Tag: books

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.

Tower of the Moon

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Quick book thoughts this Monday morn.

25. How Long, O Lord? by D.A. Carson. A superbly brilliant book on evil and suffering. Carson looks at a topic that is not an easy one and with a pastoral heart and incisive mind attempts to put forth a Christian framework for understanding the horrors we daily see around us in this world in which we live. I would argue that Carson succeeds and my heart was very much encouraged reading this one. This is one of the biggest problems many people have with the idea of God or of Christianity. If there is a God that is so loving, then why evil? Then why suffering? Then why so many horrible things do I see on the news each and every day? Carson does not diminish or downplay the evils we see in this world, if anything, some of the examples he gives of severe suffering and loss are almost too much to read. Yet Carson also very much wants to look at this hard topic from a Biblical perspective and explore what the Bible has to say about suffering and evil but most importantly of all, what does the Bible say about the God who is in the midst of us, even now sustaining and holding this world together through his sovereign power. Does the presence of God in this world mean he smiles upon the darkness that swirls over the face of it? May it never be. Does the presence of evil upon the world that God has made mean God is incapable of holding it back? May it never be. Does this impinge upon the nature of God and the love that we so rightly ascribe to Him? Absolutely not.

This book is one that I shall revisit. Carson does not write this book as a balm or aid for those currently going through suffering (a fact that he reiterates), but rather – he writes this book as a preventative, a book to aid the Christian in understanding the problem of evil and suffering and how the God we worship yet reigns, rules and loves us still. This book is written to give us a higher idea of God and yet still encourage us that we have a Father who cares for even the smallest concern we have. The author acknowledges and leans into the mysteries that we cannot now fully understand (if ever) and is so concerned to rightly place those mysteries, which he locates in the very nature of God which our limited minds cannot fully grasp. The author is very much concerned that we not assign to God that which is not assigned to Him in Scripture and he is very much concerned that we do not contradict that about God which is fully asserted in Scripture. I very much appreciate Carson’s reliance and leaning into the Scriptural text and how it informs us of the God who is.

This is not a book written for those who do not know and love God, though I think it would be an interesting book for a non-Christian to read as it gives an insight into the Christian perspective on evil and suffering and how we as Christians grapple with such. For myself, I found myself profoundly encouraged by this one and seek to use it as Carson intended, strengthening and buttressing my understanding of this topic so that even as I go through trials and tribulations in my life yet to come, I will have a Biblical understanding of suffering and the God who is yet present. The chapter on Job alone was worth the price of admission. Very grateful for authors who write with such clarity of thought yet also such an overflow of empathy and compassion, even seeking to show us how we can best be with those who are suffering even now. It is rare to find such a balance. I cannot recommend this one enough.

Lovingly She Said

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23. Meditation and Communion with God by John Jefferson Davis. A really rather wonderful book on the reality that is true communion with God. It is easy to say trite phrases such as “God with us” or “When two or more gather in my name, there am I with them” and nod our heads and think yes of course we are Christians and we acknowledge that God is real and God is with us. But what do these truths actually mean? How can we understand ontologically what it means to be found in Christ? In a deeper philosophical sense, what does it mean that the Holy Spirit is within us and somehow someway working in us? How can as Christians meditate in a way that is healthy, theologically sound and yet also profoundly real? This book is a wonderful essay thinking through some of these questions in a way which speaks to my soul. I confess, I first read this book some 12 years ago now – when I was still residing in Aberdeen! – and I remember being much moved by it and giving it pride of place on my bookshelf. I have not read it since then and recently as I’ve been meditating more and more on the reality of what it means to abide in Christ, I wanted to give this book another whirl and see how it struck me this time. Well I will confess that apparently either I have not changed that much (false, to be sure) or this book really does hold some pretty profound truths – and wonderfully incisive phrasings to hit home – on the nature of our communion with the true God. This book is not exactly an easy read – there are some concepts that are quite difficult to get your mind around. But is that not only proper? Though I found some of the metaphors a bit wonky and maybe less helpful than the author intended (I really could have done with less of the Skype metaphor!), I do appreciate the effort the author took to try and clearly communicate what it means that we in actuality participate in the work of Christ in a real and abiding sense, just as we in actuality participate in heavenly realities in a way which is more real than we fully now understand. The author does a wonderful job of discussing some heady concepts in a way that enflamed my soul with awe as I considered the truths of being a new creation through the work of God in my life. The author also dives deep into what meditation can look like and how it can be practiced in a way which is both biblical and grounded while also very and almost mystically real. I don’t claim to fully understand how God is constantly at work in those who are his, but I can say with confidence that this book was a wonderful aid to my pondering the truths of God and His works in our lives. And I loved the strong Trinitarian theme that runs throughout! Again, the author does not shy away from hard sayings! Instead, the author digs into the Scriptural texts and seeks to bring out their truths into the modern age. Yes, there are a few sayings and quotations in this book that perhaps make me nervous, such as his quoting of persons from a very diverse set of Christian persuasions, yet I cannot find fault with this author for being willing to learn from those who may not come exactly from one narrow stream of Christian thought. At the end of the day, I appreciated the fact that this book was soaked in Scripture and written by one who most clearly knows God and seeks to know Him more. Oh how I long to seek my God thus – and this book mightily encouraged me in that quest and gave me such a sweet desire to draw closer to my God.

24. Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. A remarkably unique book. I have not read this book in many years – I believe since my college days! – and I recently felt a desire to read some more Lewis and realized I had this book on my shelf and simply must revisit! It was interesting reading it now and I had to be careful to not be overly critical at times! As always with Lewis, I am always finding little things here and there that I don’t quite agree with and sometimes the way he approaches a question feels a bit forced and sometimes I was wishing for more Scripture! Yet! That last complaint especially is a silly one, as I realise that Lewis is writing this book (or rather – gave a series of talks) primarily to talk to those who do not yet know Christ and certainly would not respond well to a scriptural quote-fest! This book is an apologetic book, walking one through the journey of considering the possibility of God and what that may mean to our lives on this earth, particularly if this God turned out to be the Christian one that has been shown to us in the revelation of His Word, firstly in the person of Christ and secondarily in the inspired Scriptures. Lewis’ style is – as always – a delight. It’s simple yet deep, bracing yet fatherly. We get a sense here that Lewis is genuinely trying to tell us something that he actually believes is really true. Which. Yes. In pondering this book, part of me is annoyed that Lewis doesn’t come out and say things more forcefully at times. Yet is that not purposeful? Lewis here is not trying to outline in detail a particular line of dogma. He very clearly states up front that he’s not calling for one denomination or sect as true or false and he also very clearly states – again, aggravatingly at times – that he believes most traditions have their validities and can lead to God. Yet this book is about giving someone the opportunity to ask questions about the nature (or even possibility) of God and then gently guiding them down the path of what this then must necessarily entail. I love it for that. This is a book I can easily recommend to someone and then say – read this then let’s talk for a while. This book doesn’t have all the answers – really, what book does? – but it is a marvelous primer for one who is wondering about God and thinks that maybe there’s something out there? Yes, it’s a tad dated now, written near on 90 years ago, and so maybe Lewis doesn’t quite talk or write in the way it would be the most helpful for those of us in the 21st century. Still though? There is definitely utility to this one and as always with Lewis, there are those sentences and paragraphs that shine with the most brilliant clarity and truth that you take a gasp in awe. So many nuggets that Lewis just casually drops in front of us. I could go on and on with some quibbles here and there, but really, I don’t want to debate Lewis on the details here, because the point of this book is to point us in the direction of a real God who really communicates to us and who really, truly wants to be in communion with us so that we can in actuality be transformed into who we are truly meant to be – sons and daughters of God. What this means we cannot now know, but we eagerly wait for the day when all shall be revealed. Lewis talks about real things as being real things. If God is real, what does that mean for us? What shall we do with that information? That’s a good question. I shall end with some of Lewis’ own words, which I feel will be far more valuable than my own.

“Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it. The principle runs through all life from top to bottom. Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end: submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life. Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.”

