Lines From the Page

Lessons from Little Women by Louisa May Alcott

2011-12-26T16:00:00.000-05:00

If your memories of Little Women have been muddied by watching the movie version, I highly recommend a re-read! Far from the feminist and transcendentalist overtones of the movie, this well-loved classic by Louisa May Alcott extols the virtues of home and homemaking and a simple faith in and dependence on God that is quite refreshing. I also found several gems of wisdom for mothers both in Marmee's gentle dealings with her girls and advice to her grown daughters. While some might find the moralistic tone of this novel a bit overbearing, I, for one, don't mind a bit being reminded of the ideals and virtues of a distant generation.

After re-reading Little Women, I also read Little Men and Jo's Boys recently, both of which were new to me. I enjoyed getting an expanded knowledge of the March family, although the main characters of Little Women take a secondary role to the boys at Jo & Mr. Bhaer's school. There is more emphasis on women's rights in the younger generation, but it is well-balanced with the wisdom and training of older women in home duties, as a picture of Titus 2 in action. My only complaint is that Jo and Laurie's relationship seems a bit unusual as they get older and raise families side by side. I thought some of their interchanges a bit odd, or at least a bit too chummy for sister-in-law and brother-in-law, even if they had been the best of friends as children. Let's just say that Amy was very gracious - much more so than I could ever be in a similar situation!

Here are some of my favorite passages from Little Women:

"The patience and the humility of the face she loved so well was a better lesson to Jo than the wisest lecture, the sharpest reproof. She felt comforted at once by the sympathy and confidence given her; the knowledge that her mother had a fault like hers, and tried to mend it, made her own easier to bear and strengthened her resolution to cure it; though forty years seemed rather a long time to watch and pray, to a girl of fifteen." (83, such wisdom about confessing and battling sin, in this case anger, over a lifetime.)

"'I want my daughters to be beautiful, accomplished, and good; to be admired, loved, and respected; to have a happy youth, to be well and wisely married, and to lead useful, pleasant lives, with as little care and sorrow to try them as God sees fit to send. To be loved and chosen by a good man is the best and sweetest thing which can happen to a woman; and I sincerely hope my girls may know this beautiful experience...My dear girls, I am ambitious for you, but not to have you make a dash in the world, -- marry rich men merely because they are rich, or have splendid houses, which are not homes because love is wanting.'" (101)

"'I am quite satisfied with the experiment, and fancy that we shall not have to repeat it; only don't go to the other extreme, and delve like slaves. Have regular hours for work and play; make each day both useful and pleasant, and prove that you understand the worth of time by employing it well.'" (121)

"To outsiders, the five energetic women seemed to rule the house, and so they did in many things; but the quiet scholar, sitting among his books, was still the head of the family, the household conscience, anchor, and comforter; for to him the busy, anxious women always turned in troublous times, finding him, in the truest sense of those sacred words, husband and father." (244, nary a bit of feminism there!)

"I also doubt if any young matron ever began life with so rich a supply of dusters, holders, and piece-bags...People who hire all these things done for them never know what they lose; for the homeliest tasks get beautified if loving hands do them..." (247-248, a good reminder for one not so fond of dusting!)

"'Laurie, my lad, if you ever want to indulge in this sort of thing, get one of those little girls to help you, and I shall be perfectly satisfied,' said Mr. Laurence,settling himself in his easy chair to rest, after the excitement of [Meg's wedding in] the morning.'
'I'll do my best to gratify you, sir,' was Laurie's unusually dutiful reply, as he carefully unpinned the posy Jo had put in his button-hole." (260-261, see, it's not all moral instruction!)

"Mrs. March knew that experience was an excellent teacher, and when it was possible she left her children to learn alone the lessons which she would gladly have made easier, if they had not objected to taking advice as much as they did salts and senna." (266)

"'Never deceive him by look or word, Meg, and he will give you the confidence you deserve, the support you need. He has a temper, not like ours, -- one flash, and then all over, -- but the white, still anger, that is seldom stirred, but once kindled, is hard to quench. Be careful, very careful, not to wake this anger against yourself, for peace and happiness depend on keeping his respect. Watch yourself, be the first to ask pardon if you both err, and guard against the little piques, misunderstandings, and hasty words that often pave the way for bitter sorrow and regret.'" (287)

"'Because they are mean is no reason why I should be. I hate such things, and though I think I've a right to be hurt, I don't intend to show it. They will feel that more than angry speeches or huffy actions, won't they, Marmee?'
'That's the right spirit, my dear; a kiss for a blow is always best, though it's not very easy to give it sometimes,' said her mother, with the air of one who had learned the difference between preaching and practising (sic)." (310)

"'Ah, Jo, mothers may differ in their management, but the hope is the same in all, -- the desire to see their children happy. Meg is so, and I am content with her success. You I leave to enjoy your liberty till you tire of it; for only then will you find that there is something sweeter. Amy is my chief care now, but her good sense will help her. For Beth, I indulge no hopes except that she may be well.'" (339)

"The conversation was miles beyond Jo's comprehension, but she enjoyed it, though Kant and Hegel were unknown gods, the Subjective and Objective unintelligible terms; and the only thing 'evolved from here inner consciousness,' was a bad headache after it was all over. It dawned upon her gradually that the world was being picked to pieces, and put together on new, and, according to the talkers, on infinitely better principles than before; that religion was in a fair way to be reasoned into nothingness, and intellect was to be the only God...[Mr. Bhaer] bore it as long as he could; but wen he was appealed to for an opinion, he blazed up wit honest indignation, and defended religion with all the eloquence of truth...He had a hard fight, for the wise men argued well; but he didn't know when he was beaten, and stood to his colors like a man. Somehow, as he talked, the world got right again to Jo; the old beliefs, that had lasted so long, seemed better than the new; God was not a blind force, and immortality was not a pretty fable, but a blessed fact. She felt as if she had solid ground under her feet again..." (361-362)

"[Beth] did not rebuke Jo with saintly speeches, only loved her better for her passionate affection, and clung more closely to the dear human love, from which our Father never means us to be weaned, but through which He draws us closer to Himself. She could not say, 'I'm glad to go,' for life was very sweet to her; she could only sob out, 'I try to be willing,' while she held fast to Jo, as the first bitter wave of this great sorrow broke over them together." (382-383)

"[Meg] was nervous and worn out with watching and worry, and in that unreasonable frame of mind which the best of mothers occasionally experience when domestic cares oppress them." (398)

[Marmee's advice to Meg as a young mother] "'I nearly spoilt [Jo] by indulgence. You were poorly, and I worried about you till I fell sick myself. Then father came to the rescue, quietly managed everything, and made himself so helpful that I saw my mistake, and never have been able to get on without him since. That is the secret of our home happiness: he does not let business wean him from the little cares and duties that affect us all, and I try not to let domestic worries destroy my interest in his pursuits. We each do our part alone in many things, but at home we work together, always.'" (400-401)

"She had often said she wanted to do something splendid, no matter how hard; and now she had her wish, for what could be more beautiful than to devote her life to father and mother, trying to make home as happy to them as they had to her? And, if difficulties were necessary to increase the splendor of the effort, what could be harder for a restless, ambitious girl than to give up her own hopes, plans, and desires, and cheerfully live for others?" (445)

Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry

2011-12-26T15:00:00.000-05:00

I read Jayber Crow earlier in 2011 and recorded my favorite passages, but nothing more. So in an effort to tie up loose ends, I'll just leave it as it stands and publish it.

"Sometimes I might take off a whole day to go fishing...always taking care to get back before six-thirty. Of course, if I didn't leave until after six-thirty in the evening, I had all night to get back. And since nobody was apt to want a haircut at six-thirty in the morning, I could stay away until the next evening. My clock said I would be back at six-thirty, but it didn't say what day. And sooner or later, until the last time, I always got back." (5)

"My relation to that place, my being in it and my absences from it, is the story of my life. That story has surprised me almost every day--but now, in the year 1986, so near the end, it seems not surprising at all but only a little strange, as if it all has happened to somebody younger." (12)

"There really was nobody else to do it [adopt him after the death of his parents], but she treated me like a prize she had won...I suppose Aunt Cordie and Uncle Othy had a store of affection laid away that they now brought out and applied to me. Later I would know how blessed I had been." (15)

"Back there at the beginning, as I see now, my life was all time and almost no memory. Though I knew early of death, it still seemed to be something that happened only to other people, and I stood in an unending river of time that would go on making the same changes and the same returns forever." (24)

"I'd had the idea, once, that if I could get the chance before I died I would read all the good books there were. Now I began to see that I wasn't apt to make it. This disappointed me, for I really wanted to read them all." (47)

"In most of them I saw the old division of body and soul that I had known at The Good Shepherd [Orphanage]. The same rift ran through everything at Pigeonville College; the only difference was that I was able to see it more clearly, and to wonder at it. Everything bad was laid on the body, and everything good was credited to the soul. It scared me a little when I realized that I saw it the other way around. If the soul and body really were divided, then it seemed to me that all the worst sins--hatred and anger and self-rightousness and even greed and lust--came from the soul. But these preachers...all though that the soul could do no wrong...and yet these same people believed in the resurrection of the body." (49)

"'You have been given questions to which you cannot be given answers. You will have to live them out--perhaps a little at a time.'" (54)

"Now I have had most of the life I am going to have, and I can see what it has been. I can remember those early years when it seemed to me I was cut completely adrift, and times when, looking back at earlier time, it seemed I had been wandering in the dark woods of error. But now it looks to me as though I was following a path that was laid out for me, unbroken, and maybe even as straight as possible, from one end to the other, and I have this feeling, which never leaves me anymore, that I have been led." (66)

"The Good Shepherd and Pigeonville Collee were trying to be the world of the past. The university was trying to be the world of the future, and maybe it has had a good deal to do with the world as it has turned out to be, but this has not been as big an improvement as the university expected. The university thought of itself as a a place of freedom for thought and study and experimentation, and maybe it was, in a way. But it was an island too, a floating or a flying island. It was preparing people from the world of the past for the world of the future, and what was missing was the world of the present, where every body was living its small, short, surprising, miserable, wonderful, blessed, damaged, only life." (70-71)

"Often I have not known where I was going until I was already there...Often I have received better than I have deserved. Often my fairest hopes have rested on bad mistakes. I am an ignorant pilgrim, crossing a dark valley. And yet for a long time, looking back, I have been unable to shake off the feeling that I have been led--make of that what you will." (133)

"And so the farm came under the influence of a new pattern, and this was the pattern of a fundamental disagreement such as it had never seen before. It was a disagreement about time and money and the use of the world." (186)

"She had come into her beauty. This was not the beauty of her youth and freshness, of which she had had a plenty. The beauty that I am speaking of now was that of a woman who has come into knowledge and into strength and who, knowing her hardships, trusts her strength and goes about her work even with a kind of happiness, serene somehow, and secure." (191)

"But thinking of Mattie's marriage, I saw too how a marriage, in bringing two people into each other's presence, must include loneliness and error. I imagined a moment when the husband and wife realize that their marriage includes their faults, that they do not perfect each other, and that in making their marriage they also fail it and must carry to the grave things they cannot give away." (194)

"But she loved him, however at odds with him she may have been, for however long. She remembered and kept treasured up her old feeling for him. She treasured up the knowledge that, though she was not happy, happiness existed. And so as Troy's character wore lower and more awry, her own grew straighter and brighter." (342)

Books Read in 2011

2011-12-10T23:32:00.000-05:00

Edited 12/10/11 ~ Since life takes precedence over blogging, I've moved this list of my year to date reading to the top of the page. Maybe sometime I'll get back to recording my favorite quotations, but for now this is it.

This is my master list of books read in 2011. It will include not only those books that I read myself, but also the chapter books that I read aloud to my kids. If I tried to include all the picture books we read the list would be much too long, but I figure that children's chapter books, especially the classics that I like to read, can count for my reading list as well. Links will be to my reviews when applicable, though I've become quite the negligent book blogger of late.

Les Miserables by Victor Hugo (1463 pages)
Emily of New Moon by L. M. Montgomery (339 pages)
Emily Climbs by L. M. Montgomery (325 pages)
Emily's Quest by L. M. Montgomery (228 pages)
Inkheart by Cornelia Funke (534 pages)
The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins (494 pages)
A Red Herring Without Mustard by Alan Bradley (391 pages)
The Railway Children by Edith Nesbit (188 pages)
The Reluctant Dragon by Kenneth Grahame
My Life in France by Julia Child with Alex Prud'Homme (304 pages)
The Scent of Water by Elizabeth Goudge (349 pages)
The Monuments Men:Allied Heroes, Nazi Thieves, and the Greatest Treasure Hunt in History by Robert M. Edsel with Bret Witter (450 pages)
Black Narcissus by Rumer Godden
Puck of Pook's Hill by Rudyard Kipling
Clouds of Witness by Dorothy Sayers
Peter Pan and Wendy by J. M. Barrie
Unbroken by Laura Hillenbrand
Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry
Dreams of Joy by Lisa See
That Hideous Strength by C. S. Lewis
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas
Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets by J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban by J. K. Rowling
Looking for God in Harry Potter by John Granger
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire by J. K. Rowling
Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J. K. Rowling
To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee
St. Peter's Fair by Ellis Peters
The Mystery of the Sea by Bram Stoker
84, Charing Cross Rd by Helene Hanff
The Leper of Saint Giles by Ellis Peters
Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Little Men by Louisa May Alcott
Jo's Boys by Louisa May Alcott

The Reluctant Dragon by Kenneth Grahame

2011-03-10T09:58:00.014-05:00

Well, if it took us more than two months to finish The Railway Children, which was time well-spent, we breezed through The Reluctant Dragon in a matter of days. My kids were engaged enough in the story to comment on how it differed from the old Disney animated version, to study the pencil-sketch illustrations intently, and to request it every night until we were through. Actually, I think my children will sit and listen to just about anything - at least they've never asked to quit reading a book and move on to another one, so that's probably no indication of a book's quality.

This is a short little book without chapters, but a little too long to finish in one sitting. I had to find some logical breaks to keep bedtime at a reasonable hour, much to the dismay of my daughter who asked, "Do we have to end with 'Goodnight' again?" There is a simple cast of characters: the dragon, an unnamed Boy, and St. George take center-stage, with a sheperd and his wife (the Boy's parents) in supporting roles and a host of villagers as extras. The sonnet-spouting dragon is clearly no threat to society, but the villagers have convinced themselves that he is a terrible menace and scourge upon their fair land. Meanwhile, the boy has befriended the dragon and feels that he must intervene when Saint George appears to fight the deadly beast. After explaining the dragon's true retiring nature and the exaggerations of the villagers, the boy introduces the knight to the dragon and helps them arrange things in an altogether satisfactory manner.

There's some subtle humor in this tale, as it obviously plays upon the classic formula of knights conquering dragons and rescuing fair maidens. A Princess is sadly missing, however, since the Boy couldn't arrange everything as the dragon and Saint George expected him to, especially when his mother was waiting up for him. It's all right as dragon stories go, though not nearly so adventurous as My Father's Dragon, nor so witty and charming as Grahame's classic The Wind in the Willows (linked to my reviews).

Amy and her girls read The Reluctant Dragon earlier this year, and you can check out her Read Aloud Thursday review here. I'd like to see the illustrations in the volume that they read, and maybe we'll check it out again when we study Medieval history next year.

The Railway Children by Edith Nesbit

2011-03-10T08:51:00.013-05:00

We were introduced to The Railway Children through our first grade writing curriculum in January, but a series of illnesses made it difficult for me to read aloud for several weeks and we've only just finished it now in early March. To be quite honest, it was probably a bit advanced for my children, ages 7 and almost 4, but even if they didn't understand some of the quaint vocabulary and customs of English country life at the turn of the 20th century, they followed the action pretty well and at least grasped the main storyline.

