Book Bits

The Remains of the Day, by Kazuo Ishiguro I began my saga with this story by seeing the movie, the favorite of a dear friend. I had always heard that this was a story of great, if greatly hushed, despair and so would not usually have chosen it for a summer read. But when, one day last summer in Breckenridge, I realized I had not packed a book and was desperate for a novel, I hied me down to the shelves of my usual hodge-podgey bookshop, Ole Man Berkins Used Books. After an hour of browsing, this was the only thing that caught my eye, so I bought it. Read it. And think it masterful.

It's a bit of an upstairs/downstairs story set in WWII era England in the country house of an old British family. The narrator is "Stevens," the professional and deeply dignified butler of Darlington Hall. His very decided opinions and great personal passion for dignity (his own, and that of the family he serves) are the lens through which we experience the river flow of  history as it plays out amidst the ordered rooms and quiet gardens of Darlington Hall. But the memories center on a particular housekeeper, Miss Kenton, a woman of excellent management who left the staff years back in order to marry; a decision inimical to the professional servant. At the time of the book's opening, Stevens is charged by his new American master with finding a housekeeper, and this begins his journey to meet with his old friend (and perhaps something dearer) Miss Kenton. His correspondence with her, his journey to meet her after many years, and the memories that each thought of her sparks forms the frame of narration.

The chapters in this book are long, and you will find yourself wondering at times why you are investing so many reading hours in the very subjective views of a rather self-centered old man. But then will come a moment, when some event is off-handedly described by Stevens, and the grief of it is expressed in his stilted words in such a way that you want to weep. And wait until you get to the last and discover the thoughts that give this book its title. I dare you heart not to ache. In an entirely literary and good way, of course. This whole book is the story, not of a house, but of Stevens' heart and the quiet ways in which it stretched, and hoped, and broke. This is a story to deepen a reader's perception of the dramas that play out amidst the ordinary, forming us all for hope, or ultimately, grief. I loved, loved this book.

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The Evidential Power of Beauty, by Father Thomas Dubay

I can't help it; I have to tell the story of where I found a book before I can tell why I like a book. This enlightening tome, I discovered on the shelf of our hosts in Beijing. There I was, desperate for a book to help me over jetlag and the word "beauty" leapt out like lightning on a summer night. Beauty is my long study and one of the things I am always trying to do is articulate a little better why it is so vital a force in our experiencing and loving of God. This book is a hymn to the holiness of beauty. Starting with explanations of form and aesthetics, the author moves on to a chapter by chapter celebration of God's beauty as it fills our world and draws us to himself. He examines the way loveliness, grace, is woven into the fabric of our earth; in the dances of atoms, in the harmony of space and time. He looks at creation, at oceans and forests, giving us a tour of the beauty that keeps them in life. And he ends with a tribute to the most beautiful creation of God: a man or woman of heroic virtue. This was a book of great, uplifting joy to me and an affirmation of the beautiful nature of the God I love. If it seems a bit long, I encourage you to skim it. Just read the chapters that capture your eye, but enter this hymn no matter what because it will give you eyes to perceive the miraculous nature of the world in which you live.

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The Big Fisherman, by Lloyd C. Douglas

There seems to have been a window of time in the 40s and 50s that produced a spate of epic, biblical novels. Lloyd C. Douglas, the author of this book, is famous for the movie version of his novel The Robe, with Charlton Heston as star. But this is my favorite of Douglas' books; the tale of Peter, disciple of Christ, founder of the church, and fisherman follower of God. But it is so much more than that, beginning in Arabia, with the story of a high-spirited princess, moving through the Roman towns and colonies with characters from peasants to kings, and then into the Jerusalem streets of Jesus' time. This is an exotic, epic novel, colorful as a spectacular dream, adventurous as a hero tale, yet deepened by characters who each encounter Christ in a way that alters the course of their lives. If you need a good vacation book, or a fun read-aloud (my siblings and I did over half of this aloud together years ago), or just an epic story in which to lose yourself, try this.

