the character of our protagonist. I do feel though that the scenes where Cyrus is center were my favourite and I was always excited to get another glimpse through his eyes. This book is a weird one yet wonderful – showing us a man who feels a bit lost and searching for meaning, trying to understand how an Iranian-American can feel at all at home in the Midwest, USA. Does he have a home? Or will he forever be an outcast, a wandering pilgrim in a land that knows him not? I will always resonate with a book and protagonist that has poetry and art – I do love a book where I feel a bit akin to one who feels so fulfilled in writing and where the struggles of such are laid bare. There is a great line about the best part of writing being what comes after it has been accomplished and the satisfaction and feeling of completion it brings. I wish I could whole-heartedly recommend, but as those who know me would not be surprised at, I did cringe and wince at times at the profane and graphic content in this book. Not a fan, though yes it is a part of reality of life. Still, I struggled with it and thus would not recommend this book to all. Yet! There is beauty in this book at times. A bit dreamy and searching and I appreciate reading the heart cries of one who knows this world is not enough.

oh Winter where is thy sting?

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17. Song of Spheres by Walker Larson. Well, this book was definitely interesting. It was a book that I was hoping to love – elements of science, space travel, philosophical questions all. Yet at the end of the day, I found it wanting. Several reasons and I’ll be brief because I don’t really want to spend all that much time writing about this one. Spoilers follow so please be warned if you care for that sort of thing. Firstly, the scientific concepts at the core of this one threw me for a bit of a loop and I’m not quite sure if the author believes in a geocentric model of the universe or not, but I’m left puzzled. I suppose from a conspiracy theory perspective, it’s fascinating to believe it might be true. But for a whole book centered on it? Oh wow. Oh dear. I will give this book some points since I now want to read some actual non-fiction books on astronomy and the earth since this book annoyed me with so much of its science. So yeah, if you want a thriller about a bunch of scientists proving that the sun revolves around the earth? This is your book. Secondly, the prose and craft in this book were…lacking. Thirdly, as much as the book hints and suggestively raises its eyebrow at philosophical questions and the place of man in the world, it never quite goes there. That frustrated me. Either go there or don’t. If you want a book discussing the meaning of life and and the place and purpose of mankind and the possibility of God…well, then, dive in!! This book dances around the edges and never quite commits. All that said? It did keep my attention! I read it in only 2 nights because I really did want to see how the author would wrap up this story. There are certainly thrilling moments! I slightly apologize for being so harsh here, especially as I’m sure this author is still learning his craft and I can certainly not confess I could write anything better. But poor storytelling and wonky science annoys me. What can I say?

of lights we sing frantically

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A few little book reviews this night. At least I hope they’re little. We shall see.

13. And Once More Saw the Stars – Four Poems for Two Voices by P.K. Page & Philip Stratford. A strange and wonderful poetry paperback I stumbled across in a random second hand bookshop in B.C. a few years past. Finally picked it up off my shelf and I’m glad I did. This is a strange example of genre that I don’t quite know how to classify, even though I’m sure it’s been done before. It’s two artists writing poetry together – a renga, you may say – and it’s slightly offbeat but yet still beautiful the way the voices weave together. The poetry isn’t always exactly my style or to my liking, but yet I still fell under the spell of this book and perhaps that for a meta reason. Page put together this book following the death of Mr. Stratford who died before finishing their lyric dance. The poems are interspersed with the written correspondence enclosed with each succeeding stanza (sent via the trusty mail service – not quite the internet days!) and to be honest? I think I enjoyed this book primarily just to see the way these two poets talked about their poetry and the process and the struggle and the little quirky asides they tossed out as they cobbled together these whispers of the heart. Like I said, if this was just a book of poetry, I may have found myself most unimpressed. But instead…this is a book that is a bit of a window into two artists, showing the collaboration and writing process in a way I’ve not seen it done before. Even my copy has another meta layer on top, with a previous owner making random corrections and comments throughout! I appreciated the tribute to Stratford here and the vulnerability it takes to publicize this correspondence between writers. Grateful for a window into the creative process and it’s made me think more about why and how I write what I do. And some of the sonnets really are quite good! Especially Wilderness I & II – those burst with greater magic and unveiled greater wonders to my soul. This was a worthwhile book and I shall return to it. I came for the poems. I left with the story of two writers whose hearts yearned yet to write of beauty.