I myself was rather indifferent about the story at first - it was charming in an old-fashioned sort of way and the children were realistically portrayed, not too perfect as to be unbelievable, but not so naughty as to be bad examples - until I reached the last two chapters. There I found two passages that were so full of truth, and so foreign to most everything you will find in modern children's literature, that I can and will wholeheartedly recommend this novel to every family concerned to instill biblical values in their children. Let me show you why.

After Peter had been tormenting his sisters with talk of blood and bones, making them queasy while their new friend was having his broken leg set, the Doctor had a little talk with him:

"'You'll excuse my shoving my oar in, won't you? But I should like to say something to you.'

'Now for a rowing,' thought Peter, who had been wondering how it was that he had escaped one.

'Something scientific,' added the Doctor. . .

'Well,' said the Doctor, 'you know men have to do the work of the world and not be afraid of anything - so they have to be hardy and brave. But women have to take care of their babies and cuddle them and nurse them and be very patient and gentle.'

'Yes,' said Peter, wondering what was coming next.

'Well, then, you see. Boys and girls are only little men and women. And we are much harder and hardier than they are' - (Peter liked the 'we'. Perhaps the Doctor had known he would.) - 'and much stronger, and things that hurt them don't hurt us. You know you mustn't hit a girl -'

'I should think not, indeed,' muttered Peter, indignantly.

'Not even if she's your own sister. That's because girls are so much softer and weaker than we are; they have to be, you know,' he added, 'because if they weren't, it wouldn't be nice for the babies. And that's why all the animals are so good to the mother animals. They never fight them, you know.'

'I know,' said Peter, interested; 'two buck rabbits will fight all day if you let them, but they won't hurt a doe.'

'No; and quite wild beasts - lions and elephants - they're immensely gentle with the female beasts. And we've got to be, too.'

'I see,' said Peter.

'And their hearts are soft, too,' the Doctor went on, 'and things that we shouldn't think anything of hurt them dreadfully. So that a man has to be very careful, not only of his fists, but of his words. They're awfully brave, you know,' he went on. 'Think of Bobbie waiting alone in the tunnel with that poor chap. It's an odd thing - the softer and more easily hurt a woman is the better she can screw herself up to do what has to be done. I've seen some brave women - your mother's one,' he ended abruptly.

'Yes,' said Peter.

'Well, that's all; excuse my mentioning it. But nobody knows everything without being told. And you see what I mean, don't you?'

'Yes,' said Peter. 'I'm sorry. There!'"

I don't think I've ever heard true chivalry and femininity expressed so well for a child's understanding, encouraging boys to be gentlemen and elevating a girl's softness and weakness not as disadvantages, but as being the best for the babies, just as God intended! These values have been all but lost in the cultural wars of feminism, so it is refreshing to find them stated so clearly and beautifully.

The other passage that I love so well expresses God's providence in an equally beautiful way, and again in language that makes it easy for a child to understand.

"'I say,' said Peter, musingly, 'wouldn't it be jolly if we all were in a book and you were writing it? Then you could make all sorts of jolly things happen, and make Jim's leg get well at once and be all right tomorrow, and Father come home soon and -'

'Do you miss your father very much?' Mother asked, rather coldly, Peter thought.

'Awfully,' said Peter, briefly. . .'You see,' Peter went on slowly, 'you see, it's not only him being Father, but now he's away there's no other man in the house but me - that's why I want Jim to stay so frightfully much. Wouldn't you like to be writing that book with us all in it, Mother, and make Daddy come home soon?'

Peter's mother put her arm round him suddenly, and hugged him in silence for a minute. Then she said:

'Don't you think it's rather nice to think that we're in a book that God's writing? If I were writing a book, I might make mistakes. But God knows how to make the story end just right - in the way that's best for us.'"

Yes, I'm glad God is writing the book of our lives, and it is wonderful to find a story that communicates that truth and that will appeal to both boys and girls. We will be adding this to our own library soon, and I hope that both my daughter and son will pick it up to read on their own in a few more years.

Be sure to check out other Read Aloud Thursday posts at Hope is the Word.

Emily Climbs by L. M. Montgomery

2011-02-11T22:28:00.005-05:00

I probably would have called this book "Emily's School Days" if I had written it, but that just shows my lack of imagination, which of course precludes that I could even begin to write like L. M. Montgomery. Well, anyway. . . most of this books deals with Emily's three years of high school in the nearby town of Shrewsbury, three years in which she matures both as a young woman and a writer.

Emily is thrilled when Aunt Elizabeth finally concedes to let her continue her education, even if it does come with the stipulation that she not write any stories, but only what is true. If restraining her imagination, or at least the recording of her imaginative stories, seems difficult, it is only the beginning of the trials that await Emily. Instead of boarding with her friend Ilse, Emily must stay with Aunt Ruth, a straight-laced widow who is even more suspicious and aloof than Aunt Elizabeth had been. She repeatedly accuses Emily of being sly and deep and misunderstands even the most innocent of motives and mishaps. It is an unsympathetic environment, to say the least. Emily's friendship with Ilse encounters some bumps as she deals with the petty jealousies and mean tricks of other students. The "Murray pride" proves to be both a blessing and a curse, on the one hand helping her to rise above schoolgirl pranks, but on the other prolonging misunderstandings and giving Emily a sense of isolation.

Montgomery switches back and forth between a third-person narrative and first person accounts from Emily's journal, which gives the story a predominantly one-sided perspective. However, I wasn't annoyed by a first-person narrative as is so often the case, because Emily (or Montgomery, really) is such a storyteller that even her personal recollections do not descend into self-absorption. The only drawback that I noticed is that some characters were left largely undeveloped. Though Teddy was such an important part of her childhood, there is really only one scene were he figures prominently, very prominently, in this volume, and then he simply seems to fade into the background of Emily's scholastic and literary pursuits and a larger social scene. In keeping with the title, the prominent theme is that Emily Climbs the ladder of success as her passion for writing becomes recognized by others - first her teachers, then the community, and finally by editors and publishers.

As in Emily of New Moon (though I didn't mention these elements in my review) Montgomery gives us a mixed bag of faith, religion, and spirituality. Emily's delight in nature, which hints at a wonder in the world God created, is contrasted with the rigid piety of her relatives, which only results in severity in their own lives and for those with whom they interact. At thirteen, Emily explains these differences with the idea that people each have their own "Gods" as they see fit. "Everybody has a different God, I think. Aunt Ruth's, for instance, is one that punishes her enemies—sends 'judgments' on them. That seems to me to be about all the use He really is to her. Jim Cosgrain uses his to swear by. But Aunt Janey Milburn walks in the light of her God's countenance, every day, and shines with it" (13). Emily's God is one of the dew-laden sunrise as well as the violent storms, and her infectious delight in nature seem to indicate that Montgomery must have favored this view over stuffy high-church ideals, though she was a minister's wife herself. Going even one step further from orthodoxy, there is an element of mystery, bordering on spiritism, in each of the Emily books when Emily has an inexplicable vision that brings unknown things to light. Spiritism was nothing new in the early 20th century, so perhaps Montgomery included it just for the element of local color. At any rate, she doesn't dwell on it or belabor the point, and even Emily herself is uncomfortable with her "second-sight."

I have enjoyed all the Emily books, but I think this is my least favorite one, simply because teenage woes are often over-dramatized, and I'm, shall we say, over that at this stage of life. I really enjoyed Emily's thoughts on writing, however, and how her perspective is broadened by curbing her imagination and writing "just the facts, ma'am." Emily certainly does mature and learn much about herself in the three years of this story, but she also seems to come into her own in the inheritance of Murray traditions, some of which are quaint and resourceful and others - like the Murray pride - that are not always such admirable qualities. She makes a wise choice at the end, but she is still posed on the precipice of what she will become. So stay tuned for my thoughts on Emily's Quest in a few days.

Emily of New Moon by L. M. Montgomery

2011-01-27T23:53:00.003-05:00

I have thoroughly enjoyed getting to know another of L. M. Montgomery's delightful young heroines, Emily of New Moon. In fact, I only reluctantly put down Emily Climbs in order to write this review before the end of Carrie's L. M. Montgomery Challenge. Though I didn't get the whole series read during this challenge, I plan to finish the next two books soon and review them here, challenge or no.

There will certainly be more L. M. Montgomery novels to choose from next year.

Of course, it is inevitable that one would compare Anne of Green Gables with Emily Byrd Starr, but I'm not ready to make a final decision on which is my favorite. I cannot read Anne without hearing the soundtrack and picturing the movie and the scenery of Prince Edward Island, all of which make me sigh and long to transplant myself there 100 years ago. It doesn't seem like there is quite the allure of the land in the Emily books, but maybe that is because Emily does not invent quite so many fanciful names for her surroundings. Emily is certainly creative, but her imagination is poured into the written word at a much earlier age than Anne. She clearly loves New Moon and the Blair Water and nature in general, but even her early attempts at poetry have a certain refinement that is quite different from Anne's romantic enthusiasm.

There are many similarities between characters and plot, of course. As Amy noted in her review of Magic for Marigold, many Montgomery novels could be summarized as an orphan with an (over)active imagination who overcomes obstacles of misunderstanding and various mishaps to find friendship, recognition, success, and eventually love. But even with these common features, Emily did not seem to me to be simply another version of Anne. Her personality is distinct; her passion is writing, not just imaginative names and enchanting phrases, and somehow this makes her a little less dramatic, I think. (I know Anne is a writer also, but it seems like this comes out later in the books, whereas Emily is almost inseparable from her blank books from the first.) She has a more reflective, less impulsive nature and is very astute in her first impressions and judgments of others. After being ill-used by one friend, she is a bit more reserved in her friendships, though that does not prevent her from forging strong bonds with a few chums: Ilse, a hot-tempered, but fiercely loyal girl of her age; Teddy, a gifted artist with an obsessively jealous mother; and Perry, the hired boy with aspirations of political grandeur.

I think the part that I like best, and which also sets this novel completely apart from Anne, is that her kindred spirit is an adult, and a man at that, but in Dean Priest, a schoolmate of her deceased father, Emily finds someone who understands her way of thinking and can further her imagination and education with stories of distant lands and myths of long ago. "In Dean Priest Emily found, for the first time since her father had died, a companion who could fully sympathize. She was always at her best with him, with a delightful feeling of being understood. To love is easy and therefore common - but to understand - how rare it is!" (272). In a modern novel such a friendship between a twelve-year-old girl and a thirty-six-year-old man would be suspect at best, and predatory at worst. But Montgomery pulls it off with innocence and propriety, and the subtle hints that Dean drops indicating his complete enchantment with Emily and hopes for when she is grown only make me want to keep reading to see how several overlapping love triangles will play out as Emily and her friends grow older.

And with that, I must get back to Emily Climbs!

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo

2011-01-21T22:23:00.011-05:00

I count it no small accomplishment to have read Les Misérables in 28 days - yes, all 1463 pages in just 4 weeks! Now, I must admit that I skimmed some of the more lengthy historical parts, but I did slough my way through 60+ pages on 19th century Parisian sewers. That's got to make up for skimming the parts I read ten years ago during my first attempt when I only made it about two-thirds of the way through the book.

There is so much that could be said about this novel, and I immensely enjoyed our book club discussion which delved into many and varied topics. Julia's insights into the lack of father figures was particularly insightful!

As for me, the characters are what make a great book, and Les Misérables has an amazing cast of characters that evoke a whole spectrum of emotions. The bishop, Monseigneur Bienvenu, is inspiring and endearing. Jean Valjean is marvelous, complex, troubled, and above all good after the act of forgiveness and generosity that transformed him. Thenardier, well, he simply makes me shudder, and his wife is just as dreadful. Cosette and Eponine...I could go on and on...

But the main topic that I have debated myself is the idea of redemption in this novel. I think my expectations must have been too high to start with because I had been told that Les Misérables is the greatest story of redemption ever written, apart from the Bible, and I read it with that in view. I think I was looking for a more obvious correlation to the gospel, an actual spiritual redemption, not simply a moral one. But I suppose that was too much to expect from a story set in Roman Catholic Paris and from an author who rejected his Roman Catholic upbringing and called himself a freethinker.

Redemption is certainly a theme, but I must question if it is truly a Christian view of redemption since Christ is noticeably absent. Though the bishop's words certainly convey the idea "You were bought with a price..." (I Corinthians 6:20; 7:23), that price was paid by the bishop himself, and it is to him that Jean Valjean's thoughts always turn when he wrestles with difficult decisions about the right path to follow. This charge: "Do not forget, ever, that you have promised me to use this silver to become an honest man...Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good. It is your soul I am buying from you. I withdraw it from dark thoughts and from the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God" (106) becomes the guiding force of Jean Valjean's life, but in the absence of the gospel - of a clear declaration that Christ died for you, now you must live for Him - Jean Valjean's goodness is only a compilation of merits accumulated to assuage his conscience and overcome the social stigma of a convict. Now it must be granted that such a view is in keeping with the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church where redemption would be the process of a lifetime, a conjoining of the work of Christ with the works of man. This is understandable in the historical context of 19th century France, but while a works-based idea of redemption may be true to the historical context and setting of the novel, it simply is not the penultimate illustration of redemption since true redemption cannot be separated from the true and complete gospel.

Thus, my Protestant and Reformed sensibilities have a hard time applying the term "redemption" to the whole story. It could be construed as a story of sanctification, though there are theological difficulties with that, as well, given the Roman Catholic context of the novel (see above). But if we shift the focus from man to God, it becomes quite obvious (to me, at least) that Les Misérables is a story of providence. Maybe this was even Victor Hugo's intention. He writes, "This book is a drama whose first character is the Infinite. Man is the second" (509). At the very least a testimony to providence is the result he could not hide in spite of his vague deist ideas of God, for he crafts a story in which it is only too obvious that something, someONE is superintending all events, bringing the exact people and circumstances together at the right times to preserve life, to give second chances, and yes, to further moral redemption, even if not salvific.

Now I'd like to hear your thoughts on this. Have you always considered Les Misérables a story of redemption? Can you see how it is a story of providence from first to last? Whatever your opinion, I'm sure we can agree that Les Misérables remains one of the greatest novels of all time, unsurpassed in its depiction of the depths and the heights of human character. Even though its length is daunting, it was well-worth the time (which really didn't seem that long), and I hope to read it at least once per decade.

On a side note, aren't these original (1862) illustrations of Cosette and Gavroche by Emile Bayard amazing? I would love to see an edition that included all the original illustrations.

L. M. Montgomery Challenge 2011

2011-01-16T23:40:00.001-05:00

I'm a little late to the party on this one because I was determined to finish Les Misérables before starting the L. M. Montgomery Challenge, hosted by Carrie at Reading to Know. While I am still processing my thoughts on Les Mis, I am prepared with the three Emily books already checked out from the library, overcoming at least one obstacle that stymied me last year. I would like to read all three - Emily of New Moon, Emily Climbs, and Emily's Quest - in the next 2 weeks, but we'll see how that goes. I'm looking forward to comparing Emily with Anne and getting to know another Montgomery character, as well as returning to the picturesque villages of Prince Edward Island. Maybe I'll check out the movies, as well, although I usually prefer to read than to watch.

Thank you, Carrie, for hosting this challenge again. Your enthusiasm is infectious, and if you ever plan a reader's tour of Prince Edward Island, I will be one of the first to sign up!

In brief...

2010-12-28T22:33:00.005-05:00

Seldom have I been brief on this blog. My posts are either long or non-existent, it seems, and the past two months have fallen in the latter category. But I'd like to make a few comments on what I've read before the year is through, so I'm limiting myself to two or three sentences per book (compound sentences and semi-colons are permitted). We'll see how this goes.