Bookish Favorites: Spiritual Writing, Philosophy, and Essays, Part 1

Back in the autumn, before I lost my head to deadlines, I started a series of posts on my favorite books. I got as far as fiction (which is a good place to get), but never got around to the spiritual stuff, or the essay collections that have made me more opinionated than ever. And these, I simply must share. The books listed below bear the sort of writing that shapes my philosophy of life. They require a bit more of me than a novel, but they also articulate the truth of why I believe, think, and act the way I do. Some, I read in small bits, daily, as part of my devotions. Others, I devoured in a week because the pith of their message brought such a welcome revolution to my soul. Some of the writers are such intricate philosophers, I have to chew on every sentence (don't be ashamed to read Wendell Berry very slowly.) Some sweep me away. But all whisper in my brain after I've read them, stand beside me as I meet this modern problem or that moral quandary. They are guides and mentors who tromp through life alongside me and keep me straight on my path.

I will warn you, this list will be even more eclectic than my fiction list. I'm starting off with spiritual books, but will also include a good bit of philosophy, or modern essay. It will, I admit, take several posts and you'll probably want to knock me on the head for giving you such an impossibly long list of absolutely-must-read books. Oh well. I have organized this list mostly by author, since the themes of these authors are worth exploring throughout their books. Different titles bear different emphases. At the end of each post, I'll also list a few single titles I have found to be particularly enriching. So, here goes nothing, and... happy reading! (Again.)

Richard Foster I was seventeen when I discovered Foster's Streams of Living Water. There I was, restless, doubtful, questioning Christianity in general and Christians in particular, and he swept in with this history of the faith that felt like a grand tour of an ancient land. He identified the core elements of Christian belief, the ones absolutely necessary to orthodox faith, but then branched out into the different "streams," or emphases, of that faith. In reading that book, I came to see Christianity as a vivid drama of love, advancing through vastly different (and ever imperfect) people, personalities, countries, and times.

Then, I found Foster's Simplicity, and Prayer, and the habits of my devotional life were formed. Each of Foster's works on spiritual discipline and attentiveness drew me into this minute-by-minute way of experiencing, and practicing the real presence of God. Of course, now I know that Foster is one of the leading teachers of spiritual discipline in our time, a mentor to many of the most thoughtful writers and theologians alive. The grace of his work is that a seventeen-year-old girl can access his books just as readily as a Ph.D; his truth is constant, simple, and beautifully stated.

Madeleine L'Engle I have to say it; Madeleine L'Engle may have saved my faith. Tolkien too, but Madeleine especially. Right when I was most doubtful that God could love me, right when I needed proof that he was actually nice, I stumbled upon her Genesis Trilogy. Suddenly, I was awash in a world where stars spun in joy, and love lightened every atom of existence, and God's heart pulsed beauty into every corner of creation. I entered a world where music and story, art and song proclaimed a truth my heart knew and my mind was just learning to grasp.

L'Engle is an author who, above all, embraces the beautiful as a means of coming to a certain love of God. She healed the blindness I had in the way I perceived God as all about rules; she made me a witness to the wonders of the earth as powerful evidence of God's laughing, loving presence in the world. L'Engle is also the great explainer and defender, I think, of faith and art as inseparable. Her Walking on Water, is required reading for any artist. I will say in passing, that some find her spiritual ideas or views to be on the outer edges of orthodox. I would only say to read her with a heart ready to wonder, not dissect. She is a thoroughly alive sort of writer, which means she questions, posits, imagines, dares. Read her, and she'll dare you to do the same. A sampling:

"Those who believe they believe in God but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself."

"I share Einstein's affirmation that anyone who is not lost on the rapturous awe at the power and glory of the mind behind the universe "is as good as a burnt out candle."

"Infinity is present in each part. A loving smile contains all art. The motes of starlight spark and dart. A grain of sand holds power and might."

C.S. Lewis Lewis is one of those writers whose work forms the bedrock of Christian thought. He has a rare combination of killer, Oxfordian logic with the most romantic of boyish imaginations. Therefore, his writing appeals to the active mind, and the yearning heart. Of his spiritual works, or philosophy, my favorites are The Abolition of Man, and The Weight of Glory, Surprised by Joy, and The Four Loves. Abolition has to do with education and morality in modern times. Glory, actually a sermon, pictures the eternal as it invades the present and changes everything we are. Lewis' work ranges from fairy tales (The Space Trilogy), to children's literature (The Chronicles of Narnia), to allegory (Pilgrim's Regress, and The Great Divorce), to straight out philosophy (most of his essays). Read as much of him as you can and you will get an education in basic literature, history, philosophy, and faith.