14. The Overstory by Richard Powers. There were some things in this book I really loved and there were some things in this book that I really…did not love. And I walked away from this book wondering if maybe Richard Powers is just not the author for me. This is Powers’ magnum opus, the book that won him the Pulitzer and so I assumed that this book would properly wow me. Yet. And. Still. Something in me just doesn’t respond to the way Powers writes and I fully confess it may be my inability to grasp entirely what Powers is attempting to communicate. If anything, it puzzles me because I had a similar reaction when I finished Playground (his most recent book and maybe not the right Powers to start with!). When I finished that book, my ending thought was “Hm.” Same here. I will definitely say one thing though, this book is better than Playground!

Yet I’m already writing too many words and to prevent myself from going overly long, let me say a few of the thoughts I had on this one in more details. Spoilers may follow, be warned if you care about that sort of thing. This book is the tree book. Anyone that’s heard of this book or glances at the title can guess that. And one of the strongest recommendations I can make for this book is that this book definitely makes me want to know more about trees!! As I walk around my neighborhood and my city, I have found myself looking at trees and noticing them in ways I certainly didn’t before. What tree is that? Is it good that there are that many young trees planted close together? Why is half the tree flowering and the other half not? So many questions that I want answers to! I am shamed (though I hope I’m not alone) in realizing how many trees I walk past every day that I can’t name. I am too Olivia (though not Maidenhair, as we’ll get to). If anything, this book made me wish this book was simply a science book about trees and all the wondrous fascinating facts about them. I need to source such a book. But instead…well, and this gets to one of my issues with the book, I struggled to know which was truth and which was fanciful imagery and which was anthropomorphic language and which was possibly some magic realism. There is so much going on with trees here. Yet as much as Powers continually makes it clear the sins humankind is committing against the planet and the trees that inhabit it (and ourselves and our descendants), I was left much fuzzier on what Powers was attempting to communicating about the true essence and reality of trees. Are trees sentient and attempting to communicate to us in a way we simply can’t understand yet? If we had sufficiently advanced computing power and the eyes to see, could we understand the many whispers of the winds that bear the wisdom of countless living, flowering arboreal wonders? In a way, I think Powers may be too clever for me and that the messages he seeks to communicate are cloaked in ways I struggle to grasp. I had the same issue with Playground.

I did much enjoy the early parts of this book – I loved all the individual short stories that told of the lives of so many different people. I initially thought this book was to be entirely a collection of short stories and their connection to trees and the trees’ connection to them and I was here for it. I was so psyched for that book. And I think I was mildly disappointed when those expectations were dashed and I realized all the characters would all interact in their various ways (some more obvious than others). The second part of the book was the weakest by far. Yes, I suppose it was a bit interesting in some ways to see the futile warring of the few against the apathetic selfish tyranny of the many and the attempts of the so-called “eco-terrorists” to save mankind from itself. Yet for some reason the characters in this section all felt a bit caricaturized, a bit plastic. I lost the thread of who was who and what their motivations were. I did really like Dr. Patty Westerford’s sections and though profoundly depressing for multiple reasons, I thought Neelay’s sections were fascinating as well. Yet the rest? They all tended to blend together a bit and I found myself pushing through the brutal horror of it all just to see where Powers was taking us.

I also think I struggled with Powers’ writing style. The metaphors and analogies he uses so often threw me out of the story in their odd juxtaposition to what was occurring on the page. Too often the phrases and imagery felt just a bit too carefully-constructed and artful instead of beautiful and true. This may just be personal taste on my part, but I think I just don’t resonate with his writing style – a bit too much crudity and even a tending towards voyeuristic tendency at times.

Though I struggled with the middle of this book, the end definitely got better and I’m glad I finished this one. I still don’t quite understand what Powers is trying to say – but I appreciated the fact that the ending tone seemed a bit hopeful and optimistic despite the cynical undertone running throughout. Powers is not leaving us in despair – he believes there is reason to hope for good things for the future of this world. Though I’m not quite sure computers and their ilk are the answer, it is fascinating to think of such. Is our incapacity to love each other and our world a product of our own innate selfishness and apathy or simply an inability to understand the messages written in every corner of this world? Do we have an excuse to enable us to continue our way without considering the fact there may be greater truths in this world than we now consider? Perhaps. I’m sure myself and Powers would disagree on what these greater truths are, but I appreciate that he is seeking to use his skills as a writer to tell a story that makes a difference. For true stories have the power of change. But only true stories can do such. This story contains kernels of truth and though I do think Powers’ style simply isn’t for me, I’m grateful this book is in the world.