Undaunted Courage : Meriwether Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, and the Opening of the American West by Stephen Ambrose. (Title and author will not count as a sentence!) This probably wouldn't have made my TBR list if it hadn't been a bookclub selection, but I'm glad I read it as it was very interesting and informative. Though it documents Meriweather Lewis' life from birth to death, the bulk of this biography focuses on his role in the Lewis & Clark expedition, recounting fascinating details about the preparations involved and the truly historic journey, including their encounters with various Indian tribes and the amazing landscapes and wildlife that they encountered.

Sarah's Key by Tatiana De Rosnay. I don't completely understand my interest in WWII stories, particularly ones involving the atrocities committed against the Jewish people, but perhaps it is the aspect of hope and survival in the midst of such evil. This novel is gripping in it's telling of two women of two different generations in Paris: a young Jewish girl who was captured and escaped, only to live the rest of her life in the shadow of an unintentional tragedy, and a modern American expatriate who unravels the threads of that war story only to find it inextricably woven with her own.

The Yellow House by Patricia Falvey. I read this for the Irish Reading Challenge, and it is one of the best, recently published historical fiction that I have read. It gave a vivid portrait of the working class in Northern Ireland during the religious and political conflicts of the early 20th century, and I was sorry to leave the characters and the country when it came to an end.

An Irish Country Village by Patrick Taylor. This is the second "Irish Country" book (in the series and that I have read), and it is just as delightful as the first, with a unique blend of Irish humor, interesting medical cases, eccentric characters, and a little romance for good measure. This was also for the Irish Reading Challenge, which I did finish before November 30th, though I didn't post reviews or qualify for the final give-away.

Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope. This second novel (of six) in the Barsetshire novels continues the story of Mr. Harding, his daughter Eleanor, and son-in-law the Archbishop to whom we were introduced in The Warden, and introduces a number of new characters who thicken the plot of ecclesiastical dominance and intrigue. The characters are delightful in all their quirks and idiosyncrasies; the conflicts are engaging, but not serious or life-threatening. Of all the Victorian authors I've read this year, I would rank Trollope second, closely behind Wilkie Collins who gains precedent because of my penchant for mysteries, and followed by Thomas Hardy, Elizabeth Gaskell, and finally Dickens.

An Irish Country Christmas by Patrick Taylor. Since it was December, it seemed fitting to continue the Irish Country series with the third installment, but perhaps because I read them so close together it seemed as if this was merely rehashing the same themes: a potential problem in the medical practice, a personal issue in the community, and unfulfilled wishes in matters of love - and Dr. Laverty worrying excessively about them all. Maybe I simply found the young doctor's angst a bit extreme and immature this time, but it also seemed as if the story needed a bit more editing; maybe it was rushed to the publishers to get it out before the Christmas season in 2008. With that said, however, I still enjoyed it, mostly, well, except for the phone conversations that repeated the same issues ad nauseum... at any rate, I still like this series and would recommend it for light reading.

Fannie's Last Supper: Re-creating One Amazing Meal from Fannie Farmer's 1896 Cookbook by Christopher Kimball. This was a fascinating book, combining social history, food lore, and cooking journal as the author and a team of chefs researched and cooked a twelve-course Victorian dinner, cooking it on an authentic wood cookstove in the basement of the author's restored Victorian home in Boston. I'm sure I would not want to make gelatin from calf's hooves, but it certainly gives one an appreciation for Jell-o when you understand what a remarkable innovation and improvement it was for Victorian cooks, for whom gelatin molds were an elegant feature of an elaborate dinner! My only complaint was that this book could have used better editing, as well, since the repetition of some facts between chapters made it seem as if it had been written as separate articles instead of a cohesive account.

Now I am reading Les Misérables and will most certainly be occupied with its almost 1500 pages well into January. I read two-thirds of it ten years ago, and I think reading it once a decade might be a worthy goal.

Two Novels about Vermeer: the Artist's Inspiration and the Art's Influence

2010-10-19T22:01:00.031-04:00

When my book club selected Girl with a Pearl Earring for our October meeting, I mistakenly thought it was another book about Vermeer that I had read about at Small World Reads Blog called Girl in Hyacinth Blue. If I had gone back and read her review, I would have seen that she recommended reading Girl with a Pearl Earring first, but I found the premise of Girl in Hyacinth Blue more appealing and read it first. I'm actually glad I did, because I liked Susan Vreeland's vignettes that traced a painting's history from the present to the time it was created much more than the emotionally charged, teen infatuation that drives the story of Girl with a Pearl Earring.

Let me first say that I think that many of Vermeer's paintings are extraordinary, and it is fascinating to speculate about the circumstances that inspired the artist, particularly when the "Girl with a Pearl Earring" is so strikingly different than his other works. However, I don't appreciate the trend that I have observed in several recent historical fiction works that make sexuality the framework through which we approach historical subjects. The historical subject matter is intriguing enough, and I would have preferred that poetic license be taken in a different manner.

So, for a brief synopsis, Girl with a Pearl Earring imagines that the subject of the painting by the same name was a young maid in Vermeer's household. Griet, the daughter of a Delft tile painter, has an artistic bent herself, or at least an eye for color and form. When Vermeer notices her arranging of vegetables by color, Griet quickly assumes that an intellectual or artistic meeting of minds must indicate a romantic attachment. Henceforth, all her thoughts about and interactions with Vermeer, as she has the privileged position of cleaning his studio and mixing his paints, are seen through the eyes of her young infatuation. And while she imagines that Vermeer hides a mutual attraction, Griet finds that her beauty attracts the attention of a butcher's son as well as Vermeer's patron, the rich and demanding van Ruijven, who wants to "own" her and is only appeased by Vermeer's agreeing to paint her.

To her credit, Chevalier seems to have thoroughly researched 17th century Dutch life and offers vivid descriptions of the various levels of society and their interactions and expectations of one another. I found this aspect of the novel fascinating as we follow Griet from her humble home and struggling parents to Vermeer's busy home with many children, a contentious wife, and domineering mother-in-law, to the aisles of the markets and the ordinary lives of laborers and merchants. It may be that a simple change in perspective or narrator would have made all the difference for me, for just a little bit of distance from Griet's own thoughts and self-awareness of her allure might have given the perspective necessary to raise it from teen angst to great historical fiction. I'm sorry if my review seems uncharitable, but there was just so much that was gratuitous, even by implication, in the telling of this story - a story which had remarkable potential, in my opinion - that I was very disappointed.

Girl in Hyacinth Blue is not without it's own gratuitous scenes, but the underlying tone in which they are presented at least seems consistent with the cultural expectations of the historical time period - those who disregard marriage vows, either before or after marriage, face consequences of one sort or another. Unlike Girl with a Pearl Earring, which focuses on a few characters, this story revolves around an imagined lost work of Vermeer's, one without signature or papers but which bears the artist's characteristics so strikingly that it must be a Vermeer. The painting's most recent journey brought it to America via the looting of Jewish homes in the Netherlands during World War II, and from that infamous beginning Susan Vreeland gives a collection of short stories that trace the painting's history over 300 years through the hands of Jews, Dutch merchants, French diplomats, common farmers, slave traders, and bakers to Vermeer himself.

The art itself is both the protagonist and antagonist of these tales, for the painting has its own significance and meaning for each owner and observer; it is the main "character" of the book, but also the catalyst that works upon the characters in each of the stories. The fictional accounts of Vermeer and his family, which finally reveal the authenticity of the painting, seem much more in keeping with what little is known of his personal life, for he is presented as a preoccupied artist who loves his wife and children and struggles to provide for their physical needs while furthering his artistic vision. In short, Girl in Hyacinth Blue depicts the enduring influence of fine art, a far more satisfying message than one girl's sensual influence on the men around her.

The Warden by Anthony Trollope

2010-10-08T21:40:00.028-04:00

I'm sorry to say that I only made it through one-third of David Copperfield last month before I gave up and moved on to greener pastures. But in defense of my good intentions to read classics (in spite of failing with David Copperfield this time around), my next book was The Warden, the first in the six Barsetshire Novels by Anthony Trollope, a contemporary of Dickens. The book club in Michigan where we used to live had chosen Barchester Towers for their October selection, and I just couldn't bear to start in the middle of the series.

I enjoyed The Warden much more than David Copperfield, not only because it was shorter, but because the characters were quite clearly defined, a moral and relational problem was quickly stated and developed, and I felt like the story was actually going somewhere. (I'm sorry to say that David Copperfield's lack of ambition left me feeling rather apathetic about his prospects and problems, such as they were.) Like Dickens often did, Trollope deals with a contemporary issue - that of the abuse of clergy who were handsomely rewarded for administrating works of charity while the recipients of that charity were pitifully cared for. Mr. Harding, or the Warden of Barchester, had rather innocently been given such a position with a long-fixed and adequate income when his daughter married the bishop's son, the archdeacon, and he had since taken care of the elderly men at Hiram's Hospital (a retirement home of sorts) with kindness and generosity. No one who knew Mr. Harding would have suggested that he abused his position, for he freely gave the twelve men in his charge extra funds from his own resources and kept them company with his musical talents, caring for their souls as well as their bodies. Nevertheless, as a matter of principle, a young doctor believed that the system was unjust and began a lawsuit against the Warden, in spite of his own friendship with Mr. Harding. To complicate matters further, this zealous doctor was in love with Mr. Harding's younger daughter Eleanor, though their love was not yet proclaimed by an engagement.

Although the church's abuse of its resources was one of national concern, Trollope deals with it on a very personal level, contrasting Mr. Harding's desire to be just and right in spite of personal loss with the more obstinate position of the archdeacon, his son-in-law, who insisted that the church was always right in its appropriation and use of funds and easily dismissed all criticism to the contrary while relying on his well-paid lawyers to settle the matter in his favor. I immediately felt sympathy for Mr. Harding, who had lived his life with the purest of motives, only to find those motives questioned and his character maligned not only in his own village and by the very men he served but throughout the nation by means of the press. The character of the young doctor, John Bold, is likewise admirable in his quest for justice, even if he does seem somewhat calloused and unfeeling at times.

Mr. Harding's concern for the honor of his name, of maintaining a good character in the eyes of the world, eventually leads him to resign his place as warden and return to a much lower position of service in the church. His integrity, however, does not make all things right with the world. If Mr. Harding is himself content to be poor, his resignation results in less care and support for the twelve poor men of the Hospital. This could also be construed as the fault of the church, but Trollope seems more concerned for the effects on the individuals involved rather than the overarching principles involved. I appreciate the honesty with which he presents the complex issues of determining what is right for an individual, a family, a community. Clearly, Mr. Harding acted rightly according to his own conscience, but it could also be argued that he was too much influenced by public opinion of himself to act justly for the good of those who were under his care. Similarly, Eleanor and John Bold eventually act upon their emotions to the neglect of the principles to which they thought they were so committed. Trollope leads us to believe that these actions were inevitable for these characters, and for good or ill, life goes on for the inhabitants of Barsetshire, rich and poor alike.

I look forward to continuing the story of these earnest lives in the second installment Barchester Towers.

Great Irish Short Stories, edited by Evan Bates

2010-09-03T23:53:00.000-04:00

I purchased Great Irish Short Stories last year because the topic interested me and it was cheap, and when the Irish Reading Challenge came up at CarrieK's Books and Movies blog, it seemed like a perfect fit. I think I expected that these would be stories about Ireland, it's history, people and lore, but the settings are not always on the Emerald Isle, and the characters are not always distinctly Irish. It seems that the purpose of the book was to provide a collection of Irish authors, not necessarily Irish history or folklore, though at least two stories do fit that category. Many of the stories reminded me of other stories or authors, which is perhaps testimony to the fact that there is nothing new under the sun or perhaps evidence of the persistent Irish influence on literature and culture. (For more on that fascinating subject read How the Irish Saved Civilization, which I reviewed here.)

"The Limerick Gloves" by Maria Edgeworth is set in England and deals with prejudice against an Irishman. The small town gossip in this story reminded me of Elizabeth Gaskell's Cranford.

"Green Tea" by J. Sheridan Le Fanu seemed a bit like a Sherlock Holmes story with an uncommon tale being related by a secretary. It has a medical bent to it, though the adverse effects of green tea have surely been proved otherwise since it was written in 1872. "The Tables of the Law" by W. B. Yeats is also an uncommon tale with a supernatural edge to it rather than a mystery.

"The Death of Fergus" by Standish H. O'Grady seems akin to something of more epic proportions like Tolkien's Silmarillian. It lists a great number of names and relations and is somewhat cumbersome in it's telling, but is the first tale of Irish folklore in the collection dealing with "Lepracanes" and their relations with Fergus the King of Ulidia.

"Lisheen Races, Second-Hand" by E. C. Somerville and Martin Ross is a hilarious vignette of Irish country life, much like the stories found in An Irish Country Doctor by Patrick Taylor. "The Weaver's Grave" by Seumas O'Kelly is told in a similar vein although it is not so humorous, and "The Ploughing of Leaca-na-Naomh" by Daniel Corkery is tragic, but likewise paints a portrait of Irish life.

"Home Sickness" by George Moore relates a somewhat depressing tale of an Irish-American immigrant who returns to the Irish village of his youth to regain his health and finds the poverty and subsistence living to be a harder life than the slums of New York. The abject poverty of this story reminded me of Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes: A Memoir.

The collection is rounded out with another bit of historic folklore in "The Only Son of Aoife" by Isabella Augusta, Lady Gregory, while "The Blind Man" by James Stephens and "The Dead" by James Joyce have more subtle inferences and messages about broader issues of life, particularly marriage.

I don't always enjoy short stories, but these were varied enough and interesting enough to keep my attention. It might not have been what I originally expected, but it is a nice collection of stories spanning nearly two centuries (from 1804 - 1976). If you're looking for an introduction to Irish authors, I would certainly recommend it.

I read this book as part of the 2010 Ireland Reading Challenge.

A Morbid Taste for Bones: The First Chronicle of Brother Cadfael by Ellis Peters

2010-08-31T22:08:00.001-04:00

Where has the summer gone? Even though the temperatures are still in the 90's, we are jumping right into fall activities, and I should probably blog about the books I read in July before August escapes me. So while I was entertained, but not particularly impressed with Percy Jackson, I absolutely loved the other series that I started, thanks to the recommendation of Caniad at Dwell in Possibility.

As I've said before, mysteries are my preferred genre, and I think they are perfect for summer reading - engaging enough to keep my brain active, but not so heavy (literally or figuratively) that I can't breeze through one (or two) during a weekend vacation or finish one between picking and canning tomatoes! The Brother Cadfael series by Ellis Peters is near perfection, in my opinion, combining medieval history, a fairly complex mystery, theology, and even a little romance!

Since Caniad has already provided a great introduction to the author and the series, as well as a succinct summary of the plot in her post on A Morbid Taste for Bones, I'll simply give you my favorite passages and call it good. How's that for catching up?

"When you have done everything else, perfecting a conventual herb-garden is a fine and satisfying thing to do. He could not conceive of coming to this stasis having done nothing else whatever." (3)

"'Did you see?' said Brother John in Cadfael's ear, pacing beside the sumpter mule. 'Did you see how the beasts laboured towards that fellow not to escape the goad, only to go where he willed, only to please him? And such labour! That I should like to learn!'" (24)

"'In my church,' said Huw humbly, 'I have never heard that the saints desired honour for themselves, but rather to honour God rightly.'" (28)

"Well, thought Cadfael, letting them go without him, and turning to meet Sioned's steady gaze, God sort all! As doubtless he is doing, now as ever!" (85)

"'Speak out,' said the prior, not unkindly. 'You have never sought to make light of your failings, I do not think you need fear our too harsh condemnation. You have been commonly your own stearnest judge.' So he had, but that, well handled, can be one way of evading and forestalling the judgements of others." (95)

". . .great violence had been done to what he knew to be right, and great requital was due from the sinner, and great compassion due to him." (142)

"'. . .and if God aids me with some new thought - for never forget God is far more deeply offended even than you or I by this great wrong! - I'll come to you there.'" (147)

"'And leave agonising too much over your sins, black as they are, there isn't a confessor in the land who hasn't heard worse and never turned a hair. It's a kind of arrogance to be so certain you're past redemption.'" (151)

Almost all of these demonstrate what I love best about the Brother Cadfael mysteries: there is wisdom in these pages, not just a good story, and the two combined make them a joy to read!