The constant element in Lewis is truth stated plainly, made clear for a hungry mind. But it's truth in a tight-fisted grip on beauty. In his books the absolutely true hovers on the edge of worlds we can't yet see but always wanted to know. Lewis is like Berry in stating just why a certain worldview works or doesn't, but he's far more like Tolkien in the epic, imaginative way he does it. And he's razor sharp through it all. A former student of Lewis' at Oxford said that Lewis would rip apart an argument or thesis with such rapier wit that his poor students were left speechless. But he did it with such hearty laughter and good-humored bluster that none of them minded. His Screwtape Letters, (an imagined correspondence between a head demon and his trainee) elucidates just how subtly evil tempts us. His Surprised by Joy, (spiritual autobiography) tells the story of how he, highly educated philosopher as he was, came to love God because of the "joy" that came to him in nature, in music, and books from his boyhood. He's one of those authors that everyone should read. Period.

More major authors soon, for now, a few single book reviews to finish:

Technopoly, by Neil Postman One of the things I am always wanting is someone to help me think about cultural change. Give me a bigger view of history, help me to understand how different my life is from someone a hundred years ago, and what that means. Postman does this; he helps his reader to identify just what has been gained or lost by technology. He does the same with entertainment in his Amusing Ourselves to Death, a book on my to-be-read-as-soon-as-I-find-a-copy list.

Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell Joel (my Boston brother) and I listened to this on a three-day drive to his audition for a music school. The gist of this work is that the geniuses of the world (in sports, music, writing, etc.) are the result of particlar influences, practice, and opportunity, not chance. Think Mozart was just born writing symphonies? Go look at how much writing and playing he had done by the time he was ten, and you will wonder if maybe it was just plain old practice. Gladwell claims that it takes 10,000 hours of practice for someone to become a master, or "genius" in their chosen craft. When Joel and I got home from our trip, I think he headed straight to the piano, and I went for my journal and pen. We had work to do! I found this an empowering book because it helped me to understand that hard work truly does shape the outcome of my life and art.

Tending the Heart of Virtue: How Classic Stories Awaken a Child's Moral Imagination, by Vigen Guroian. This was such an affirming read for me. If you are interested in how stories form the soul, how deeply they can shape the heart of a child, read this book. Guroian, a professor of ethics and children's literature, writes about how the classic stories of children's literature, everything from The Velveteen Rabbit, to Grimm's fairy tales, communicate basic moral and spiritual values that will shape the adult life of the reader.

Book Review: Fiddler's Green

Some of the best books in the world are about journeys. There's Tolkien's epic, of course, with the fellowship's quest to destroy the ring, and Frodo's particular sojourn into the dark land of Mordor. There's my favorite of the Narnia chronicles, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, with a dedicated crew in search of adventure, lost lords, and Aslan's far country. There's The Odyssey, with a warrior in desperate search of home, there's David Copperfield, which has always seemed to me to be the journey of a boy’s heart, and the old medieval tales of quests for the holy grail. I think the reason that journeying is so prevalent in story is because it is a basic truth of our situation on earth. The sense of being a pilgrim comes to us at birth and shapes the desires of our hearts. However lovely this world, however rich our friendships, we have an innate sense of displacement, a bone-deep knowledge that we are not yet home. There is still beauty, still love to be sought, but also a further hope we are bound to pursue, and we are restless until we do. When a story pictures—in bright-eyed characters, in daring deeds, in the outer picture of a physical quest—the inward journey we all take, it is a treasure and relief.

That is why I am delighted to tell you about a new book that has come to join the great ranks of journeying tales. Rife with adventure, rich with characters gaudy and gallant and dear, threaded with the gold of mercy and the black of sin, this is a book to steal the hours away and take you to a world of high seas adventure. Welcome to the world of The Fiddler’s Green, a brilliant new tale by A.S. Peterson.

The heroine is Fin Button, a red-haired, fire-hearted lass who finds herself captain of a ship during the American Revolution. The story rightfully begins in the prequel to this book, The Fiddler’s Gun, when Phinea Button, orphan, tomboy, and cook’s assistant, finds herself wanted for murder. Hunted by the British redcoats just as the Revolutionary War is gathering steam, Fin must strike her own way in a dangerous world. But even as loss and sorrow batter her heart, she is cradled by the fiddle music of an old violin. She learns to sing sorrow into beauty, as Bartimaeus, the old cook at the orphanage, teaches her.