Amongst the Willows

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More thoughts on more books.

21. Tales From the Perilous Realm by J.R.R. Tolkien. Of course this one was lovely. It’s Tolkien and his prose and wit is always a delight to enjoy. And enjoy I did! This is a slender volume of a few of Tolkien’s short stories – none of which I have ever read – along with some of his poetry, some of which is quoted (either partially or in full) in his other works. I will confess that I do not think Tolkien is a brilliant poet, but I still smiled to read his poems nonetheless. But his stories? They were full of creative whimsy, humorous & beautiful all. The last story – Leaf by Niggle – has so many pointers to higher things that I think it would take ages to unpack it all, yet it did leave me thinking about some of Tolkien’s theological beliefs. More than almost any other work of his did this work indicate his thoughts on one’s purpose on this earth in light of the eternal. I am always grateful to read more Tolkien and always impressed by the creative fire that burned within his soul.

22. The Work of the Pastor by William Still. A remarkable small book on the most important work a pastor can do for his flock. Namely – feed it. I could write paragraphs and paragraphs on this book, yet I think that sums it up well enough. This book is based off a series of addresses to ministers (or ministers-in-training) given by William Still in the last century. William Still is a former pastor – now gone to his rest – of Gilcomston South Church in Aberdeen, Scotland. And he spent over fifty years pastoring this one church. That may seem remarkable in this day and age, but this experience enables him to preach with conviction one of the themes of this book – focus on feeding the flock which is yours and avoid being distracted by other things, as shiny or diverting as they may appear. Preach the word! In season and out of season, and so William Still did. And so in reading his advice to other ministers, it helped to keep in mind that the advice he gave was coming from a man who believed so strongly in the power of the Word of God by the workings of the Holy Spirit. He states simply that he could in and of himself do nothing for people. Only God can change hearts. And one of the primary mechanisms for working in hearts is the Word of God which has been given to us. And so Still exhorts ministers to avoid spending time on frivolous side-ministries and to avoid spending time chasing after those who do not want to be chased. Instead, a pastor simply must be faithful to his congregation in providing them what has been given to him to preach. A pastor must have a strong relationship with Christ and love Him above all else, for this light shall not go unnoticed! A pastor must keep his focus narrow and allow the Spirit to work through his congregation and their giftings to accomplish the purposes of God throughout the community and the world. There are many nuggets in this book and far more I could discuss but I fear I have already been overly verbose. There are parts of this book where the author is very strong, almost too strong I could fear. But that is just my soft modern ethos speaking. I appreciate the author’s boldness and burden for the church. And he speaks strongly because he knows the ministers he is addressing need to be convinced of the truth which he shares. Grateful for this pastor and the work he did in Gilcomston South. Grateful for his frankness and passion in sharing with us all the “secrets” to pastoring a church. It really is quite simple in the end. A pastor of a church is an under-shepherd – one tasked with growing and maturing his flock to offer them as living sacrifices to the Good Shepherd. And so this shepherd – pastor – must know his flock intimately and feed them well. This is a hard task and not meant for many. But God shall richly reward his faithful servants.

The Writings of Mr. Lucius Cavandar, XII

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A few thoughts on a book this lovely springtime day.

