Tag: books

With a Cherry On Top

James HoganLeave a comment

Hello friends! A Saturday morning here. Dani making some breakfast and the plans for the day still to be decided. For now? Decided I would try and catch up on a few of my latest reads! I’m dreadfully behind ahhh!! Well, I will make this quick.

58. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone by J.K. Rowling. Yup, decided it was time for another re-read. I do love this series, it is warm and comforting like a fluffy blanket on a cold day. This first book? It is simple and sweet. Very much a typical children’s book in that classic British boarding school tradition. The writing is pedestrian and the plot is very basic. If this were the only book in the series, I doubt Harry Potter would be the cultural institution it is today. Yet? The imagination in this book is wonderful and all the groundwork Rowling sets up to give the world its colour and sparkle is something to behold. I am always a bit jealous of Rowling’s imagination! There is so much colour in this book, so many little details that make Harry’s world feel so utterly real.

59. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J.K. Rowling. Rowling finds her groove in this one. Her writing already feels much more confident and the story itself much more compelling. Yes still obviously a children’s tale, yet I felt myself enraptured by the story yet again even though I’ve read this one who knows how many times! I still find the spider scene one of the most terrifying scenes in all of the seven books. And the end confrontation scene between Harry & Riddle/basilisk is simply top notch. Beyond all that? Rowling continues to fill in her world and once again, I find it so pleasurable simply to immerse myself in it.

60. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J.K. Rowling. Another rollicking tale and probably the last one that feels purely like a children’s book. There is some time travel wonkiness yet Rowling does a great job of making it make sense as you read. It’s only after the fact that you start going “Wait a second…” I like seeing the children continue to grow up and their characters continue to deepen.

61. The Door by Magda Szabó. I don’t know if I can exactly call this a beautiful book, but wow is it a good one. It’s certainly one of the finest written books I’ve read in quite some time. I thought this might be a bit of a struggle to get through, yet once I started, the story pulled me in and I never slowed down. This is a challenging piece of fiction. It’s a fascinating character study and relational drama both. And I’m not sure when I’ve last read a book that made me think so much, both about the complex natures of individuals and the way we interact with those we love. Of course there’s a lot here that would likely make a bit more sense if I had grown up in Hungary, yet even so there is much here that transcends culture. This book does not shy away from the darker nature within all of us. Some passages are truly disturbing, some elements that horrify in their brutality and rawness. There are no black and white characters here, each character multi-faceted and understandable in their motivations even as you cringe a bit at their behaviour throughout. I’m grateful I read this one – the prose is truly top notch and the story strong. Will I re-read this anytime soon? Probably not, yet it has earned a place on my shelf. I loved this one. Of course I’m biased a bit, already loving Hungary, its culture and its people. I need to read more Hungarian fiction, I think.

fifth row baptists

James HoganLeave a comment

Hello friends! A sleepy Sunday post is in order, methinks. And as matter of fact, I think this post shall be mostly just me rambling about books. Because of aforesaid mentioned sleepiness, I don’t think this shall be a long post. But as always, we shall see! Be well, one and all.

53. Thank You, Jeeves by PG Wodehouse. Absolutely fantastic. I have heard of Wodehouse and the Jeeves stories before, of course. I knew they were a part of the British literary canon that I was remiss in reading and that I would need to remedy such at some point. Thankfully, due to a fortuitous encounter in a remarkably well-stocked book section at a Goodwill, I decided it was time to read my first Wodehouse and this was it. I was not disappointed. The humour was top notch. Of course humour is subjective and I’m sure some would bounce off Wodehouse. For me though? Perfection. I wish I had half the wit and verve of Wodehouse – I’d read line after line of writing that simply crackled with absurd hilarity and wonder how on earth he managed it. If you like absurd off-the-wall ridiculousness married with near-perfect prose, I think you’d enjoy this. I know I did.

54. The Holiness of God by R.C. Sproul – A book that grabs you by the collar and simply won’t let go. I’ve read this once, many years before, and I recall how much this one gripped and shook me. Reading it again now, I marveled anew at the holiness, grandeur and glory of God. I am grateful for this book of Sproul’s, one that does not apologize for the God of the Bible, the God who is proclaimed in all its pages and of whom creation shouts in chorus. Sproul is unapologetic in ascribing a place to God that is far separate from the place reserved for the rest of creation. This book feels at times as if it was written in a time so different from our own, a time when the other-ness of God was not as alien a concept as it seems to be in this age in which we now live. Of course this book wasn’t written that long ago – 1985 – still yet it seems as if the God Sproul preaches would be anathema to the majority of so-called Christian teachers in this day and age.