Bloggy Friends, Birthday Fun

2010-08-31T21:03:00.001-04:00

If it's not already obvious, my blogging has been put on the back burner the past couple of months. That doesn't mean I haven't been reading, but other things - vacation, homeschooling, gardening, canning, and cooking, to name a few - have taken priority over recording my thoughts. I'll try to remedy that soon, as we are settling into a homeschooling routine which ~~might~~ ~~potentially could~~ probably won't help me find the time to write. Well, anyway...

Whether I'm writing or not, I'm still reading my favorite blogs, and one of the best from the list on the sidebar is Reading to Know. Carrie is a thoughtful, insightful, and fun reader and writer, and I've enjoyed getting to know her through her blog and winning a few of her give-aways over the past year or so. In celebration of her birthday (and the announcement that Bookworm3 is on the way!), she's hosting a plethora of give-aways this week! So head on over to Reading to Know to wish Carrie a happy birthday and enter some great give-aways!

That's my girl!

2010-08-12T22:33:00.024-04:00

It seems fitting to interrupt the intermittent book reviews to share some momentous news... I think my daughter has finally caught the reading bug and is excitedly reading chapter books! Hooray!

After two years of phonics/reading instruction and her reluctantly (but capably) reading I Can Read books and Easy Readers, she's hooked on The Boxcar Children Books and finally got tired of waiting for me to read another chapter. Tonight I told her she could read in her bed, and since staying up late to read is such a grown-up thing to do (that's what Mommy does, after all), she was thrilled. I was surprised that it didn't really take her too long to read another chapter, and she came out to announce, "You don't have to read The Boxcar Children anymore, Mom. I'll read it every night! And when I'm done with this one, I'll read the first one again, and then you'll have to get more different ones from the library!" Then she told me about the chapter, as I reflected on how easy narration is when she's excited about something. Now I'll just have to figure out how to transfer this enthusiasm to our homeschooling subjects!

I'm still smiling! (And also inwardly rubbing my hands with glee that my subtle plotting and planning payed off. If I can't put down a good mystery, I figured that eventually she wouldn't be able to either. So I planted the seeds with audio books and reading aloud, and then she finally had to find out what happens next and read it herself!)

She's currently reading The Woodshed Mystery (The Boxcar Children Mysteries #7), after we have listened to the audio version or read aloud books 1-6. The Boxcar Children books are not great literature - they're not even great mysteries, though they do promote good values, work ethic, and respect for adults - but if they can make a six year old excited about reading then I'll be glad to stock our shelves with them!

And since this post marks a transition from read-aloud (which obviously won't stop) to read-to-oneself, I'm linking it to Read Aloud Thursday at Hope is the Word.

Percy Jackson & the Olympians: Books 1-5 by Rick Riordan

2010-08-11T23:35:00.004-04:00

The premise of these books is intriguing: the ancient Greek gods are still alive and well and still up to their usual philanderings, begetting a number of "half-blood" children with mortals. These children usually have trouble in school, have ADHD or other learning difficulties (because their brains are hard-wired for ancient Greek), and often have monsters chasing them by their early teens. Percy Jackson learns that he is a half-blood when he is twelve and is attacked by his math teacher (a monster in disguise) on a school field trip, effectively turning his life upside down as he escapes to Camp Half-Blood and takes on a dangerous quest to save the world. Each book follows the same pattern of a threat to the gods or Camp Half-Blood, with Percy and his friends encountering many fantastic dangers and tense moments as they search for the elusive unriddling of the Oracle's prophecies and save the world.

Now I understand a 30-something mother of two is not the intended audience for this series, so you'll have to bear with me when I take what The New York Times Book Review meant as a positive for a negative, describing The Lightening Thief as "perfectly paced, with electrifying moments chasing each other like heartbeats." Don't get me wrong, that's a perfect description of each book in the series, but I, for one, found it a little wearying. I'm sure that non-stop action and adventure are the perfect pacing for a pre-teen or teen boy reader, but when each book is yet another quest to save the world and almost every chapter raises and resolves yet another crises, it left me thinking the characters were more automatons than "real" people. I think a large part of this stems from the first person narration - we only get Percy's point of view, which is understandably a little scattered due to his ADHD - and I must say the author seemed to capture the thoughts and perspective of a teen boy pretty well, including a little bit of attitude. But if you contrast this writing style with the semi-omniscient narrator of the Harry Potter series, it's clear that the latter lends itself much better to character development, which is an essential quality of a great book, as far as I'm concerned.

In the final assessment, I enjoyed them as quick reads with creative, if somewhat repetitive plots. For adult readers, I would recommend not reading them in quick succession, since I think both the unrelenting action and redundancy would not be so obvious or annoying with some time between each reading.

They were a fun way to reacquaint myself with Greek mythology, which I'm hoping to delve into on an introductory level with my daughter as we study ancient history using The Story of the World: History for the Classical Child (Vol. 1) in our homeschooling plan for first grade this year. But I won't be adding the Percy Jackson series to our read-aloud list.

I will be interested to see how Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Lightning Thief was adapted to the screen, but as with the books, I doubt that I'll be sharing it with my three-year-old and six-year-old, There are just too many potentially frightening scenes since Percy and his friends are constantly battling monsters, and the Underworld just isn't a pleasant place, after all. I'll be sure they are ready to handle fictional accounts of false gods and many tense battle scenes before recommending the books, although I can see how these would be very engrossing for reluctant young male readers.

Narnia Reading Challenge Summary

2010-08-05T23:58:00.001-04:00

Over the past year or more, my children and I have listened to the unabridged audio versions of the Chronicles of Narnia, with frequent repeats of their favorites: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, The Magician's Nephew, and The Horse and His Boy. I had hoped to listen to them all again in chronological order this month for Carrie's Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge, but unfortunately we didn't quite get that much done. We revisited parts of our favorites while traveling, and I listened to The Voyage of the Dawn Treader while canning tomatoes, and I must say that audio books are a great way to keep one's mind engaged while one's hands are busy!

After hearing the story again, I am even more excited about The Voyage of the Dawn Treader movie coming out in December because I think this book and The Horse and His Boy have the best storylines of all the books, at least as far as the flow, characters, and creativity are concerned, although The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe certainly ranks up there too. I am cautiously hopeful that the movie will follow the book fairly closely in plot, but I will be surprised if it retains all the profound spiritual lessons that are so beautifully illustrated in the story. Oh well, that just makes reading (or listening to) the book all the more important!

Additionally, I also scoured our library for Narnia themed picture books and found Lucy Steps Through the Wardrobe and Edmund and the White Witch, which both my three-year-old and six-year-old enjoyed.

We also own a couple of "I Can Read" Narnia books, and I am overjoyed to hear my daughter reading Welcome to Narnia and Tea with Mr. Tumnus! Narnia is not just for summer reading challenges at our house, though, and we will be returning by whatever means we can find throughout the year!

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

2010-07-02T23:11:00.031-04:00

I think I have come to the conclusion that mystery novels are my genre of choice, but I do prefer a full-length novel to short stories. That's not to say that I didn't enjoy the twelve stories in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, but 20 pages on average just isn't enough to develop a good mystery. Any tension or suspense is resolved relatively quickly, and I found myself reaching the end of many of the stories thinking, "Is that all?" I will have to read some of the longer Sherlock Holmes novels to see if I find that format to be more satisfying. Regardless, I think I will always be partial to Lord Peter Wimsey, in short or long story form. Dorothy Sayers' amateur British detective marked my return to mystery reading as an adult, and he just can't be topped when it comes to intelligence, wit, and charm, not to mention that Bunter, the epitome of an English butler, completely eclipses Watson as the sleuth's sidekick.

But I digress - this post was supposed to be about Sherlock Holmes, not Lord Peter. Sherlock Holmes' deductive skills are certainly amazing, if at times a bit far-fetched in that it's certainly not the only conclusion that could be drawn from the evidence -he just happens to land upon the right conclusion every time. How convenient! Nevertheless, I enjoy observing his reasoning skills and attempting to figure out the puzzle, although in most cases it seemed as if the reader is merely intended to be awed by Sherlock Holmes' outstanding powers of observation and reasoning instead of solving the crime along with him. In fact, many of these stories are mysteries only in the sense of unusual events or family problems or injustices, not actual crimes. In some cases I found the plots a little redundant, but that is a minor complaint.

At any rate, I plan to read more of Sherlock Holmes (in chronological order of publication if possible), although Lord Peter will always have first place on my bookshelf!

How about you - who is your favorite detective or mystery series? My 6-year-old is enamored with The Boxcar Children, which I am hard-pressed to even classify as mysteries. But it's a good place to start, as Nancy Drew certainly fueled my love for reading!

Edited to add that I'm linking this to the Classics Bookclub at 5 Minutes for Books.

Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw

2010-06-23T22:54:00.001-04:00

Until a few days ago, it had been years since I watched My Fair Lady, but some of the songs from that musical are so memorable that they still popped in my head every so often. So I thought it would be interesting to read Pygmalion, the play upon which the musical is based, before watching the movie, and I'm so glad I did.

The play is slightly different than the musical/movie. For one, Eliza's tutoring is covered in just a page or two and there is no mention of "the rain in Spain" or "hurricanes hardly ever happen." There is no day at the races - Henry Higgins simply takes Eliza to his mother's house for tea. The ending is quite different, too: a bit more realistic and less romantic, but I won't give it away. Of course, the musical has it's own charm, and it is certainly easier to hear the Cockney accent than to read its transliteration.

I think the play conveys the social criticism that Shaw intended better than the musical, but perhaps that is simply because it is so easy to be carried away with the music and the romance of My Fair Lady instead of analyzing the message it's presenting. In an introduction, Richard H. Goldstone comments that "Shaw observes in Pygmalion that the right accent (together with the right clothes) could carry the day. His position in relation to class was not that society should eliminate the concept of ladies and gentlemen but that the status of lady or gentleman might be attained by anyone with intelligence and character who aspired to the part" (ix). Eliza Doolittle echoes these sentiments when she asks Colonel Pickering, "But do you know what began my real education?...Your calling me Miss Doolittle that day when I first came to Wimple Street. That was the beginning of self-respect for me. (She resumes her stitching.) And there were a hundred little things you never noticed, because they came naturally to you. Things about standing up and taking off your hat and opening doors...You see, really and truly, apart from the things anyone can pick up (the dressing and the proper way of speaking, and so on), the difference between a lady and a flower girl is not how she behaves, but how she's treated. I shall always be a flower girl to Professor Higgins, because he always treats me as a flower girl, and always will; but I know I can be a lady to you, because you always treat me as a lady, and always will" (93-94).

Now that it has been nearly one hundred years since Shaw published in 1913, these ideas can be applied in a different, though no less necessary context. We need to regain the concept of ladies and gentlemen, in the truest since of the words - men should not disdain chivalry and good manners or be afraid to offer it, and women should stop trying to prove our equality and graciously accept being cared for. I know it is hard to wait for someone to open a door, but that's what ladies should do, and gentlemen should be glad for the opportunity! I'm sure it would do much for improving our attitudes toward biblical manhood and womanhood if these simple actions were more a part of our daily routines.

Laddie: A True Blue Story by Gene Stratton-Porter

2010-06-22T22:40:00.000-04:00

I finished this well over a month ago, but finally decided to play catch up on blogging instead of giving up just yet... It seems like this might be the year of Gene Stratton-Porter for me, since this is the third novel by her that I have read in 2010. While her works might not be as well-known or as memorable as L. M. Montgomery (there will never be another Anne!), I find them very refreshing, for they take me to a simpler time and place, a time when many of the foundational beliefs and values I hold dear were understood and simply assumed by the general population. It reminds me that it is not so much that I am out of touch with reality, as that the reality of life in the twenty-first century has lost sight of what is of true value. And I need that reminder, since it is all to easy to be caught up in all the stuff - from billboards to google ads to simply walking through the abundance of a grocery store - that we are bombarded with every day. So while some might find Laddie: A True Blue Story overly idealistic, I would maintain that it is an ideal worth imitating or at least moving closer to.

Laddie is considered the most autobiographical of Gene Stratton-Porter's novels, though she is certainly reflected as the "Bird Woman" in Freckles and A Girl of the Limberlost. She was the youngest of twelve children, just like Little Sister, who here narrates her own story and that of her family, especially her older brother Laddie. Faith and family values are at the heart of this story, and I love the fact that it is not particularly a "Christian" book, but biblical truths are woven all through it.

“All these outward things are not essential; they are pleasing, I grant, but they have nothing to do with the one big, elemental fact that a Godless life is not even half a life...I know God is big enough and merciful enough to accept even death-bed repentance, but what is that to compare with laying out your course and running it a lifetime without swerving?” (115)

“I knew it was a good time, and I could ask anything I chose, so I sat on his knee and said: 'Father, when you pray for anything that it's all perfectly right for you to have, does God come down from heaven and do it Himself, or does He send a man like Laddie to do it for him?'
Father hugged me tight, smiling the happiest.
'Why, you have the whole thing right there in a nutshell, Little Sister,' he said. 'You see it's like this: the Book tells us most distinctly that “God is love.” Now it was love that sent Laddie to bind himself for a long, tedious job, to give Leon his horse, wasn't it?'
'Of course! I said. 'He wouldn't have been likely to do it if he hated him. It was love, of course!'
'Then it was God,' said father, 'because “God is love.” They are one and the same thing.'” (345-346)

“I guess the biggest thing the matter with Pryors was that they didn't know how to go about loving each other right; maybe it was because they didn't love God, so they couldn't know exactly what proper love was; because God is love, like father said.” (394)

Little Sister is a part of a close-knit family even though many of her siblings are already grown and married. I especially appreciated the value of motherhood that was clearly presented in passages such as these:

“'Yet they tell me that you are the mother of twelve children,' he said, as if he marvelled at something.
'Yes!' cried mother, and the word broke right through a bubbling laugh. 'Am I not fortunate above most women? We had the grief to lose two little daughters at the ages of eight and nine, all the others I have, and I rejoice in them.'” (282)

“'Had I life to live over, I see now where I could do more; but neighbor, believe me, my highest aspiration is to be a clean, thrifty housekeeper, a bountiful cook, a faithful wife, a sympathetic mother. That is life work for any woman, and to be a good woman is the greatest thing on earth.'” (289)

The author's love of nature is evident the Limberlost books, but the roots of it are especially clear in passages such as these:

“It would take a whole book to describe the butterflies[Gene Stratton-Porter did write a book on moths: Moths of the Limberlost]; once in a while you scared up a big, wonderful moth, large as a sparrow; and the orchard was alive with doves, thrushes, catbirds, bluebirds, vireos, and orioles. When you climbed the fence, or a tree, and kept quiet, and heard the music and studied the pictures, it made you feel as if you had to put it into words.” (61)

“I was just wishing it was summer so I could steal out to the cemetery, and have a good visit with the butterflies and always swarmed around Georgiana Jane Witcomb's grave at the corner of the church. I never knew Georgiana Jane, but her people must have been very fond of her, for her grave was scarlet with geraniums, and pink with roses from earliest spring until frost, and the bright colours attracted swarms of butterflies. I had learned that if I stuck a few blossoms in my hair, rubbed some sweet smelling ones over my hands, and knelt and kept so quiet that I fitted into the landscape, the butterflies would think me a flower too, and alight on my hair, dress, and my hands, even. God never made anything more beautiful than those butterflies, with their wings of brightly painted velvet down, their bright eyes, their curious antennae, and their queer tickly feet.” (229)

This love of nature contributes to her reluctance to go to school, so the young philosopher offers some suggestions for improvement:
“Schoolhouses are made wrong. If they must be, they should be built in a woods pasture beside a stream, where you could wade, swim, and be comfortable in summer, and slide and skate in winter. The windows should be cut to the floor, and stand wide open, so the birds and butterflies could pass through. You ought to learn your geography by climbing a hill, walking through a valley, wading creeks, making islands in them, and promontories, capes, and peninsulas along the bank. You should do your arithmetic sitting under trees adding hickorynuts, subtracting walnuts, multiplying butternuts, and dividing hazelnuts. You could use apples for fractions, and tin cups for liquid measure. You could spell everything in sight and this would teach you the words that are really used in the world.” (267)

I see shades of Charlotte Mason in that last quotation, though I don't know if Gene Stratton-Porter ever read Charlotte Mason. This is one ideal that I'm afraid I can't fully embrace - between allergies, bugs (ticks, ewww!), and heat our outdoor educational experiences are somewhat stifled. But I do hope to do a few more outside activities and take advantage of the trails at some of the great nature preserves in our area.