Target Bridge is Falling Down Falling Down

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All the books all the books!!

10. Books in Black or Red by Edmund Lester Pearson. Ok so this book was not what I was expecting. It’s more of a hodgepodge of essays on bookish matters than a cohesive narrative and well…I am warned straight up in the author’s note of such. So really it is my own issue that I was a bit caught off guard with how random this book is. But there are some gems here, for sure! If you like books and/or reading and want to read about attitudes towards books in the early twentieth century, well then – you may like this! It is very random though, be warned. Some of the chapters are great, particularly the chapter on the Cary Girls and the Book Shop chapters. Other than that, I think this book is of value primarily for its historical value – we peek from a window into early 1920s America (specifically New York City) and smile as we see the author’s thoughts on dime novels, nonsense tales, literary personae and modern trends. We see sly asides here and there (Prohibition has begun!) and we get a flavor of this author’s very firmly cynical attitudes toward modern ideas of progress. I enjoyed this less than I thought I would, simply because there is much in this book that sailed over my head, as so many of the books and tales he references are…much less known now. Maybe this book hit harder back in the 1920s, I know not. Still though, grateful to have read this and contrary to all the eye-rolling the author would send my way for doing this, I’m likely to keep this book on my shelf purely because of its 1923 print date. Hey, at least I don’t organize my books by colour.

11. The Narrow Road Between Desires by Patrick Rothfuss. I just don’t know anymore, Mr. Rothfuss. I really was excited to read this one – it has been far too long since I’ve read any new material from your pen and I recently discovered this on the shelves of a bookstore in Paris. What! New Rothfuss?!? I must read. Clearly I have been out of the loop and didn’t realize this had dropped. Everything Rothfuss has written, I’ve loved. Slow Regard of Silent Things – purely fantastic and delightful and fully of whimsy and joy and melancholy all. I really must revisit it, now that I think so fondly of my memory of it. And of course the first two books of the Kingkiller Chronicle are superb. Not without flaws, no. But fantastic books in their own right and even if the third book never comes out, I’m ok with just those two on my shelf and I shall re-read every now and again. But…what is up with this Bast novella? Where is the magic, where is the joy? I found the prose strangely wooden and affected. It didn’t have the wonder and joy I remember from the previous works from Rothfuss’ pen. Maybe I have just changed? Maybe if I re-read Name of the Wind I’ll find myself similarly left cold? I think not, but now I shudder at the small possibility. But this book did not do it for me. Honestly as much as I complain about the lacking prose (compared to what I know Rothfuss can do), I think the real problem here is the protagonist. I don’t like Bast. I didn’t realize how much his character irked me until now, but this book did him no favours. I suppose Rothfuss intends to show the wild fae nature of Bast in all his sly glory, yet…honestly? Bast is a creeper. The majority of this book is him hanging around with small children and setting up a situation to spy on a young woman in her bath. Um ok, cool. And maybe this is just me being hyper sensitive and modern in my sensibilities but…I didn’t enjoy witnessing Bast in all his prancing, prying and creepy ways. Not sure if the author entirely realizes it or not. I feel a bit bad because I really do appreciate Rothfuss’ other works. And writing these harsh words feels a bit of a betrayal. But…something is off about this one. And reading his author’s note at the end didn’t help much. Instead of smiling at him providing a touchingly intimate tale about his children and his desire to write a “good” story for them, I just noticed the way he compared the themes in this one to the inferior themes in books such as Narnia, Lord of the Rings, etc. I’m sorry but…no? The truth and beauty in those books are so far above anything this novella could hope to dream of.

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.

Firewood

James HoganLeave a comment

New year, new books! Admittedly…some of these were read last year, but just getting around to writing these now, so just going to count them for this year. That’s allowed, right? Right??