We at times seem to spend all our time crafting a God that fits our idea of goodness, justice and love – a God that we feel comfortable with and whose ideals mirror our own. This is idolatry, pure and simple, and Sproul calls that out. He doesn’t quite wade into all the depths of ontology and epistemology, yet Sproul does ask that we cease from demanding that God can only be God if he fits our pre-conceived notions of what God ought to be. How often have we heard or uttered the phrase – “I could never worship a God who…” Instead of screaming our rights into the void, perhaps we ought ask the question – Is God real? And if so, who is He? And what is my response? This is spadework and not always comfortable. And I’m not saying Sproul is hand-holding us through this journey. Instead, Sproul simply and faithfully discusses the God of the Bible, the God as revealed in both specific and general revelation, and explains who this God is and why he is worthy of our worship.

At the end of the day, the way we live our life is governed by who we see God to be and who we see ourselves to be. And Sproul clearly and concisely draws back the curtain and shows us the tiniest of glimpses of the reality of the God who made all things. Sproul is just a man and all too fallible and so of course this book is not perfect. Yet it is one that drove me to my knees as I consider what it is that I live and breathe in a world made by a God so utterly holy that to gaze upon Him would utterly undo me. Who am I, a jar of clay and oh so foul and depraved? And yet also am I not one crafted in the image of this God I long to know? There’s a mystery there – how can I be made right and gain communion with this God who seems so far from me? Has God spoken to us and given us a way to be right with Him? The name that is above every name is spoken by my heart and I tremble. I raise my hands and drop any claims I have and bow the knee to the One who made all things. This book is one that I need to read again and again. God is God and I am not. Remember this. Remember this.

55. What Does It Mean to Fear the Lord? by Michael Reeves. A wonderful little pamphlet walking us through the concept of the “fear of the Lord”. This can be very confusing, to be sure. I’ve had conversations with people who refuse to believe that Christians should “fear the Lord”. And part of that is likely due to the inability of the English language to properly define this concept, this idea of trembling joy and awe and love that comes face to face with understanding who God is and what our proper response to Him is. This is a very little book, but Reeves does a masterful job of walking through what fear of God is, and what it isn’t. The fear of the Lord is not a cringing fear that drives us from God in our hatred of who he is. Instead, the proper fear of the Lord is a recognition of the nature of God and the proper response of humility and love that draws us closer to our God. I feel this is a ongoing thread in my reading of late but I shall state it again. God is God and I am not. Let us remember that, and as we understand ever more who God truly is, our fear of Him will be that fear which spurs on a delighted awe and love as we humbly bow before our Creator. A great little read, heartily recommended.

56. Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. This book frustrated me at times. There are some beautiful little moments and I greatly admired the themes of the author and what he attempted to point towards. It is rare to find a modern book which preaches such themes of Christian love and humility and it made me glad to see such praised in this book. There is also such a wonderful focus on the worth of every person and the idea that all of us have a story that is worth knowing. I was under the impression this was a secular book and was pleasantly surprised discovering the Christian themes that lay at this book’s core, even identifying Theo as a little Christ-figure and one who attempts to point us to that light, that fountain, that Jesus that is the only source of life and truth. Yet. Apart from all that, this book was a hard read at times. I admire the author’s aims, but the book wasn’t always an easy read, at times overly twee, at times overly artificial and manufactured. This felt like a book with too many cardboard cutouts, not enough real people. I often found myself struggling to make myself read a few more chapters. And the major revelation at the end of this book does some major damage to the book’s theme of selfless love for the other and make one wonder if the author truly realize that his attempts to tie up all loose ends into a tidy knot actually undercut some of the strongest themes of his tale. Ah well. I enjoyed parts of this book. Unfortunately the book wasn’t particularly well-written and I think at times the author spends too much time telling, not enough time showing. Maybe some people like the didactic hammering on the head. For me, not so much, even when I tend to agree with the author’s belief system. Main problem at the end of the day? The author’s skill was not quite up to snuff to tell the story he was attempting to tell. Still though, I admire the attempt.