Idealism aside, however, Laddie is simply a great example of historical fiction from the early 20th century! It has mystery, romance, wisdom, engaging characters, and even a few bad guys. I heartily recommend it for your next historical fiction selection.

The Old Man and the Sea by Earnest Hemingway

2010-06-10T22:29:00.003-04:00

Short and (bitter)sweet - that was one impression that The Old Man And The Sea left with me. It was a simple and poignant story of an old Cuban fisherman's determination to outsmart a massive marlin after eighty-four days with no catch. As he rows far out to sea and waits for something to take his line, waits for the great fish to tire and come to the surface, makes the kill and heads for home only to have his catch eaten by sharks, the reader realizes that the life and thoughts of the old fisherman are as profound as they are simple.

I do not remember reading Hemingway before, although I'm sure I must have read excerpts in literature courses. Some have said that his stories are rather dark, but this one wasn't, really. From one perspective it could be viewed as a hopeless, fatalistic tale - an old man almost kills himself to catch a fish that he never brings to shore - but on the other hand, it is a story of perseverance, of doing one's work well in spite of the difficulties and impossibilities of the task. It is also a story of loyalty, for the young boy who used to work with the old man loves and cares for him still. So while the circumstances are sad, they are not hopeless, as you can read in the excerpts below:

"'Thank you,' the old man said. He was too simple to wonder when he had attained humility. But he knew he had attained it and he knew it was not disgraceful and it carried no loss of true pride." (13-14)

"He always thought of the sea as la mar which is what people call her in Spanish when they love her. Sometimes those who love her say bad things of her but they are always said as though she were a woman. Some of the younger fishermen, those who used buoys as floats for their lines and had motorboats, bought when the shark livers had brought much money, spoke of her as el mar which is masculine. The spoke of her as a contestant or a place or even an enemy. But the old man always thought of her as feminine and as something that gave or withheld great favours, and if she did wild or wicked things it was because she could not help them. The moon affects her as it does a woman, he thought." (29-30)

"He had no mysticism about turtles although he had gone in turtle boats for many years. He was sorry for them all, even the great trunk backs that were as long as the skiff and weighed a ton. Most people are heartless about turtles because a turtle's heart will beat for hours after he has been cut up and butchered. But the old man thought, I have such a heart too and my feat and hands are like theirs." (37)

"When once, through my treachery, it had been necessary to [the marlin] to make a choice, the old man thought. His choice had been to stay in the deep dark water far out beyond all snares and traps and treacheries. My choice was to go there to find him beyond all people. Beyond all people in the world. Now we are joined together and have been since noon. And no one to help either one of us." (50)

"...he thought much and he kept on thinking about sin. You did not kill the fish only to keep alive and to sell for food, he thought. You killed him for pride and because you are a fisherman. You loved him when he was alive and you loved him after. If you love hi, it is not a sin to kill him. Or is it more?
'You think too much, old man,' he said aloud.
But you enjoyed killing the dentuso [a shark who had attacked the dead marlin strapped to the boat], he thought. He lives on the live fish as you do. He is not a scavenger nor just a moving appetite as some sharks are. He is beautiful and noble and knows no fear of anything.
'I killed him in self-defense,' the old man said aloud. 'And I killed him well.'
Besides, he thought, everything kills everything else in some way. Fishing kills me exactly as it keeps me alive. The boy keeps me alive, he thought. I must not deceive myself too much." (105-106)

Read Aloud Thursday: A Nest for Celeste by Henry Cole

2010-06-03T09:15:00.003-04:00

Occasionally, Amazon makes an interesting "you might also like" suggestion and I find a good book that I might have otherwise overlooked. Such is the case with A Nest for Celeste: A Story About Art, Inspiration, and the Meaning of Home, a recently published children's book that is richly illustrated and a good choice for a read-aloud with a creative twist on history.

Let me elaborate on the richly illustrated part... The illustrations are all black and white pencil drawings, but there is hardly a page without a picture, and there are many full, two-page illustrations without text, too. This obviously helps to keep the little ones engaged and interested in the story, and it also makes the chapters read quickly, too. The illustrations are lifelike, but just whimsical enough for a talking animal story. Here are a couple of examples:

We thought he story itself to be a little slow-moving to begin with - my children did not start begging me to read just one more chapter until we were about halfway through. But once the characters and the plot are established it moves along well. Celeste is a field mouse who has taken up residence under the floorboards of a Southern plantation. She has the unusual skill of weaving baskets from dried grasses, and she uses her baskets to gather crumbs and other tidbits from the dining room. After a dangerous encounter with the cat, Celeste clambers upstairs and takes refuge in a boot. That boot belongs to Joseph, a boy who is assisting John James Audubon in painting the birds of Louisiana during the summer and fall of 1821. A frightened Celeste is eventually won over by Joseph's kindness (and peanuts) and becomes his little friend. She in turn befriends several birds who are captured as specimens for Audubon's drawings. Celeste learns that friendship has its risks - both in acts of kindness and in saying goodbye - but its value is priceless.

An epilogue explains the historical events and persons who form the framework for the story, and I was pleased with the historical accuracy of the people and places. Of course, history from a mouse's perspective always has a bit of poetic license, but if mice and birds could communicate with each other and deliberately plan their lives, this is likely how it could have happened.

Some of the descriptions of hunting and Audubon's typical practice of killing, posing, and mounting the birds that he paints (a fate from which Celeste saves her bird friends) could be a little traumatic for young children, so parents might want to read ahead to see if some sections should be paraphrased for sensitive ears. I was also a little disappointed that there wasn't more interplay between Celeste's basket weaving and the artistic endeavors of Audubon and Joseph, but the author seems to have chosen a more realistic portrayal of the human interactions with animals, while only the animals do unusual things like talking to one another and reasoning. Overall, however, it was a creative story with a little bit of history and adventure and a satisfying, if slightly bittersweet ending. At any rate, it earned the approval of my daughter, age 6, who saw the image as I was writing this post and exclaimed, "Can we order it again? I love it!"

Middlemarch by George Eliot

2010-05-14T21:04:00.067-04:00

I try to blog immediately after I read a book, but sometimes I'd just rather move on to the next book in the pile. Such has been the case lately, and I'm already starting a third book with two to blog about. Alas! So this will be short on comments (maybe!) and long on quotations.

I have heard that some consider Middlemarch to be the prime example of the modern/Victorian novel, and if you can make it through the 800+ pages, most readers would probably agree. I found it humorous to find the following notes in the margins of my library copy: "stopped at pg. 86 - will pick it up again when more in the mood" (facing the title page) and on page 86, "This book is a struggle to read!" To be honest, there were parts that I found a little tedious (mainly political discussions for which I had little understanding or background information), but the characters were diverse and true (as in, authentic) enough to keep me reading to the end. Though I am far from a literary critic, George Eliot's (Mary Ann Evans) characters and her many insights into human character are what make this novel great. In fact, I almost ran out of post-it tags in marking memorable passages.

If I were to describe it in one sentence, I would say that Middlemarch is one of the most honest and insightful portrayals of the ideals, delusions, deceptions, and disappointments of male/female relationships, particularly the before and after of courtship and marriage, that I have ever read. Human character has not changed much in 100+ years, and I identified with and found reflections of myself, for good and ill, in several of the characters. I might even venture to say that Middlemarch could be an ideal read-aloud (or listen to an audio version together) for engaged or married couples as it would provide so much material for discussions about one's expectations and misconceptions of marriage, hopefully with the outcome of capitalizing on the (few) successes and avoiding the pitfalls of these characters.

A few quotations of some of the gems I found therein:

"The fact is unalterable, that a fellow mortal with whose nature you are acquainted solely through the brief entrances and exits of a few imaginative weeks called courtship, may, when seen in the continuity of married companionship, be disclosed as something better or worse than what you have preconceived, but will certainly not appear altogether the same." (186)

"'It spoils my enjoyment of anything when I am made to think that most people are shut out from it' [Dorothea said] 'I call that the fanaticism of sympathy,' said Will, impetuously...'If you carried it out you ought to be miserable in your own goodness, and turn evil that you might have no advantage over others. The best piety is to enjoy - when you can. You are doing the most then to save the earth's character as an agreeable planet. And enjoyment radiates. It is of no use to try and take care of all the world; that is being taken care of when you feel delight - in art of in anything else. Would you turn all the youth of the world into a tragic chorus, wailing and moralising over misery? I suspect you have some false belief in the virtues of misery, and want to make your life a martyrdom.'" (209)

"[Mrs. Garth] had sometimes taken pupils in a peripatetic fashion, making them follow her about in the kitchen with their book or slate. She thought it good for them to see that she could make an excellent lather while she corrected their blunders 'without looking,' - that a woman with her sleeves tucked up above her elbows might know all about the Subjunctive Mood or the Torrid Zone - that, in short, she might possess 'education' and other good things ending in 'tion,' and worthy to be pronounced emphatically, without being a useless doll." (230)

"Rosamond's discontent in her marriage was due to the conditions of marriage itself, to its demand for self-suppression and tolerance, and not to the nature of her husband..." (717)

"'Marriage is so unlike everything else. There is something even awful in the nearness it brings. Even if we loved some one else better than - than those we were married to, it would be no use' - poor Dorothea, in her palpitating anxiety, could only seize her language brokenly - 'I mean, marriage drinks up all our power of giving or getting any blessedness in that sort of love. I know it may be very dear - but it murders our marriage - and then the marriage stays with us like a murder - and everything else is gone.'" (759)

And my favorite - a tribute to all wives and mothers:
"Many who knew her, thought it a pity that so substantive and rare a creature should have been absorbed into the life of another, and be only known in a certain circle as a wife and mother. But no one stated exactly what else that was in her power she ought rather to have done..." (797)

Isn't it interesting that being "only" a wife and mother was criticized in the 1800's, when we tend to think that similar attitudes are unique to the past 50 years or so. The motives behind the criticism may have changed from that of social class structures to feminist ideas of equality and empowerment, but the denigration of the roles is nothing new.

It was fun to discuss this with my book club, since everyone had a favorite character and some different opinions about the storyline. I'm interested to know, if you have read Middlemarch, would you have played matchmaker differently if you had the same cast of characters to work with? Would things have been better (they certainly would have been different) if Dorothea had married __________(fill in the blank), or if Mary had taken the rector instead of Fred? How would you have arranged the marriages of Middlemarch if you had the sovereignty to do so?

Stepping Heavenward by Elizabeth Prentiss

2010-05-02T23:00:00.000-04:00

I read Stepping Heavenward almost twenty years ago when it was first reprinted by Calvary Press and highly recommended by Elisabeth Elliot. Although I'm sure I reread it at least once in my late teens, I deeply regret that I didn't return to it more often in the ensuing years. That was partly due to the fact that I always seemed to give away any copies I had on hand, but I'm sure I could have used its wisdom as much or more than those I shared it with. Needless to say, when our church's women's Bible Study decided to read and discuss this book this spring (using Stepping Heavenward: A Bible Study Guide as a starting point for discussions), I was very excited to revisit an old friend.

Elizabeth Prentiss writes with incredible insight into a woman's character and shows how an impetuous, selfish girl is transformed into the image of Christ by growing in grace and sanctification through years of inward and outward struggles. Stepping Heavenward is written as a diary that the protagonist, Katy, begins on her 16th birthday and continues into her early forties. Although it is set in the mid-1800's, it is truly remarkable to see how little human nature has changed in almost 200 years. This novel seems to capture that so remarkably (as opposed to other classics from this time period) because there is comparatively little description of time or place, and the most striking cultural differences seem to be in the susceptibility to illness and the general frailty of life that we forget in the 21st century. Instead, the setting is primarily Katy's heart and inward life, though of course she describes how her own actions and interactions with others, as well as other trials and circumstances, refine her spirit until she eventually exclaims, "Yes, I love everybody! That crowning joy has come to me at last. Christ is in my soul; He is mine; I am as conscious of it as that my husband and children are mine; and His Spirit flows forth from mine in the calm peace of a river whose banks are green with grass and glad with flowers" (339).

Here are some more of my favorite quotations, several of them pertaining to motherhood, since it seems I need those reminders most at this stage of my life, but many of them pertaining to the "journey to godliness" which is not bound by life's stages or circumstances.

"I wonder if, after all, mothers are not the best friends there are!" (51). I know this is true for me - my Mom has been my best friend for years and years!

"'Go home and say over and over to yourself, "I am a wayward, foolish child. But He loves me! I have disobeyed and grieved Him ten thousand times. But He loves me! I have lost faith in some of my dearest friends and am very desolate. But He loves me! I do not love Him; I am even angry with Him! But He loves me!"'" (59)

"'I hope [my heart] is renewed,' I replied. 'But I know there is a great work still to be done in it. And the more effectually it is done, the more loving I shall grow. Don't you see, Father? Don't you see that the more Christ-like I become, the more I shall be filled with love for every living thing?" (175)

"God never gives us hindrances. On the contrary, He means, in making us wives and mothers, to put us into the very conditions of holy living. But if we abuse His gifts by letting them take His place in our hearts, it is an act of love on His part to take them away or to destroy our pleasure in them. It is delightful...to know that there are some generous souls on earth who love their dear ones with all their hearts yet give those hearts unreservedly to Christ" (212)

"Here is a sweet, fragrant mouth to kiss; here are two more feet to make music with their pattering about my nursery. Here is a soul to train for God; and the body in which it dwells is worthy all it will cost, since it is the abode of a kingly tenant. I may see less of friends, but I have gained one dearer than them all, to whom, while I minister in Christ's name, I make a willing sacrifice of what little leisure for my own recreation my other darlings had left me. Yes, my precious baby, you are welcome to your mother's heart, welcome to her time, her strength, her health, her tenderest cares, to her lifelong prayers! Oh, how rich I am, how truly, how wondrously blest!" (228-229)

"What I am, that I must be, except as God changes me into His own image. And everything brings me back to that, as my supreme desire. I see more and more that I must be myself what I want my children to be and that I cannot make myself over even for their sakes. This must be His work, and I wonder that it goes on so slowly; that all the disappointments, sorrows, sicknesses I have passed through have left me still selfish, still full of imperfections!" (287)

"But I see now that the simple act of cheerful acceptance of the duty imposed and the solace and support withdrawn would have united me more fully to Christ than the highest enjoyment of His presence in prayer could. Yes, every act of obedience is an act of worship..." (311)

There are few books that I would consider reading on a yearly basis, but Stepping Heavenward is one that I think I need to read annually. I urge every woman to read it, too, and give it away liberally if at all possible. Whatever stage of life you might be at, you will find encouragement and above all truth!