Now, in Fiddler's Green, with many battles fought, one cruel captain defeated, and the loyalty of a crew under her belt, Fin is captain of a ship. But a price remains on her head. When she is offered a full pardon in return for her rescue of a kidnapped princess, what is she to do but take the challenge? Off she sails to the Mediterranean, in search of a French girl whose betrothed has offered a grand ransom. With Fin are her trusty crew, but also a few dark souls she’s not entirely sure she can trust. Her goal is to make it home in the end, pardoned and free, but can she?

Read the book and see. If you are like me, you will lose a whole morning to the reading without a blink. The writing is vivid; the scenes of ship or sea, and of the exotic cities found, are painted in strong swathes of description. The characters are subtly drawn with habits of speech and peculiarities of person and dress that bring them to life in the imagination. But the depths of the soul peek through too. Longing and loss, doubt of self, and the yearning for some love to heal all that is broken, these dapple and deepen the hearts and happenings of this tale.

And that is the deeper reason I love this book. While the outward journey provides all the rip-roaring fun that a good reader wants, it also speaks equally of the inward journey that every human takes. We sail with Fin into dark ports where she must face her own hurt, the wrong she has wrought, and the wounds she has received. We sail into ports of doubt, where Fin wonders if she can ever get home. Yet the journey continues, and with Fin, we push on. That is the gift this tale brings; the assurance that the journey we all live can bring us home, if we, like Fin, will choose the ways of mercy, of redemption, or grace, when we come to the crossroads of our hearts. Battles must be fought, beauties will be seen, and we must walk (or sail) onward to the grace that waits at the end. Or as Peterson puts it:

"…time has a way of leading a person along a crooked path. Sometimes the path is hard to hold to and people fall off along the way. They curse the road for its steep grades and muddy ruts and settle themselves in hinterlands of thorn and sorrow, never knowing or dreaming that the road meant all along to lead them home. Some call that road a tragedy and lose themselves along it. Others, those that see it home, call it an adventure."

So, go read this book. Go buy it at The Rabbit Room. Get the prequel and treat yourself to a weekend of reading. Let Fin be your guide, and a lively one she'll be.

(Caveat: To all my dear readers, be warned, this is a book of pirates and high seas adventures. It is not, thus, a children’s book any more than The Lord of the Rings is. Battles, wounds, gun fights, and the results of the above are included in the tale.  Some passages might not be for the squeamish.)

Fiction Favorites, Part Deux

A Girl of the Limberlost, by Gene Stratton PorterThis lovely book is the second novel my mom read aloud to me. Just the two of us cuddled on the couch of an afternoon in a tiny green house in Tennessee, reading all about the lovely Elnora. Set in the haunting "Limberlost" woods and swamp, this is the story of a girl gifted with a love of nature and her father's love for music. Her mother blames her for the death of her father, so Elnora must, in large part, fend for herself as she grows older, scavenging the Limberlost for the exotic moths coveted by collectors. This book is singularly responsible for the butterfly mania I developed as a child and hold to this day. It is also an old-fashioned romantic read, full of nature and friendship and an old timey love of innocent beauty. Freckles, it's loose prequel (as in not directly written to precede Girl of the Limberlost, but set in the same place and with a recurring character) is also one of my favorite summertimeish reads.

Emily of New Moon Series by Lucy Maud Montgomery Since everyone knows about the Anne of Green Gables series by this author, I'm going to list a series she wrote that most people don't know about. I can't decide which series I like better, but since the Emily one is about a girl whose whole soul reaches to write, I might go with this one. Emily is a quiet, black-haired little girl grieving her father when she comes to live with her two maiden aunts on a rural farm in PEI. She loves the beauty of the world, is a fast friend, and a surreptitous writer as she scribbles away in the "jimmybooks" her Uncle Jimmy smuggles her despite her aunt's disapproval. The series follows Emily as she enters high school, decides which writing path she will take, and discovers what old Scottish highlanders called "the Second Sight." There is a quote I'll be posting later this week from the Emily books that always comes back to me when I think of the writer's life. Like all Montgomery novels, these are brimful with a love of nature and friendship, and a celebration of beauty.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society I read this just last weekend. The ever-lovely Annie sent it to me for my birthday. I had a restless Saturday hour and was in dire need of a soulful, but light book. I wanted color, romance, English villages, WWII, that sort of thing, and oh but I got it in this gem of a book. One of the few modern novels I've read of late and loved, it is told entirely through letters to and from a writer named Juliet Ashton. Having gained a bit of popularity with a war-time column, Juliet embarks on a harrowing tour of England. In the midst of it, she receives an unexpected letter from a man who lives in the channel islands and has just discovered a book of hers. Thus begins a correspondence that results in her discovery of a literary society formed on the isle of Guernsey during the Nazi occupation of the channel islands. This book is a celebration of friendship and the power of story to hold the heart strong even in grievous times. This is an easy find - I saw it last week at Barnes and Noble.