Towards Dawn we March ever So Slowly

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Hello friends! A few words on a couple of books. I shall not be overly verbose this day, I swear.

51. The Wise Man’s Fear by Patrick Rothfuss. Oh Rothfuss. Leaving us hanging, are you? As I neared the ending of this one, I felt a few pangs of sorrow, knowing it is most unlikely we get a concluding book to this trilogy. Alas, but still I enjoyed reading this one, even knowing not all the questions shall be answered! I love how Rothfuss writes and this story continues Kvothe’s tale in all its glory and grandeur. I don’t like this one as much as the first book, perhaps partly because I feel this book stumbles a bit when Kvothe leaves the University. The first third or half of the book at the University is a delight to read, even if possibly it could have been drastically cut simply to move the plot along. The University portion really isn’t necessary to the story. But you know what? I don’t care. As someone who loves all the world-building in-between-filling prose of the Wheel of Time, I can’t hate the fact that Rothfuss takes time to simply show Kvothe’s continued growth at the University. My favourite parts are simply the times Kvothe is spending with his friends in all their ridiculousness. More of this. Less high drama please. I wrote a good bit more about the plot but then realised I really don’t want to summarize the whole book and erased all of it. At the end of the day, I do enjoy reading this one, but really don’t like how the author’s view of sex permeates the latter portions of this book and turn Kvothe into someone who it’s hard to root for. I’m much more on Denna’s side by the end of this, feeling a bit hurt and cast aside by the Kvothe she always felt she could count on. Still a beautiful story well told, even if he probably could have used a better editor to hustle along the plot. We may never get book 3, but at least we always have these first two. I honestly don’t really care about all the big questions – Chandrian, Amyr, Lockless box, Four-Plate Door, Kote/Kvothe mystery, etc. Honestly, I think Rothfuss shines most at the small moments – friends around a table at the tavern playing cards…music soaring through the air as Kvothe plays an old song and everyone sings along…Kvothe on a windy night gently conversing with a moon-bound girl. Rothfuss excels at these intimate scenes with characters you care about. I think Rothfuss should just tell Kvothe’s adventures at the University and forget all the rest of it. Would be a better tale, methinks.

52. The Trellis and the Vine by Colin Marshall & Tony Payne. This book is fine. I have had it on my shelf for a while and thought I may as well read through it. I confess I struggle with “church tactic” books and this one was no exception. I know such books and discussions are necessary. And there’s not really anything wrong with this book, per se. I think I just find myself wearied by books putting forth the newest, latest-greatest discovery of how to do church ministry right. I’m doing this book a disservice. The authors are humble and acknowledge the lineage of church-growth trends and fads and attempt to make it clear that due to the multiplicity of church locations, styles and cultures, it is certainly impossible to impose a one-size-fits-all approach on a local church. Still yet, the book at the end of the day doesn’t contain that much that is new. Yes, discipleship is crucial at a local level. Yes, future leaders and gifted contributors should be identified and encouraged. And I appreciate the authors making it clear that all growth in a church (both spiritual and numerical) depends on the grace and power of God. Of course God does use means and the authors are attempting to put forth a strategy of disciple-making that they feel best fits the New Testament context. But at times, it feels as if the authors are attempting to make the verses they cite say more than they actually do. Even so? This is not a bad book. It is important to remember that local churches should attempt to minister to the people in their midst and part of such will be raising up the next generation of leaders. There were a few times I felt uneasy and that the authors were almost implicitly giving permission for church leaders to ignore the weaker and less-than in favour of the “people to watch out for”. That’s not entirely fair and I do understand any leader has to make hard decisions on how to spend their time. Still yet? Books such as this just give me a little twinge of unease at times. I thank God for his work in the church and that whatever the latest trend du jour is, he will continue to build his church. We must not be passive ourselves and we must press forward to encourage and build up our fellow saints. But always and forever, we lean on our Lord Jesus Christ and worship Him. One of the best things a church leader can do is model what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ and proclaim his beauty and majesty in ways that make it impossible for outsiders to ignore the strangeness and radicality of the church of God. I’m grateful for books such as this that attempt to highlight ways churches have found profitable to glorify Jesus Christ and make Him known. But just know there is no one cookie-cutter way, there is no one tactic that can be deployed blindly in all circumstances and find success. Only through ceaseless seeking of Christ and utter reliance on the Holy Spirit can we in faithful witness strive. We set our hands to the plow and we know we are not alone.