While you can find Stepping Heavenward on Amazon (if you purchase through the links in this post I'll get a teeny, tiny percentage to support my book fund), this and several other of Elizabeth Prentiss's books are also available through Grace & Truth Books, and many facsimiles of old editions are entirely online. I am particularly interested to read The Home at Greylock, which is described as "A masterpiece which explains the task of Christian parenting in story form."

The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag by Alan Bradley

2010-04-19T22:35:00.144-04:00

After reading The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie a few months ago, I was looking forward to the second installment in the Flavia de Luce mysteries by Alan Bradley. In The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag eleven-year-old Flavia puts her chemistry knowledge, curiousity, and intuitive reasoning skills to work to solve an unexpected murder that happens under the noses of practically the whole town of Bishop's Lacey - during a performance of "Jack and the Beanstalk" by a famous puppeteer. As Flavia pieces the evidence together, it becomes apparent that the murder of a 5-year-old boy some years before has a strange connection with the current events.

Flavia de Luce is an interesting character: sweet (only when necessary), smart, and (slightly) sinister at the same time. I certainly wouldn't want to be her mother or sister or neighbor - but she is unique among detective protagonists that I have read. Her relatively young age allows her to investigate things with supposed innocence, while at the same time she has the knowledge and wherewithal to effectively poison any one she might choose. That lends a rather unsettled feeling to her exploits since it seems like she's searching for truth, but one's never quite sure of her motives, except in the case of her sisters where her motives are quite clearly vengeful.

But if Flavia is young and precocious and her sisters self-centered and snobbish, some of the other characters have more depth, most often the result of grief or suffering, which is slowly revealed a little more in this sequel. One feels sorry for Flavia's father whose distance is explained as a result of the death of his wife ten years before: "Father paid us no attention. He had already retreated into his own world: a world of colored inks and perforations-per-inch; a world of albums and gum arabic; a world where our Gracious Majesty, King George the Sixth, was firmly ensconced on both the throne and the postage stamps of Great Britain; a world in which sadness - and reality - had no place" (161).

And then there is Dogger, the jack-of-all-trades (from butler to gardener) who suffers from post-war trauma and is fiercely loyal to the de Luce family, especially to Flavia and her father. I think I have a soft spot for English butlers in detective novels, but Dogger is Flavia's friend and sounding board - they understand one another and appreciate one another's eccentricities. I hope we learn more of his story and that he figures more prominently in future novels (Bradley is said to be working on another already).

As for the mystery, Bradley offers just enough clues to keep the reader guessing, and each hint seems to point to a different suspect. I found this novel to have a more surprising resolution than the first, although it was still a bit over-dramatic. I think the life or death endings might seem a little formulaic if the author continues that trend, though I will probably continue to read the series just to see what Flavia does next. As I said before, she doesn't have the charm of Lord Peter, but it's a fun read just the same.

An Irish Country Doctor by Patrick Taylor

2010-04-08T23:13:00.002-04:00

An Irish Country Doctor by Patrick Taylor is a delightful introduction to the village of Ballybucklebo and it's two physicians. Although it is fiction, it is based on the author's journals when he was himself an Irish country doctor fresh out of medical school. There is the obligatory disclaimer - "All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously" - and the author plainly denies any direct association between himself and Barry Laverty, the young doctor and protagonist of the tale. Nevertheless, it's easy to imagine the plausibility of most, if not quite all, of the characters and incidents, although I doubt all the tales could have been wrapped up so neatly in real life.

We are introduced to Barry Laverty, a recent graduate of medical school, as he is on his way to an interview as an assistant to an established general practitioner in a small village in Northern Ireland. It's the mid-1960's, and his main objective is merely to make the payments on his Volkswagen Beetle. However, he quickly realizes that Dr. Fingal Flahertie O'Reilly will give him an education in patient care that he never learned from his textbooks or residency. "...stick with me, son." O'Reilly says. "You'll learn a thing or two the books don't teach you" (51).

Dr. O'Reilly's unorthodox methods are well matched with his patients' eccentricities, which makes for very entertaining reading. As a retired naval surgeon, his language is a bit course at times, but his concern for his patients' lives, their heartaches and financial woes, as well as their aches and pains is certainly evident under his rough exterior. Dr. Laverty quickly learns to adapt his clinical methods to his clientele and is soon winning respect by delivering babies and correctly diagnosing thyroid problems. When he is devastated by a misdiagnoses, Dr. O'Reilly helps to put things in perspective: "...not living up to your own personal standards last night may seem like the end of the world to you. It's not. You'll make mistakes. Even when you've done absolutely everything right, you'll still ask yourself questions when somebody falls off the perch in spite of you. But none of us is te Pope in Rome speaking ex cathedra" (237).

I was a little disappointed that there wasn't more Irish lore and history in this novel, but it's obvious that wasn't the author's purpose. The story is driven by characters, and though those characters were shaped by history most of that is implied rather than explained. So we are only given brief descriptions of the relations between Protestants and Catholics in the town, passing mentions of lingering superstitions, and references to traditional food items. In the last category, Taylor did give a little extra by including three recipes at the end purportedly from the kitchen of Mrs. Kinkaid, better known as Kinky, Dr. O'Reilly's housekeeper, whose story is told in Taylor's newest novel, An Irish Country Girl.

I've heard Taylor's Irish Country books compared to All Things Bright and Beautiful and other titles by James Herriot, but from what I remember, Herriot's tales were more anecdotal, while An Irish Country Doctor recounts only a few weeks' worth of experiences, weaving together the stories of several families and individuals and neatly bringing closure to almost all of them. In that sense, I thought the denouement(s) was a little too good to be true, but it's fiction, and a happy ending all around is sure to please. I plan to read the other Irish Country novels in due time, but I think I'll reserve them for when I need a quick, positive read after some heavier fare.

I read this book as part of the 2010 Ireland Reading Challenge.

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver

2010-03-30T00:15:00.001-04:00

Animal Vegetable Miracle has been on my to be read list for quite some time. I didn't get to it during the 2009 TBR Challenge, so when my "old" bookclub decided to read it in March, I decided it was time to dig in.

Barbara Kingsolver and her family moved from Tuscon, AZ to rural Virginia in order to live closer to the sources of their food. Once they were settled on their small farm, they committed to eating locally grown food in season for one year. Much of this came from their own garden and barnyard, but they also frequented farmer's markets and had many connections with farmers for free-range meat and other products. They were not absolute purists, for they still bought coffee, flour, spices, and such things that simply don't grow in Virginia, but the vast majority of their food came from within a 100 mile radius of their home.

I found this book to be both inspiring and aggravating. I am somewhat more committed to growing my own garden, although I do not share the author's love of the soil. I would still rather be inside baking or reading than outside digging in the dirt. (I attribute this proclivity to the indoors to severe allergies which kept me inside most of my childhood - inside reading books, of course!) But since the home we moved into 7 months ago has an existing garden, I really have no excuse not to at least plant some essential vegetables that I know my family will use and enjoy.

If nothing else, the cost savings will motivate me to grow my own vegetables. Since I refuse to pay $1.25 per pound for butternut squash, I did without it most of last fall and winter (only splurging for Thanksgiving). I am really looking forward to spending a few dollars on seeds and, Lord willing, having a good supply of winter squash to store and enjoy next fall. Ditto for tomatoes which will be lined up in canning jars on my shelves by fall, I hope.

Barbara Kingsolver kept careful records of their expenditures throughout their year of locavore eating, and calculated that they spent an average of $6 per day for their family of four - that means a grocery budget of less than $200 per month! I find this to be astounding, since my grocery expenses are between 25-50% more than that, but we are not eating free-range meat or organic/locally grown grains and produce since those types of items generally cost much more. Sometimes, I feel the cost is worth it in health benefits, as in a cow share in order to have raw milk, but often I just can't bring myself to pay for these specialized foods.

Animal Vegetable Miracle reads more like a memoir than a gardening book, and Kingsolver often captures the humor and the wonder of farm life. It differs from a memoir, however, in that one does not just get a glimpse of another's life: there is a sublte - or sometimes not so subtle - agenda behind the story. She argues her case gently, in most cases, using experiential proofs more than documenting hard evidence. This didn't bother me since I approached it as a memoir, and I gleaned only those practical tidbits that I deemed useful. I did find it interesting that her numbers were sometimes presented in a way to dramatize the facts, as in this little tidbit: "...participating family farms collectively sold $236,000 worth of organic produce to retailers and supermarkets, which those markets, in turn, sold to consumers for nearly $0.3 million." (202) Now, if we were to compare apples to apples, that $0.3 million is really $333,333, which does not sound like quite such an astounding ~~ripoff~~ profit, though I must confess to ignorance of what the typical markup on produce is. So obviously, there is an agenda. For those who want more facts and the sources behind them, her husband Steven Hopp has written short pieces in many chapters which provide more of the socio-political and scientific background, and there are also references and resources listed in the back.

From the perspective of a Christian worldview, it is apparent that Kingsolver's desire to eat local produce and free-range meat coupled with her concern for the environment has become a new religion. On the subject of planting asparagus, she writes:

"I sweated to dig it into countless yards I was destined to leave behind, for no better reason than that I believe in vegetables in general, and this one in particular. Gardeners are widely known and mocked for this sort of fanaticism. But other people fast or walk long pilgrimages to honor the spirit of what they believer makes our world whole and lovely. If we gardeners can, in the same spirit, put our heels to the shovel, kneel before a trench holding tender roots, and then wait three years for an edible incarnation of the spring eqinox, who's to make the call between ridiculous and reverent?" (29, emphasis added; do you see the religious overtones?)

Similarly, she describes her approach to eating meat in these terms: "I take my gospel from Wendell Berry, who writes in What Are People For, 'I dislike the thought that some animal has been made miserable in order to feed me.'" (221), emphasis added; however persuasive one might find Berry's argument, I wouldn't put it in terms of the gospel. Yes, I understand that she is using the term more generally than THE Gospel of Jesus Christ, but such terminology sets a tone of religiosity for her eating choices.)

Thanksgiving is stripped of any reference to the Pilgrim's faith and instead described as a day to "[w]ake up now, look alive, for here is a day off work just to praise Creation: the turkey, the squash, and the corn, these things that ate and drank sunshine, grass, muc, and rain, and then in the shortening days laid down their lives for our welfare and onward resolve. There's the miracle for you, the absolute sacrifice that still holds back seeds: a germ of promise to do the whole thing again, another time." (284, emphasis added; note again the Christian terms applied to creation.)

Although a self-proclaimed feminist, she has the courage to criticize the fallout of the feminist movement: "We gave up the aroma of warm bread rising, the measured pace of nurturing routines, the creative task of molding our families' tastes and zest for life; we received in exchange the minivan and the Lunchable. (Or worse, convenience-mart hot dogs and latchkey kids.) I consider it the great hoodwink of my generation." (127) Unfortunately, she still seems to advocate the "have-it-all" mentality that a woman can go to work, swing by the farmer's market at lunch or on her way home, and get the husband and kids to help make a fresh, home cooked meal when she gets home. Hmmmm...there's still something wrong with this picture.

In spite of these differences in philosophy, I do agree with Kingsolver's premise: "eating home-cooked meals from whole, in-season ingredients obtained from the most local source available is eating well, in every sense. Good for the habitat, good for the body." (31) Yes, that is a good-thing. But is it something I will shape my life around? No. I will, however, probably try some of the recipes that Barbara's daughter Camille included in the book and on the book's website.

I don't aspire to imitate the Hopp/Kingsolver family's food experiment, but I do want to incorporate more fresh/local food in our diet. My motivation, however, would be primarily for health reasons, not to reduce my environmental footprint, halt global warming, or limit my use of fossil fuels. There is an element of stewardship to consider, of course (except in the case of global warming, which is a crumbling myth), but my faith and family are the first priorities of my stewardship, not the earth. This is not to exclude good stewardship of the earth from my faith, but it does mean that my time, money, and other resources will be governed by more, much more, than simply the earth and my stomach.

The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis

2010-03-25T22:51:00.000-04:00

I feel like I'm falling behind in both blogging and reading, so I'm returning to my "favorite quotations" method of book blogging. I read The Screwtape Letters in an older paperback (published by A Mentor Book in 1988), but it looks like most paperback editions are out of print, or at least not readily available on Amazon. The image is not the same book that I read, but it was the best available.

For those who are not familiar with the premise of the book, it is a series of letters from a senior demon named Screwtape to his nephew Wormwood, giving him advice on the management of his patient (human) so as to lure him away from the Enemy (God). For such a small book, it is extremely thought-provoking and insightful, not only of the human condition but also of the character and nature of God.

ON HUMAN RELATIONS: "Your patient must demand that all his own utterances are to be taken at their face value and judged simply on the actual words, while at the same time judging all his mother's utterances with the fullest and most oversensitive interpretation of the tone and the context and the suspected intention. She must be encouraged to do the same to him. Hence from every quarel they can both go away convinced, or very nearly convinced, that they are quite innocent." (11)

ON PRAYER: after giving examples of how humans tend to pray to a mental image of God, either figurative or literal, Screwtape writes, "But whatever the nature of the composite object, you must keep him praying to it - to the thing that he has made, not to the Person who has made him...For if he ever comes to make the distinction, if ever he consciously directs his prayers 'Not to what I think thou art but to what thou knowest thyself to be,' our situation is, for the moment, desperate." (16)

ON PLEASURE: "Never forget that when we are dealing with any pleasure in its healthy and normal and satisfying form, we are, in a sense, on the Enemy's ground. I know we have won many a soul through pleasure. All the same, it is His invention, not ours. He made the pleasures; all our research so far has not enabled us to produce one. All we can do is to encourage the humans to take the pleasures wheich our Enemy has produced, at times, or in ways, or in degrees, which He has forbidden. Hence we always try to work away from the natural condition of any pleasure to that in which it is least natural, least redolent of its Maker, and least pelasurable." (34)

"The man who truly and disinterestedly enjoys any one thing in the world, for its own sake, and without caring twopence what other people say about it, is by that very fact forearmed against some of our subtlest modes of attack." (56)

"[The Enemy] has filled His world full of pleasures. There are things for humans to do all day long without His minding in the least - sleeping, washing, eating, drinking, making love, playing, praying, working. Everything has to be twisted before it's any use to us." (87)

ON LOSING SELF: "When [the Enemy] talks of their losing their selves, He only means abandoning the clamour of self-will; once they have done that, He really gives them back all their personality, and boasts (I am afraid, sincerely) that when they are wholly His they will be more themselves than ever. Hence, while He is delighted to see them sacrificing even their innocent wills to His, He hates to see them drifting awy from their own nature for any other reason. And we should always encourage them to do so. The deepest likings and impulses of any man are the raw material, the starting point, with which the Enemy has furnished him. (51)

ON PRIDE: "The Enemy wants to bring the man to a state of mind in which he could design the best cathedral in the world, and know it to be the best, and rejoice in the fact, without being any more (or less) or otherwise glad at having done it than he would be if it had been done by another. The Enemy wants him, in the end, to be so free from any bias in his own favour that he can rejoice in his own talents as frankly and gratefully as in his neighbour's talents - or in a sunrise, an elephant, or a waterfall. He wants each man, in the long run, to be able to recognise all creatures (even himself) as glorious and excellent things." (55)

ON TIME & ETERNITY: "The humans live in time but our Enemy destines them to eternity. He therefore, I believe, wants them to attend chiefly to two things, to eternity itself, and to that point of time which they call the Present. For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity. Of the present moment, and of it only, humans have an experience analogous to the experience which our Enemy has of reality as a whole; in it alone freedom and actuality are offered them." (57)

ON THE IDEAL WOMAN: "...we are more and more directing the desires of men to something which does not exist - making the role of the eye in sexuality more and more important and at the same time making its demands more and more impossible. What follows you can easily forecast!" (79)

ON UNSELFISHNESS: "...you can from the very outset teach a man to surrender benefits not that others may be happy in having them but that he may be unselfish in forgoing them. That is a great point gained. Another great help, where the parties concerned are male and female, is the divergence of view about Unselfishness which we have built up between the sexes. A woman means by Unselfishness chiefly taking trouble for others; a man means not giving trouble to others...Thus while the woman thinks of doing good offices and the man of respecting other people's rights, each sex, without any obvious unreason, can and does regard the other as radically selfish." (105-106)

ON HUMAN FREEDOM & DIVINE SOVEREIGNTY: "...the Enemy does not foresee the humans making their free contributions in the future, but sees them doing so in His unbounded Now. And obviously to watch a man doing something is not to make him do it." (112-113)

ON GUILT: "There is, of course, always the chance, not of chloroforming the shame, but of aggravating it and producing Despair. This would be a great triumph. It would show that he had believed in, and accepted, the Enemy's forgiveness of his other sins only because he himself did not fully feel their sinfulness - that in respect of the one vice which he really understands in its full depth of dishonour he cannot see, nor credit, the Mercy. But I fear you have already let him get too far in the Enemy's school, and he knows that Despair is a greater sin than any of the sins which provoke it." (122-123)

Ireland Reading Challenge

2010-03-17T11:41:00.006-04:00

I generally don't like to commit to challenges because I usually have a big enough pile of books between what I read for book clubs and what I choose from my mental or written TBR list. I like to choose my next book without the constraints of a challenge or multiple challenges dictating my choice. With that said, however, I'm going to join the Ireland Reading Challenge hosted by CarrieK at Books and Movies because it fits with the priorities on my mental TBR list quite well!