To Kill A Mockingbird, by Harper Lee Okay, back to a few of the heavier books. Though not a light read, this is a simple one because it is told (quite brilliantly) through the eyes of a young girl. Set in the deep south during the depression, it deals with racial prejudice and the blind hatred of which the human heart is possible. Yet it is a book of warmth and tenderness because of little Scout's relationship with her brave father Atticus who is defending a falsely accused man. An American classic, with deep insight into what is fallen, and yet what grace is possible in the human heart, this is remarkable for being the only novel Harper Lee ever wrote. A book that leaves you in a circle of quiet at its end.

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The Chosen, by Chaim Potok This book took me unawares. I can't even remember why I picked it up, but as soon as I did, I was so immersed in the life of its characters, a neighborhood of orthodox Jews in New York city around WWII, I felt as if I'd lived a week of my life in that rich, ancient culture. The story still haunts me, it is the sort you mull off and on for years - it comes back and you question it more. It opens with an unexpected friendship that grows between Reuven, the brilliant teenage son of a Hasidic (one of the strictest forms of orthodox Judaism) rabbi, and Danny, the son of a gentle Jewish scholar. Expected to fill his father's shoes as future rabbi, Reuven is torn between love of his aloof father and his own draw toward secular study. An aching tale this, a story of fathers and sons, and the tension between what is precious and ancient, and the new world in which the sacred is constantly questioned. I admit, this is probably not going to be to everyone's taste - the writing tone is quite modern and you will find yourself questioning character's decisions. But the truth about family, tradition, and loss that you know in the deep part of your heart at the end is the reason I treasure this novel.

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, by J.R.R. Tolkein Everyone should read this book. Just, everyone should. Period. I have to start this review by saying that I know everyone has seen the movies now, and many have told me they have a hard time getting past the first part of the book anyway, so why bother? Because this is one of the great modern myths of our time. It embodies eternal, ancient truths for us moderns - it is adventure and courage, friendship and beauty of the transcendent sort. This book saved my faith. It's an epic from start to finish - the tale of the little hobbit Frodo who is entrusted with the mission to destroy an evil ring. If he fails, the whole world and all that is good will be covered in darkness. Aided by friends who swear their lives to his help, protected by the wisdom and long-built beauty of the mysterious Elves, and guided by the gruff but sage Gandalf the Grey, Frodo does what all good people must - he endures, and suffers, and holds to hope in the face of evil. This is one of those stories that really is the story of the world, that is our own story writ large. I love it because it helps me to glimpse the epic nature of real life. And oh, the beauty and complexity of this imagined world. Please. I am ranting. Just read it.

A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L'Engle Madeleine L'Engle was one of those luminous souls whose words (and sheer presence on the earth) make you believe in God's reality. When she died recently, my dream of driving to NY City and showing up on her doorstep died too. Now, I'm planning on heaven. I first came to L'Engle through her essays, and have to credit them along with Lewis for helping me to believe in a God who truly was love, real Beauty incarnate, at a time when all I could see was his anger. This most famous of her novels (actually a children's book) is the story of the Murray family, especially the myopic Meg, her strange and gifted little brother Charles, and their search for their missing scientist father. Whirled through space by the fantastic trio of guardians and guides who parade as old ladies named Mrs. Who, Mrs. Whatsit, and Mrs. Which, the Murray children and their friend Calvin (accidentally swept along) must rescue their father from a distant planet where he is held captive by a strange being called It. The theme of this book is the power of love, the truth that is in affection and beauty, and its strength in the face of a faithless world.

My Antonia, by Willa Cather This book is a poem as much as a story to me. Cather's voice as a writer is sparse, wide, yet rich, just like the plains and pioneer people whose story she tells. Antonia is the eldest daughter of an immigrant family scratching out a living in pioneer Nebraska. Her life is told through the eyes of her neighbor, a young boy living with his grandparents. The calm, careful writing, the quiet observations of simple, earthy life, the wistfulness of the tale make this book and Cather in general beloved. Also by Cather: Death Comes for the Archbishop.