Considerations

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A few thoughts on a few latest reads. Peace and love, my friends.

49. The Abolition of Man by C.S. Lewis. As always, Lewis is a profitable read here. This small volume is one I’ve had my eye on for some time and grateful I finally got the chance to read it. Lewis always makes me think, and this book was no different in stimulating various pathways down which my thoughts danced. Every time I finished reading a few pages, I felt like putting this book down simply to consider and ponder what I had read. What is this book on about? It could at times be thought of as Lewis attempting to address the rising tides of post-modernist thought. Or it could be said that this is Lewis attempting to uphold the standard of the real and the true and the beautiful, as he so often does. At the end of the day, I would argue that this is Lewis attempting to write a philosophical work grappling with the core truths of this world and creation in which we live and attempting to do so without explicitly defending Christianity or even theism as such. Yes, he in text acknowledges himself as one who is a Christian and holds to this faith as what he believes is true. But as Lewis is so fond of pointing out the truth kernels at the bottom of all true myths, so Lewis here points to the underlying beliefs and statements found in various forms throughout the ages which show us ever so clearly that there is something true in the heart and conscience of every man, no matter how we attempt to degrade and mar it. And Lewis also attempts to highlight the utter uniqueness and glory of man – something that we now see as a bit crude if not outright chauvinistic. Nature is not truly agnostic after all, Lewis would argue. Instead all points to a core and utter reality that is perhaps not quite able to be grasped in its totality, but still glimpsed at from various angles for those who have the eyes to see. I have rambled on about this book long enough and fear I have not done it justice. This is a book that makes one think, and for that I am grateful.

50. Humble Roots by Hannah Anderson. A wonderful delight of a book, bracing in its clarity and sparkling in its beauty. I have had this book on my shelf for years(!!) and yet never quite got around to reading it until now, to my shame. Many thanks to Julie for recommending it to me who knows how many years ago. For truly, this book was good for my soul. I found myself eagerly waiting for the next opportunity I had to read a chapter and I daresay I will find myself re-reading this one for many years to come. This book is an odd hodgepodge at times. Each chapter has a bit of a framing device using the author’s experiences and memories in rural Virginia – usually highlighting a fruit or flower or some such. This could be seen initially as a bit distracting from the main message of humility yet…perhaps I was viewing this book in the wrong lens at first and perhaps my view was a bit narrow! I was thinking “Ah, this is a book about humility, and will have lots of Bible verses and discussion on Christian truths.” And well…this book is about humility. And it is fairly saturated with Christian truths. And also? This book contains so many beautiful reflections on the truths we see proclaimed in the created beauty that we see around us and even in the every day mundane. So yes! This book is about the beautiful and the mundane, the glorious and the common, the divine and the created. This book is about what it is to be humble before God, truly understanding who we are and who God is. This book is about toil and labor and about trust and rest. This book is about looking to Christ in all his glory and beholding Christ in all his humanity and recognizing that in Him we have found our way to God. This book contains so many gorgeous ponderings on the every day and was a help and an aid to me in being able to step through the day with the understanding and confident belief that God walks through us in the midst of all the muck and mire in which we find ourselves and that no matter what comes, our God is with us still. This book firmly points to the sovereignty of God and the frailties of man, yet not without acknowledging the call that comes to us to walk in obedience and toil and labor before our God yet understanding that the burden is not on us to accomplish the miracle of bringing seed to fruit. Very grateful for the simple and beautiful ways the author has of highlighting a truth and making it sing in the heart. Of course it does not hurt that so many of the authors and works the author cited are also some of my very favorites (Andrew Murray, Wendell Berry, ML Jones, and many more). I would recommend this book to anyone who feels tired and weary and in need of rest. This book points to the one who can bring true rest to our souls. Oh how good it is to ponder the one who is the Resurrection and the Life and the one who is our hope and our song and yes even our salvation!