I am hoping to read 4 books by November 30, 2010 for the Luck o' the Irish level. I might change my mind, but these are the titles I hope to read (the Amazon links will be updated with links to my reviews as I finish these books):

An Irish Country Doctor
The Yellow House: A Novel
The Banks of the Boyne: A Quest for Christian Ireland
Great Irish Short Stories

edited to add other intriguing titles:
1916: A Novel of the Irish Rebellion based on this review at Truth in Fiction

Against the Odds: Tales of Achievement by L. M. Montgomery

2010-03-09T14:09:00.006-05:00

What is the best antidote after a hopeless novel like Sister Carrie? Why, L. M. Montgomery, of course!

I didn't participate in the L. M. Montgomery Challenge at Reading to Know this year because the library did not co-operate with supplying the books I hoped to read. I had planned to read the Emily of New Moon series, but they only had the 2nd and 3rd books, not the first one, which was no good. So I put a hold on this collection of short stories: Against The Odds: Tales of Achievement. Unfortunately, it wasn't available until February - too late for the challenge. At least the timing was just right to restore my hopes for North American authors after my disappointment with Dreiser.

Whatever Dreiser's characters lacked in strength of character, determination, honor, or good old-fashioned work ethic, L. M. Montgomery finds in abundance in these short stories that span Canada from Prince Edward Island to Saskatchewan. For some reason, I don't often read short stories, but I was not disappointed with these. They are as charming, funny, and insightful as any of Montgomery's other fiction, and I am amazed at how she can capture characters so memorably in just a few pages. Her picturesque descriptions, though not as extensive as in the Anne books, transports one to the location and setting, making it easy to imagine you are sitting on the front porch or traversing the wilderness.

Here are some of my favorite bits from a few of these stories.

from "The Fillmore Elderberries":
"Ellis did hold out. The elderberries tried to hold out too, but they were no match for the lad's perseverance. It was a hard piece of work, however, and Ellis never forgot it. Week after week he toiled in the hot summer sun, digging, cutting, and dragging out roots. The job seemed endless, and his progress each day was discouragingly slow." (34)

from "Dorinda's Desperate Deed":
"But now Dorinda had come back to the little white house on the hill at Willowdale, set back from the road in a smother of apple trees and vines...Dorinda and her mother talked matters out fully one afternoon over their sewing, in the sunny south room where the winds got lost among the vines halfway through the open window." (39-40)

from "The Genesis of the Doughnut Club":
"...talk as you like, you can't preach much good into a boy if he's got an aching void in his stomach. Fill that up with tasty victuals, and then you can do something with his spiritual nature. If a boy is well stuffed with good things and then won't listen to advice, you might as well stop wasting your breath on him, because there is something radically wrong with him. Probably his grandfather had dyspepsia. And a dyspeptic ancestor is worse for a boy than predestination, in my opinion." (51)

"You see Providence did answer my prayers in spite of my lack of faith; but of course He used means, and that Thanksgiving dinner of mine was the earthly instrument of it all." (56)

The theology might be lacking a bit in the dyspepsia comments, but it still made me laugh! And lest one think that a "pull yourself up by the bootstraps" attitude is biblical, the latter quote gives a good perspective on providence and human responsibility.

from "At the Bay Shore Farm":
"They talked longer - an earnest, helpful talk that went far to inspire Frances's hazy ambition with a definite purpose. She understood that she must not write merely to win fame for herself or even for the higher motive of pure pleasure in her work. She must aim, however humbly, to help her readers to higher planes of thought and endeavor. Then and only then would it be worthwhile." (78-79)

Perhaps that last quote aptly summarizes what I found lacking in Sister Carrie. Dreiser's novel can certainly serve as a warning against a complacent lifestyle and lack of morals, but it does not offer any positive alternative.

Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser

2010-03-04T22:21:00.011-05:00

I read Sister Carrie as part of an Indiana author theme that my book club has been pursuing for a few months. It also would have fit well with the theme of fallen women that my previous book club discussed, but did not pursue, a year or two ago.

Of the other classic "fallen woman" tales that I have read, however, this would probably be my least favorite. I didn't particularly like the characters in Vanity Fair, but the historical details were interesting. In spite of Hardy's fatalism, I did like Tess of the D'Urbervilles for its beautiful narratives and vivid characters. But I am truly hard pressed to find anything that I like about Sister Carrie. The writing style is dull and tedious; the characters are mostly apathetic (and incredibly stupid, though that's not very nice to say); and the historical setting is extremely narrow in scope and description. If my book club's meeting had not been postponed for a week, I probably would not have even finished the book, which is something I rarely let myself do.

Carrie comes to Chicago at the age of eighteen to seek employment and find better prospects than her small Wisconsin hometown could afford. She finds work in a shoe factory, but spends most of her time bemoaning the hard labor and envying the rich who seem to lead such an easy and glamorous life. When she loses her job due to illness and is almost destitute, she is "saved" by Drouet, a travelling salesman who establishes her as his "wife." Among Drouet's acquaintances, Carrie is introduced to Hurstwood, a successful manager at least twice her age who is dissatisfied with his home life and quickly enamoured with Carrie. Hurstwood is charming, but deceptive. He hides that he is married; he steals $10,000 from his employer; he lies to Carrie so that she will run away with him; he even deceives her in supposedly marrying her, since that was not done legally either. Carrie and Hurstwood attempt to start a new life in New York, but Hurstwood struggles to succeed and Carrie is still jealous of her wealthy neighbors. When Hurstwood's business venture fails after a few years, he sinks into depression over his inability to find work. Finally driven to frustration, Carrie begins to work as a chorus girl and quickly achieves success and fame as an actress, leaving Hurstwood behind to fend for himself. As Carrie lives the life of luxury of which she had always dreamed, Hurstwood sinks lower and lower, begging and subsisting from day to day on the generosity of various charities. Yet Carrie is still unsatisfied and, above all, lonely. "This too is vanity and striving after wind."

I cannot help but compare Carrie to Tess. While it is true that both Hardy and Dreiser had a fatalistic world view, their portrayal of these women is vastly different. Tess is portrayed as a victim, one who was dealt the worst lot in spite of all her efforts to be good. Carrie, on the other hand, appears as one who is merely carried along by her circumstances, seldom protesting even if she doesn't like something. Goodness is inconsequential because her chief motivation is comfort. As long as she is provided for decently, she will go along with whatever farce is necessary to keep up appearances. Granted, Tess eventually succumbed to that at the end, but it was her last resort, not a continual habit. Needless to say, I can respect and feel sympathy toward a character like Tess much more than Carrie.

The narrator occasionally comments on this apathy, but generally it seems to be more social commentary than moral judgment. When Carrie accepted Drouet's help and became his mistress, we're told "She followed whither her craving led. She was yet more drawn than she drew" (74). Hurstwood wrestles about whether to steal the money from his employer for several pages, but for all that indecision the narrator notes, "The true ethics of the situation never once occurred to him. It is most certain that they never would have, under any circumstances" (270).

It is interesting to note the insights into roles of men and women. When Carrie gives up on Hurstwood's fruitless job search and starts to look for work, "Hurstwood saw her depart with some faint stirrings of shame, which were the expression of a manhood rapidly becoming atrophied" (381). Of Carrie, it is said, "It is curious to note how quickly a profession absorbs one. Carrie became wise in theatrical lore...Gradually the desire for notice took hold of her. She longed to be renowned like others and read with avidity all the complimentary or critical comments made concerning others high in her profession. The showy world in which her interests lay completely absorbed her" (442). By this time she had left Hurstwood and seldom gave him another thought. How sad for both the man and the woman when the roles of provider and nurturer are reversed.

In a word, I found Sister Carrie to be a truly pathetic story - not tragic, but pitiful in the foolishness and futility of it all. The characters are "driven and tossed by the wind" of their desires for love, fortune, or success, and as a result they make ridiculously foolish choices. I found it incredibly frustrating to observe their stupidity and naivete, especially coupled with the fact that they didn't learn from their experiences. Though I don't expect I'll need another dose of fatalism anytime soon, I'll take Hardy over Dreiser any day!

The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley

2010-02-26T21:59:00.006-05:00

Well, Flavia de Luce isn't Lord Peter Wimsey, but I still enjoyed this mystery novel with an 11-year-old heroine set in 1950's rural England. When I saw a summary of The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie on Semicolon's list of Top 12 Adult Books Published in 2009, I immediately put it on hold at my library.

Flavia is a very precocious and presumptuous young lady. She has a graduate student's knowledge of chemistry and an analytical mind which quickly absorbs and processes details. So when she finds a man breathing his last in the cucumber patch of the family estate, she's thrilled (not terrified) and immediately begins to piece the puzzle together, always managing to stay one step ahead of the police inspector.

I was a little unsure about Flavia at first. Her eccentricities have not endeared her to her two older sisters, and there is an ongoing rivalry between them wherein Flavia uses her chemistry skills to inflict various, shall we say, discomforts. It's a little unsettling for an 11-year-old character to be talking about poison so frequently, not to mention the fact that the detective could just as easily be the villain, at least in the matter of skill and resources.

In spite of this little uncertainty, I soon grew sympathetic toward Flavia. Her family situation is unusual since her mother died when she was a baby, her father is obsessed with his stamp collection, her oldest sister is consumed with her appearance, and the middle sister lives in books (now that I could sympathize with immediately!). As for the mystery, it was not so very complicated, but there were enough suspicious characters to keep me guessing most of the way through. I thought the climactic ending was a bit overdone, but it wrapped things up neatly and with a touch of humor, at least.

Mysteries are an ideal genre for serials, and I'm glad to know that Mr. Bradley has another Flavia de Luce mystery scheduled to be released in less than two weeks. I've already placed a hold on The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag at my library!

Whose Body? by Dorothy L Sayers

2010-02-16T21:29:00.003-05:00

Ah, Lord Peter Wimsey, it has been too long since last we met. . . in the pages of book. Let me count the ways that I love thee, O masterful creation of Dorothy Sayers.

I love how Sayers manages to give her readers an education, in this case, by including details of rare Dante documents or folios, which Lord Peter collects. Even more interesting is that this was not yet one of her areas of academic expertise, since she didn't learn Italian and translate Dante's Divine Comedy until twenty years later (published in three volumes: Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise.

Sayers broad classical education, however, is evident in more than references to Dante. Lord Peter quotes poetry and other bits of literature quite naturally throughout his dialogues and even his monologues when thinking out loud. Perhaps after teaching my children along classical lines, I'll be able to recognize and understand more of the literary references that permeate these novels.

I love that Sayers' characters have depth, and even in this first Lord Peter mystery, we learn a lot about his nature and idiosyncrasies, including such humorous touches as his very dry British humor and the more serious lingering effects of World War I upon his health and disposition. Solving crimes is a distraction from the brutal memories of war, but he still wrestles with the fact that once he has found out who-dun-it, the murderer will pay for his crime with his life. He's tempted at times to leave well enough alone, but whether for the mental exercise and triumph or for a sense of justice he perseveres.

I began my acquaintance with Lord Peter in the middle of the series with Strong Poison when Harriet Vane makes her appearance. Although I still have eight novels and the collection of short stories to read (so I can't be certain of whether it's mentioned elsewhere) I find it very intriguing that we see this very personal side of Peter - of how he struggles with the fact that his sleuthing will not only bring justice, but death to the criminal - in the first and last novels, Whose Body? and Busman's Honeymoon. That's a nice bit of chiastic structure to bookend the series.

Sayers also introduces us to other important characters who reappear in later books. There's the inimitable Bunter, the epitome of an English butler in all matters of propriety and service, as well as assistant and sounding board for detective matters. Lord Peter's mother, the Dowager Duchess also plays a more prominent role in this novel than most of the others I've read, giving Lord Peter the tip about the murder and following the case with more interest than his brother the Duke thinks proper. The family dynamics here seem realistic, or at least they are stereotypical of how Americans envision nobility, which makes it all the more humorous.

I love British humor, probably because I always take things so seriously, and Lord Peter manages to be funny while at the same time being dead serious. But while there is plenty of tongue-in-cheek humor, Sayers also deals with serious subjects such as psychology and morality, or the question of whether morals are universal or merely patterns infused upon one's brain. Without preaching or even drawing explicit conclusions, it is clear that Lord Peter Wimsey has a solid foundation for morality, at least when it comes to "thou shalt not kill." And that is another reason I love Dorothy Sayers mysteries: they were written before postmodernism killed all attempts at absolutes, and quite frankly, I find that very refreshing.

[Edited to add] I forgot one little thing that I didn't like in this book: Lord Peter and a few of the other characters were dropping their "g's" all over the place. I don't remember this bit of vernacular in the later novels, and it doesn't really seem fitting for an English gentleman, educated at Oxford and all. I'm not quite sure what Sayers was trying to accomplish with that, and I hope it doesn't last long.

A Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton-Porter

2010-02-10T21:49:00.004-05:00

I really should write a review of one book before I start another, because now I don't want to put down another Lord Peter Wimsey mystery to write about A Girl of the Limberlost. So I'll try to make this short (although a quick scroll down my posts indicates that is generally not a quality of this blog).

As much as I liked Freckles, I think A Girl of the Limberlost is a much better novel. The characters are much more diverse and developed in more detail. The story is more complex, though there are some similar features: a neglected child with innate goodness and a strong work ethic, details about the Limberlost swamp and its creatures, and a little romance with the male lover becoming deathly ill. I wonder if these are consistent themes throughout Stratton-Porter's novels.