20. John G. Paton – A Missionary to the New Hebrides by John Paton. A fantastic autobiography, truly one of the most inspiring and interesting books I’ve read this year. I’ve had this book on my shelf for over a year now and never quite got to it, partly because of its size and partly because of my terribly misplaced thought that because it was a 19th-century autobiography it would be a slow and tedious read. Oh how wrong I was. This book was action-packed (truly!), quick paced and a joy to read. But what is it about? Well, it’s the story of a man’s missionary life in the New Hebrides, an island group a bit to the northwest of Australia. John Paton was a Scottish man who set his course to follow the directions of his Lord and his heart burned within him to go and preach the gospel to those who had never heard such a wondrous mystery. I keep wanting to go into detail on this man’s gospel-fever and his quest to speak of love of Jesus to cannibal heathens and his delight in seeing the Spirit work, yet I cannot do this book justice with my feeble words! But I feel that this book (published in the late 19th century itself) surely is an essential read to anyone seeking to do missionary work in a far off land. Paton discusses the travails and struggles of working with a people whose culture and ways are oh so different…yet he also speaks of the ways in which the men and women he encounters are not that different from the Scottish folks he had left behind. And you’ll notice earlier I used the word “heathen”, a word (along with pagan) that Paton is not shy about slinging around during his narrative. That may seem crass and misguided in this day and age, but of truth I was a bit delighted to read Paton using this word in the sense in which it is the most fitting – of those who do not know God or practice the works of God. As Paton’s work progresses, he is unsparing about his comparisons of the natives he has settled amongst versus the people of his homeland and is very fiery in his describing the majority of his fellow countrymen back home as “white heathens!” Paton with love and grace shows how God works in hearts of people throughout the globe, no matter their colour or race. Yes, some of his descriptors and tone may seem a bit outdated to our modern ears, but all in all, this is a sound book, full of the passion Paton has for seeing the gospel of Jesus Christ be made known. And just as Paton describes the struggle of missionary life in the faraway land, he also spends much time (perhaps too much for my liking?) describing the most dreaded part of all missionary life. Fund-raising. There is much discussion of Paton using his skills in public speaking and relationship forming to criss-cross Australia (and later the world!) to raise awareness for the mission to the New Hebrides and the needs that could be met if regular church-goers felt the urge to give and support. This book felt remarkably modern with Paton’s very real and practical discussion of what was needed to keep the missions supported. At times I felt I disagreed slightly with the approach taken (multiple large collections taken to purchase their own ships which seemed to me perhaps not the right move?) and at times I felt I was only hearing one side of the story (which, true – as this is an autobiography!), but in truth? This book is remarkably valuable as a primary source and a work in which a missionary describes in detail his work over the course of many years. It is even fascinating observing how Paton’s own beliefs change over time. When he is in Ireland for one of his fund-raising tours, he mentions his impatience with the whole “Organ Debate” and the question of instrumental music in churches. He mentions his former staunch belief that instruments should not be allowed in churches but that his practical experience in the New Hebrides using instruments and the singing of hymns changed his mind for good!

I mentioned earlier that this book was action-packed and quick-paced. That is true. There is so much going on, lots of adventures that Paton is involved in (truly only God could have protected him during the many perilous encounters he was involved in!) and the way in which Paton describes the natives and the conversations he had with them is utterly gripping. At times I wished Paton had maybe described himself and his family a bit more (his wife and children were mentioned barely at all!), but that is not Paton’s focus. He is – probably rightfully – focused on the task at hand, the mission to the natives of the New Hebrides and his heart burns to make known the tale. This is not a man writing something so that he might be known by posterity. Nay, this is a man writing a very gripping account of present-day happenings that he might spread awareness of his mission and the work that God hath wrought in lands long-thought unreachable. I would strongly recommend this book to any missionary or anyone with a heart for missions…and indeed, any Christian whose heart thrills to hear the accounts of God working, which even to this day He is.

Lifelines

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A few (very few! I promise!) thoughts on books this Saturday afternoon.

18. To Challenge Chaos by Brian Stableford. I’m typically a big fan of Stableford’s weird and wild sci-fi books, but this was a bit of a miss for me. Probably the worst of his I’ve read. Yes it still has Stableford’s characteristic breadth of imagination and delightful prose, but the story itself was a bit too colour-by-number. Almost felt as if one was tossing Canterbury Tales, Hyperion and an Orphic legend into a pot and stirring to see what would result. And the result is muddy. Ah well.

19. The Ancient One by T.A. Barron. I may be the wrong audience for this. If I was 11 or 12, it’s very possible I would have loved this fantastical adventure. As it is, I was left a bit cold. After recently reading Richard Powers’ “Overstory”, I wanted to read another tree book and found this one recommended. It certainly does have strong tree-themes, but it’s a bit more YA than I was anticipating! Lots of Native lore and environmentalist themes which in and of themselves is not a bad thing, but the story itself felt a bit on the nose and also boring at times? I struggled to want to pick it up to read and forced myself to finish. I will say the last quarter or so did finally engage my attention! Not a bad book, but again – maybe it’s my fault for being the wrong age when reading this!