Splish Splash

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Hello friends! Saturday here and it has been a productive one thus far. I am pleased. A nice walk down MKT way when I woke up. Yes it felt like a sauna, but was still lovely to stretch my legs and wake up both in body and mind. Following, a bit of coffee and reading time. And then? Dani and I got to work! It had been far too long since we’d had a good deep-cleaning session, so it was time. She worked on kitchen and bathroom and I moved furniture and cleaned all the long-rooted dust and dirt and debris that had made its home in all the dark undisturbed crevices of our little domicile. A few hours later, we feel tired yet happy. A good morning’s work. Now? I rest for a minute here on the couch and soon we shall gallivant off somewhere in town. But figured I’d grab the spare minute here and write a few words on my latest read.

48. The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss. Oh I do love this book. I felt in the mood for a comfy and beautiful fantasy recently and realized I hadn’t read this one in a while. Picked it up off the shelf and sunk into it and…yup, every bit as good as I remembered. I don’t care about all the fuss about this being an incomplete series and likely never to be finished, etc. Even so, this book is a worthy read and always makes me happy. Reading it now a good 15 years since I first read it, I can recognize that I’ve grown a bit in mind and soul and there are parts of this book that make me roll my eyes a bit as I recognize the immaturity of the boy at the center of this one. Yet Kvothe is quite young and so I suppose it’s proper? I simply love the style in which Rothfuss writes – it’s lovely and poetic and he has such a way with words. Yes, the tone can be a bit condescending and overwrought at times, but even then I don’t care all that much – the moments and scenes that Rothfuss describes are just so beautiful. There are several sequences in this book that pull at my heart strings almost every time and near on make me weep for beauty. This isn’t a perfect book but I shan’t point out the minor imperfections now. I still love this one and firmly believe it’s one of the finest fantasy works written in the past thirty years. I honestly can’t think of a better one at the moment.

Upon the Brow

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Hello friends! A quick little post this evening before I dive into a bit of reading. I have just started a re-read of Name of the Wind and oh I had forgotten how much I love it. I am delighted anew as I read the words dance across the page. Yes this series may never be finished but I’m ok with that – the beauty in this book alone is enough. So yes, reading time awaits. It’s been raining much of the day and so it’s been that grey kind of day that lingers in the bones and makes one linger in the moment and ponder what’s come before. I am happy though and even pleased that I got to write a bit earlier (scroll down). Don’t take any of it overly seriously – all the writings were just little pieces of imagination attempting to let my creativity do something worthwhile for once. Not entirely sure I succeeded with any of them, alas. Especially the poems were something dreadful now that I look at them in the harsh light after the fever has worn off. I don’t know what’s going on, poetry used to be my bread and butter and now it seems a bit drab and off and doesn’t flow as well as it used to. My prose is where I live these days and I suppose I’m grateful for that. But I’m tempted to focus on poetry more now just to see if I can reclaim the flame and dash off some lines that make me smile even after the fact. We shall see, we shall see. Anyway, I’ve talked far too much about writing and not even sure why I decided to write this piece at all. But I will let it live, I suppose. Thoughts on the page are a reflection of lightning in the mind and I am grateful to have these odd writings to look at after a time. Whenever James-of-the-future re-reads this, he will maybe be puzzled at the existence of these lines yet I urge him to think that in this moment I feel at peace and oh so very alive. It is these quiet moments where the candle crackles and the music floats across the room and I look to see my wife smiling to herself that I cannot deny the magic of this life that I somehow have been graciously given. It is good for us to be here.

Astonished

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A few little thoughts on a few little books this lazy Saturday.

45. The Gold at the Starbow’s End by Frederik Pohl. A collection of sci-fi stories by Pohl, this was a random free pick-up from an airport’s donation shelf. Win! I enjoyed a few of these stories but have to confess that Pohl’s style just may not be for me. Felt a bit dated and though some of his concepts were interesting, the tone was a bit overly cynical and the mood a bit dour. Not for me.