1. Christmas with L.M. Montgomery by L.M. Montgomery. A sweet little book of short Christmas stories by one of my favourites. Yes, the stories are a bit twee. Yes, please don’t read these if you are wanting stories that are subversive or surprising. They’re just cute little Christmas stories (3 of them) that will hit all the classic marks and that you will probably read in less than 10 minutes. Or maybe that’s just me. I almost felt like these tales were a homage to Alcott at times (a few subtle clues that signify such and the writing really felt like Alcott’s style!). Anyways, I found myself smiling reading these.

2. Reclaiming Masculinity by Matt Fuller. An outstanding little book. Well worth the read. I started reading this on a recent flight expecting that I’d read the intro and maybe part of a chapter or so, but the author’s writing was so compelling that I found myself reading this book in one sitting, just finishing as plane was landing. I will confess that I picked this up not sure what I was getting into. There are many books on Christian masculinity that seem to be pushing one particular agenda or another and I was a bit doubtful this book would prove to be all that fruitful. Yet? While I’m not sure I particularly learned anything brand new, this book was a good reminder on what are the hallmarks of Christian masculinity, as well as what does not signify such. We are in an age where depending on your culture, religion, or creed (or lack thereof), manhood may look quite different. Some may even cringe to see the word “masculinity”, with all the negative connotations that go hand-in-hand (especially tied to the word that most would associate with it these days – toxic) and some would roll their eyes even to think we need to discuss such an archaic and/or outdated word that assigns traits or qualities to a particular gender. I would argue this book is well needed, now more than ever.

The author writes with superb tact and skill, coming from a Christian worldview and going often to the well of the Bible. Yet the author is very self-aware and understanding of the world and culture (specifically Western evangelicalism) in which many Christians find themselves living. He writes with compassion and yet surprising firmness when necessary. He seeks to understand women’s perspectives and fears – something that is sometimes sadly lacking in Christian books. I found myself enjoying yet also being convicted by the way the author talks about specific Christian masculinity and what it means to be a man according to the Bible. He is not overly dogmatic or pushing of certain cultural norms. Instead, he acknowledges that masculinity may (and will!) look different in different contexts and that we as Christians need to be very careful to not forbid something the Bible has not forbid, neither mandate something that the Bible has not mandated. This is a book written in times where many would dare say there is no substantive difference between manhood and womanhood, yet the author clearly and boldly proclaims that there is a real and meaningful difference between the two. I appreciate the author’s reliance on Scripture, care to understand the current times in which we live, and winsome and frank dialogue. I also appreciated his British humor – it very much helped leaven the work with occasional levity! I think I also appreciated reading an author who is not in the American evangelical sphere (nothing necessarily wrong with that, but good to read other perspectives). Also, with much relief I can report that this book doesn’t just talk about the man/woman relationship. The author speaks of the relationships a man will have in his family, in the church and in the world at large, acknowledging that there is much more to being a man than simply being married or having a child. It discusses the importance and necessity of solid friendships and of mentoring relationships.

One more point? Some books are timeless and you can read them in any year and they will be fruitful. This book (published in 2023) talks about recent events and the ethos of the western age and I am grateful for it, as much as I usually prefer reading old books. The topic of masculinity is one such that I feel a recently written book can be exceedingly helpful as it speaks to the age in which we live and acknowledge the realities in which we daily walk. I could go on and on, but at the end of the day, would heartily recommend this book to any man. (my female friends – I dare say you could also read this book and be encouraged! at least I dearly hope so!)

3. The Rhythm of War by Brandon Sanderson. Finally completing my re-read of the SA prior to the release of Wind and Truth. I will say, while this book disappointed me when I first read it, perhaps my expectation this time was low enough that I actually enjoyed this a bit more on re-read! I still think that Sanderson’s books have suffered from severe bloat with the last few installments and I still maintain that Sanderson’s reliance on telling instead of showing is severely handicapping his story-telling yet…this book isn’t all bad. There are some epic moments here and there, especially as we come to the end of the book and a twist happens with a particular elderly king and a particular ancient god. And while the flashbacks are not as exciting as in previous installments, I think I appreciated them more this time because I was able to slow down and take my time in then, knowing we weren’t really getting any particularly juicy revelations. I still think the contract made between Odium and Dalinar was pretty underwhelming, but that was kind of the point, I suppose. Also – the interludes continue to be top notch. I am firm in my belief that Sanderson writes best in a single POV and in short stories.