The Process

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What one does when one seeks to relax says a lot about a person. Or at least, that’s what I’m pondering now as I – in my own way – spend a few minutes sprawling on the couch attempting to put words to page. When one’s creative juices have gone dry and there are no more faded memories fit to be mined, what does one write about? Well that’s when it all goes meta and the wannabe author starts talking about the process of writing. Nothing more boring for the non-author, am I right? But for some of my fellow authors, well…maybe you’re interested in what I have to say? At this point probably not, because I’m just spinning my wheels in this endless intro and you may now suspect – and you’d be right – that I don’t actually have a plan for what I’m writing. And there’s a reason for that.

I most certainly cannot speak for all writers but guess what? I can speak for myself, and so I do. Writing is something that ends in somewhat the same destination. There are words on a page (or on a screen, or on a wall, or various other surfaces, who am I to judge) and these words are presumably an expression of the author’s mind. Yet the process of writing varies in an almost infinite kaleidoscope of ways. The routines and the tics, the little tricks an author does to trick himself into writing something that could be construed as creative are some of the most treasured tools in the author’s toolbox. And I cringe that I have finally used the dreaded toolbox metaphor. Oh may I never do such again.

And I have now wasted another paragraph spinning my wheels. Oh what is this nonsense! I could be smug and say there is a purpose to that and you know what? There is. But I must also be a bit humble and admit that the fact I have spent two paragraphs talking about nothing to illustrate my point is a fortuitous turn of events that I did not realize its ultimate end until now. And that point shall now be illustrated.

Simply this – and I am proud to think that I am alone in this technique but I am sure I am not and I wait for the other writers to hoarde around me and echo that I am not at all unique – I write of random thoughts and tidbits in my brain knowing the writing soul shall not awaken until I give it a good few kicks. Much as one primes a pump, I know that my best output won’t happen right away. Indeed, I can stare at the screen all I want but it is very rare that my best words bloom immediately. Instead, I write. Sometimes nonsense, such as now. Other times, I will visualize a random scene and simply write what comes to me, allowing my imagination to slowly wake and rub the sleep out of its eyes as it looks around and sees what there is to see. But this is the important thing. I write. It is the most basic and excellent writing advice there is and it is preached for a reason. It works. How does one write? You write. It matters not what one writes. Of course eventually one may seek for quality and depth of substance in one’s prose or poetry, but initially? Just write. I stretch my mind and as I write and let my fingers outpace my conscious mind, sometimes I am even stunned at what is eventually resting on the page, alive and vibrant with meaning and truth that I did not myself know was waiting to spring forth from my soul.

I crave to write things that are of beauty and truth. I often fail, it is true. But occasionally I succeed. And I cannot credit my own foreknowledge or depth of craft that I possess in such meagre quantity. Instead, I am grateful for what I have been blessed with, the ability to communicate somewhat of the miraculous, releasing spirit thoughts from my brain to the great beyond, words on a page. If I simply put fingers to keyboard and pound away, eventually some gold emerges from the dross. Not all the time. Not often even. But when from beyond the great sea come words that ring true in a way that leaves my soul in stunned silence at what has been wrought? I lift my eyes to heaven and say a prayer of thanks. For this is how I rest, by pounding out the fresh harvest of my thoughts so that the chaff may be released and perhaps pure silken wheat may be left behind to witness true. I don’t know what it says about me. But in this ultra modern era in which I inhabit, I write to rest. Writing slows my thoughts and reveals inner dreams that soothe and invigorate my very soul. I cannot promise any of these words are or will be of any use to anyone else. But writing them was of use to me. And why not now release them into the wild? These words are not of anymore use to me now – may they run off into the woods and bless who they will.

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?

Looking across the Sea we Sigh

James HoganLeave a comment

A few books this Monday evening.

15. Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner. A delight of a read. A book that I quickly found myself swept up in, even now struggling to disentangle myself from the lives of these characters I have found myself so fascinated by this past week. My first Stegner and it shall certainly not be the last. His prose is simply fantastic, efficient where it needs to be yet allowing itself to linger over the starkly beautiful in the appropriate moments. His character work is simply phenomenal, each main character breathing and living in such a way I find myself surprised to consider that these may not be real people. Yes, the supporting characters are all a bit plastic and one-note, but the main four? Sid, Charity, Larry and Sally…wow. Perhaps Sally doesn’t quite come across as full-formed, perhaps the halo that descends upon her head once she succumbs to the Great Trial of her life seems a bit much, yet…even that makes sense, as the protagonist cannot help but paint Sally with perhaps a kinder brush. And of course the couple of Sid & Charity – the center around which this novel turns. Perhaps I’m tempted to assign Charity as the true center of this novel which makes sense in light of the fascinating dive into the relationship of Sid and Charity and the roles they both play. Yet still, I see Sid and Charity as a couple and do they really make sense apart? I think not. The end of this novel may seem abrupt but I think only fitting. The characters in this novel are not always shown in the best of light and I think that appropriate for a novel which attempts to simply portray a life-long friendship between two couples for what it is – four very different people interacting in ways which do not always come easy. It may be easy to judge one or the other. But this novel is not about casting judgement or assigning blame. It is simply a curtain raised and actors upon a stage, only partially aware of the part they perform. And this novel is more than a character study, as much as I’ve focused on them. There are remarkable scenes of description of nature and stillness as well as the revelation of life in an age that now seems bygone. I cannot quite resonate with the world of academia yet I found myself fascinated by it nonetheless as I consider the might-have-beens. I love the look into post-Depression America and the characters it bred. And though I may never own a property on a delightfully secluded lake in the northeastern US, I will enjoy the pleasures of reading of such and imagine I too could spend a summer there. Ah but I go far afield. This book has many delightful set pieces, many scenes that I will have stuck in my head for a while, I’m afeared, so powerful is Stegner’s descriptive prose. I may never listen to Beethoven’s 9th in the same way again. I’m sure there are quibbles I could make with the book here and there, but honestly? This was a delight of a book. It’s an adult book yes. I can’t imagine it hitting the same chords if I read this when I was growing up. Even now, reading this as a married man hits in a way I don’t imagine it would if I was single. And I appreciate Stegner avoiding the overly-crude or profane. I find Stegner remarkably restrained in the episodes he chooses to portray and the focal points he draws attention to. In a way, I too wish I could spend my time writing poetry instead of slaving away at the work I do. In a way, I wish I had a scholarly job writing articles and books and spending prolonged periods in Italy. I long for deep conversations about true things with my closest friends long into the night. Thankfully that last is a bit more attainable. So for me, this book feels like a long-lost friend. As I end this book, I return to the characters. So many questions I have. So much treasure to be mined as I consider the themes of friendship and jealousy, vanity and ambition, love and hate – is it not remarkable how many of these strongest of emotions we can feel for those whom we feel ourselves closest to?

16. Rich Wounds by David Mathis. A gloriously refreshing book to read as we approach one of my favourite times of year – Passion Week and Resurrection Sunday. I did not deliberately choose this book at this time for that reason though. I simply wanted a book that was about Jesus, a book that helped me in my meditation of His person and works. And this book delivered! Made up of many short chapters (easily readable in small chunks of time!), this book was good for my soul. The whole book was profitable, but I found myself most moved and encouraged by the section on the Passion Week itself, each little chapter focusing on a small detail of the day at hand. Mathis does a remarkable job of mining truths from the text and I am grateful for his guiding torch that helps me in my desire to know Christ more fully and in this knowledge worship Him all the more. There are so many little asides and references in this book that made the book even richer to me, and I was most gratified to see the author close the text with a commentary on one of the great songs that never ceases to hit home – “Jesus I My Cross Have Taken”. Might we consider the words of that song as we continue through this life with our eyes lifted to our true hope. Someday, we shall be with Christ. Forever.

of lights we sing frantically

James HoganLeave a comment

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.