46. Bionicle #1: Rise of the Toa Nuva by Greg Farshtey, Carlos D’Anda, Randy Elliott. Right so throwback time! Reading this little graphic novel (less of a graphic novel and more of a compilation of the first few Bionicle comics) just filled me with all the nostalgia. I remember reading these comics back when they first came out when I was a kid, believe back in 2000-2002 or so? So reading this now was an exercise in happiness and warm sentiment, to be sure. But I do have to confess that I think I really only enjoyed this for the fond memories. Because of the way Bionicle lore and story was unfolded, these comics felt a bit scattered and partial at times, only telling small snippets of story. The rest of the story was told in some of the games and online resources that were out at the time. So I did not entirely remember all the interlude bits and found myself a bit confused! But hey ho, the art was still as gorgeous as I remember and reading this just made me smile. I still remember the wonder I felt at reading that first comic, watching a world come to life before me in all its mythic glory. And I will always fondly remember this franchise for the part it played in my own development. Not sure if I’d be a writer today if it were not for my first fumbling attempts exploring the Bionicle mythos back in the day!!

47. Silas Marner by George Eliot. A wonderful book. As soon as I started reading this book, I sighed in satisfaction, realizing anew how much I love Eliot’s writing and how beautifully she tells a story. This is a simple story in a simple setting, but oh is it told well. While at times Eliot can get a touch overly didactic and the narrator’s voice can intrude a bit more than I would like, I still love how Eliot treats characters and so beautifully shows how the decisions we make in our life affect the meandering course of our precious souls. There are some powerful moments in this one and some moments that made me smile for the beauty and truth contained therein. One of the minor characters unveils her philosophy around chance and providence in a way that made me lift my head and ponder as the simple statements she made in dialect contained some of the most powerful and encouraging truths I’ve read in fiction in a long time. I really loved this one. And I would strongly recommend it as a great introduction to Eliot to anyone who’s not read her yet. It’s so short in comparison to some of her others!

That Peculiar Summery Shade of Green

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Hello friends! It is Memorial Day and while I’m grateful to not have a full day of work, Dani and I are both a bit saddened that our sick and weary bodies are keeping us from enjoying a proper day off. Ah well. I had a nice little walk when I woke up this morning (walking the MKT trail before 7am is always fun – you see the real ones!) and Dani and I went for a grocery store run a few hours back, but apart from that? We have had a most lazy and quiet day. I guess that’s good? My chest congestion continues to linger and annoyingly enough I’d even guess I have a small fever just now. But someday I pray my body shall recover and I will feel healthy again. Someday! I’d also like to write something creatively. Perhaps after I dash off a couple quick book reviews. It made me happy yesterday to write a little prose, as feeble as it is at times. Ah writing always relaxes and invigorates my mind. I need more such sessions. But as I seem to be rambling on without end, let me talk a bit about a couple books and then we shall see if my rambling extends to more poetical endeavors.

43. The Seven Dials Mystery by Agatha Christie. It had been far too long since I’d read a Christie, and after finding a few new ones I’d not read before at local used book shop, was hankering to dive right in! This one scratched the itch and it made me happy (albeit confused) as I read. Christie is her usual masterful self in this one. All new characters in this – not a Marple or Poirot to be found! – and I enjoyed as always the little window into 1920s Britain. The slang is always amusing and I don’t know, I just enjoy seeing the interactions between the young men and women in this – made me realize that things haven’t changed that much in the past 100 years! The mystery was solid too – though I did get a little suspicious partway through and half-guess the villain, it wasn’t by any means obvious. Typical Christie finish here, with plenty of twists and turns and very satisfying denouement. Glad I picked this one up.

44. A Ring of Endless Light by Madeleine L’Engle. In the mood for something homey and real and encouraging, I grabbed this from the shelf as it’d been a while since I’d read it. It was exactly what the doctor ordered. Full of L’Engle’s typical mix of the mundane and the ethereal, I found myself quickly engrossed in this tale of a young girl growing up one summer as all changes around her. I love the family dynamics in this one, I love the conversations, I even somehow love the various interactions Vicky has with her 3(!!) suitors, even though I think I remember that annoying me first time around. I do love how L’Engle writes dialogue and back-and-forth conversations about serious matters. Though I don’t always agree with some of the particulars of L’Engle’s theology, I love how she asks the questions and truly engages with the possibilities raised by this broken wounded world we live in and a God who is real. This book also has L’Engle’s penchant for the strange and beautiful as we vicariously thrill through Vicky as she swims with dolphins and touches the faint after-images of the divine touch on creation’s weave. This book isn’t perfect and there is one character in particular I really don’t quite like – oh Zachary Gray! – but at the end of the day reading this book was a comfort and joy to me. We need more books like this in the world.

Anniversary

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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

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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.