Once I got over the initial disappointment that this sequel did not directly or immediately carry on the story of Freckles and the Swamp Angel (though they do have minor supporting roles), it was easy to love Elnora - to cheer for her hard-working tenacity and good nature and sigh over every turn of hard luck. At one point, Elnora thinks she might as well be a fatalist for all the bad things that keep happening, but in spite of many difficulties, everything turns out all right in the end for all the characters. In comparison with the fatalism of Thomas Hardy in Tess of the D'Urbervilles, Elnora's life is almost a fairy tale.

In respect to characters, I appreciated how Gene Stratton-Porter portrayed Elnora's mother, the primary antagonist. She was so grief-stricken and, as a result, self-centered that she has no regard for her daughter until the truth about her late husband's character really does set her free. Her transformation of character is truly amazing, and a healing balm to Elnora, who had hungered for her mother's love for almost 20 years. Mrs. Comstock's transformation is not the only biblical truth illustrated in this story. Elnora's mother gives a wonderful speech, no, an exaltation really, when she accompanies Elnora to the swamp to collect moths (which was the primary way Elnora funded her education). As I mentioned in my review of Freckles, Stratton-Porter presents a biblical worldview that is quite refreshing in this day of political correctness.

"Young people," she said solemnly, "if your studying science and the elements has ever led you to feel that things just happen, kind of evolve by chance, as it were, this sight will be good for you. Maybe earth and air accumulate, but it takes the wisdom of the Almighty God to devise the wing of a moth. If there ever was a miracle, this whole process is one. Now, as I understand it, this creature is going to keep on spreading those wings until they grow to size and harden to strength sufficient to bear its body. Then if flies away, mates with its kind, lays its eggs on the leaves of a certain tree, and the eggs hatch tiny caterpillars which eat just that kind of leaves, and the worms grow and grow, and take on different forms and colours until at last they are big caterpillars six inches long, with large horns. Then they burrow into the earth, build a house around themselves from material which is inside them, and lie through rain and freezing cold for months. A year from laying they come out like this, and begin the process all over again. They don't eat, they don't see distinctly, they live but a few days, and fly only at night; then they drop off easy, but the process goes on. . . There never was a moment in my life," she said, "when I felt so in the Presence as I do now. I feel as if the Almighty was so real, and so near, that I could reach out and touch Him, as I could this wonderful work of His, if I dared. I feel like saying to Him, 'To the extent of my brain power I realize Your presence, and all it is in me to comprehend of Your power. Help me to learn, even this late, the lessons of Your wonderful creations. Help me to unshackle and expand my soul to the fullest realization of Your wonders. Almighty God, make me bigger, make me broader!'" (296-297)

Well, you see, I can't do short reviews. But I think that long quotation was worth sharing. A Girl of the Limberlost is a delightful novel for those who love historical fiction. Like the Bird Woman's photographs*, it captures a place and period of history that are gone forever, but the insights to human suffering and joy, truth, and growth of character are timeless.

*My library had a copy of Moths of the Limberlost, a non-fiction title by Gene Stratton-Porter, originally published in 1912 and illustrated with black and white photographs. (Apparently some earlier editions had hand colored photographs - now that would be worth finding at a used book store!) I did not read it in its entirety, but it was interesting to see some of the moths mentioned in Freckles and A Girl of the Limberlost as well as read some anecdotes about how the author incorporated her own research and experiences in these novels.

Freckles by Gene Stratton-Porter

2010-01-29T20:52:00.004-05:00

I'm a little surprised that I never read anything by Gene Stratton-Porter since her writing seems like just the type of historical fiction I would have enjoyed as a teenager. But better late than never, I suppose, and I'm glad to find it now.

My book club is reading a series of Indiana authors, and Freckles is our current selection. It is not so well know as Stratton-Porter's A Girl of the Limberlost, which is actually the sequel to Freckles, and next on my library stack. In a few words, Freckles is quaint, endearing, beautiful, and simple - quite different from The Woman in White, but charming nonetheless.

The title character of this first novel is an orphan who has come of age and is trying to find his place in a world that despises him because he lacks one hand. He hides his maimed arm with bitterness, imagining that his parents abused him and left him to die at an orphanage where he endured a loveless childhood filled with rejection. When he happens into a lumbering camp, he convinces the Boss that he will be a strong and reliable guard for the timber of the Limberlost, an untouched tract of swampy land that has plenty of dangers of both the natural and criminal variety. In spite of his loneliness and fears of the wildness of the swamp, Freckles is a man of his word and valiantly conquers his fears, resolutely stands up to the thieves who would steal the valuable trees, and quickly wins the hearts of all those with whom he associates.

Freckles' noble character earns him the respect not only of the Boss, who loves him like a son, but also of a wealthy girl from a nearby town, whom Freckles dubs his Swamp Angel. He is quite aware of the social differences between them, but his adoration soon becomes a mutual friendship as they work with the Bird Woman to photograph and document the rare and multitudinous birds and butterflies of the Limberlost. A sudden accident leads to many revelations, not only of love, but of Freckles' early history and identity.

One's first impression might be that this is an environmentalist statement from the turn of the 20th century, for the descriptions of the untouched beauty of the flowers, birds, and creatures of the Limberlost stand in stark contrast to the blunt reality of a timber camp. But even as the author exults in the beauty of the Limberlost, she does not idolize it. The author and characters assume that taking the timber is an inevitable part of man mastering the land. While some creatures are loved and admired, snakes are a danger that must be killed, and Freckles does not hesitate to kill an otter for a pelt to make a fine muff for his Angel. Thus, while Stratton-Porter was a naturalist, she was not an environmentalist in the modern sense of the word. In fact, I would say from the ideas expressed in this novel (albeit a limited scope of her work) that she had a fairly biblical view of subduing the earth, namely that man is both master and steward of the earth which God has given for his sustenance and benefit.

This will be an excellent book to read aloud to my children when they are older - maybe in the 8 - 15 range - and one that I hope they will enjoy reading on their own, too. It has enough adventure to interest a boy and enough beauty and friendship to captivate a girl. Since we only live a few hours from the Gene Stratton-Porter State Historical Site, where her home along the Limberlost has been restored, her books could provide the basis for a nice unity study on Indiana history along with a fun field-trip and nature study.

I'm looking forward to reading A Girl of the Limberlost as well as other titles from the Library of Indiana Classics series. Does your state or country have any distinctive literature that relates its history or uniqueness?

Favorite passage from Freckles: "Of course, you're not lazy! No one would ever think that from your appearance. It's this I mean: there is something fine, strong, and full of power in your face. There is something you are to do in this world, and no matter how you woark at all these other things, or how successfully you do them, it is all wasted until you find the one thing that you can do best." (120)

The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins

2010-01-23T21:57:00.007-05:00

The Woman in White has been on my to-be-read list for well over a year, and it will now be near the top of my list of recommended classics for years to come. I suppose this is not a surprise since Dorothy Sayers reawakened my love of mysteries, and Wilkie Collins was one of the pioneers of that genre.

I must refrain from providing a summary of the novel, for it would be too easy to reveal key points of the mystery and spoil the fun of unravelling it oneself for future readers. I will say that I had figured out many of the key points about half way through the narrative, but I was still surprised with several plot twists. Collins masterfully crafted the way in which the pieces of the puzzle were searched for and found by the protagonist and gave us a happy ending, too! I have a great admiration for an author who can envision such a complex story, such a number of vivid and varied characters, and follow a number of different threads to bring the narrative to a consistent and satisfying conclusion. (The Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries are fine examples of this, as are, I might venture to add, the Harry Potter series.) I can only imagine how suspenseful it must have been to read this in its original serial form. I know I would have rushed to get my copy of All the Year Round or Harper's Weekly as soon as it came off the press from November 1859-July 1860! If one wanted to put oneself through such torture (and I will tell you that many chapters end with such suspense that I just had to keep reading) there is a fascinating project commemorating the 150th anniversary of The Woman in White by making the original publications available on a weekly basis via the web or e-mail. Check it out here. They are only on the 9th installment as of this writing, so it would be fairly easy to catch up and read it in its original form, although I'm sure I would not have the forbearance to wait a whole week to find out what happened next.

I am sorry that I couldn't make the 6 hour drive to discuss this book with Captive Thoughts Book Club this week. It sounds like they spent some time discussing the way women were depicted in this novel*, and I must say that that issue did not even cross my mind as I was reading. Collins' portrayal of women seems fairly diverse and accurate for the time period, actually - not so satirical as Jane Austen's subtle critiques of society, nor so jaded with fatalism as Thackery or Hardy. We have the beautiful and innocent Laura Fairlie; the insightful, logical, and practical Marian Halcombe; the sad and mysterious Anne Catherick and her fallen but proud mother; the spiteful and opportunist aging aunt; and the trusting and faithful housekeeper, among others. Marian, in fact, seems to defy the stereotypes of a 19th century spinster (especially those presented in Cranford), for she is very firm in her thinking and actions and quite capable of taking matters into her own hands when the circumstances demand it. Those are simply my initial reflections, but I must admit that I tend to get caught up in the unfolding story of a mystery and sometimes lose sight of more overarching issues.

With that said, however, I would be interested to know if anyone who has read The Man Who Was Thursday and The Woman in White observed any similarities. I wonder if Chesterton crafted Sunday (who was portrayed as a villain, only to be shown otherwise) somewhat after Collins' villain here?

I will definitely be adding several more of Collins' works to my to-be-read list, including The Moonstone and the short story A House to Let, which he co-authored with Dickens, Elizabeth Gaskell, and Adelaide Proctor.

*Further conversation clarified that they were talking about weakness of constitution, that is, easily succumbing to illness or emotional trauma, not weakness of character. My misunderstanding shaped the comments above, though they still reflect my assessment of the women characters.

A Girl Named Zippy by Haven Kimmel

2010-01-13T22:24:00.005-05:00

I first read A Girl Named Zippy a couple of years ago when I was browsing the biography section of the library and was captured by the baby picture and sub-title: "Growing up Small in Moreland, Indiana." Within a few chapters, I was hooked and finished the book in just a few days. The same happened when I read the sequel She Got Up Off the Couch: And Other Heroic Acts from Mooreland, Indiana. And the same thing happened again when I reread Zippy this week. They are both funny, poignant, and painfully honest accounts of one family's joys and trials from a remarkably well-written child's perspective.

In reviewing She Got Up Off the Couch for my bookclub where I used to live, I wrote of Zippy:

Since I love subtle word-plays like Mary Engelbreit's "Life is just a chair of bowlies," anyone who spoke of "Growing up Small" must have a unique perspective on the world. I certainly wasn't disappointed, as this childhood memoir delivers Midwestern charm and humor by a pint-size agnostic with a knack for trouble and accidents. It had me laughing to the point of tears on several occasions. Being a country girl from the Midwest myself, I could certainly identify with elements of her story.

I must clarify that my childhood was not nearly so adventurous as Zippys's, but I never would have imagined two years ago that I would be living in Indiana myself! I'm not sure there is anything specifically Indianian (or Hoosier, to be more correct) about Haven Kimmel's childhood. It is probably pretty typical for any small American town in the 70's. Even though there are a few hints of darker fears and dangers, it was a pretty innocent childhood full of dirt and friends and scrapes and animals. I wouldn't, couldn't raise my children in the laissez faire manner her parents seemed to adopt, but I do wonder if parents inherently worried less about their children 40 years ago. Was there that much less to be concerned about, or was it simply less public and prominent than today?

At any rate, A Girl Named Zippy is a quick, fun read that I highly recommend for responsible teens and adults (I wouldn't want my kids to get any ideas or attitudes until they were discerning enough to sift the funny from the rebellious).

Unfortunately, I'm unable to provide you with a sample of the humor and wit as I had to return the book to the library (probably for another bookclub member who had placed a hold). I'm looking forward to discussing this with my new bookclub in Indiana (but not Mooreland, IN).

Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell

2010-01-10T22:27:00.007-05:00

For some reason, I had the idea that Cranford was a long novel. I must have assumed that from a review or two that I read whose writers thought it lacked plot and dragged on and on. I was mistaken on both counts since it's actually quite short (138 pages in the edition I read), and I, for one, did not think it moved too slowly. Granted, there was not a lot of action, but it was still a charming story - a slice of life narrative in which the characters did mature, deal with adverse circumstances and unexpected joys, and moved beyond their comfort zones, if only just a little bit.

Cranford is a small English village that has remained untouched by the industrial revolution. There is no landed aristocracy in the vicinity, and at the time of this narrative the principal residents of the town consist of aging spinsters and widows who occupy themselves with keeping up their forms of society, in spite of their limited incomes. "There, economy was always 'elegant,' and money-spending always 'vulgar and ostentatious'; a sort of sour-grapeism which made us very peaceful and satisfied." (3) The ladies spend their days observing their self-imposed rules of etiquette by receiving and returning calls in 15 minute intervals between the hours of twelve and three. Their sense of gentility and propriety lend a great deal of superficiality to their friendships, and as a consequence their conversations were usually very trivial as they kept up their appearances and reputation and patronized the working class beneath them. It is not until one of their number is reduced in means that they rally to support her, even in her business of selling tea to make ends meet. Additionally, when a relative newcomer to their society marries "beneath" her and an unexpected family member returns, they learn to value friendship over matters of convention.

Overall, I thought this was a charming story. It was funny, in the sense that I first envisioned it something like a whole town of Mrs. Olson's (from the Little House on the Prairie TV show), ladies who are slightly pretentious and pompous and overly concerned to keep up appearances. But really the little old ladies of Cranford are very sweet and good natured, and it was satisfying to see their characters develop and grow with change, both for good and ill, as the story progressed.

The "Mrs. Olson" factor did give it the flavor of a chronicle of town gossip, and it seemed that the narrative wandered a bit both in characters and time frame. In retrospect, this was actually giving necessary background information, but the narrative did seem to lack direction until it settled on one character, Miss Matty, and seemed less gossipy. I do not like anonymous narrators (as in Rebecca), so I was glad that the younger visitor who relates the story was finally called by name near the end. It would have been nice to hear more of her story, but I'm not sure if Ms. Gaskell wrote more about Mary Smith.

I was wondering how such a small book could be made into almost 5 hours of a BBC miniseries called Cranford, but from what I've gathered that series draws upon two of Gaskell's other short novels in addition to Cranford (all published together in The Cranford Chronicles). I'm not sure if I have the patience to sit through five hours of bustling busybodies, but we'll see.

I did find it interesting to read that Gaskell's style is likened to the American author Sarah Orne Jewett, whose The Country of the Pointed Firs I just picked up because it was about Maine. I will be interested in reading it to compare with Cranford.

New Year's Goals: Classics Bookclub, etc.

2010-01-08T23:54:00.008-05:00

So, I'm a little behind with posting my New Year's goals on January 8th, but at least it's still January!

I have long admired the Classics bookclub at 5 Minutes for Books, but I hadn't participated because it didn't fit with what I was currently reading and I didn't have (or take) the time to go back and revisit my thoughts on their book selection if I had read it months before. BUT they've changed the format for this year, and I like it! More flexibility, more options, more book reviews - I'm in! (Check out this post for all the details.)

Classics are very high on my reading priority list and are usually my book of choice in between bookclub selections. I'm going to continue working on the titles from my 2009 TBR Challenge, with Cranford, The Woman in White, and Great Expectations being my first options. I would love to read one or two more titles by Daphne du Maurier. I'd aslo like to read more from Dorothy Sayers, both fiction and non-fiction, and also in the mystery genre try some Agatha Christie (maybe choosing one based on reviews at A Library is a Hospital for the Mind) and G. K. Chesterton.

In reading aloud to my children, I hope to get to classics such as Little House on the Prairie, The Boxcar Children Books, and The Borrowers. I'll try to read Anne of Green Gables and maybe Anne of Avonlea with my daughter, too. It is such fun to share books that I enjoy(ed) with my children!

Beyond that, I am slowly building a collection of classics to add to my personal library, and I look forward to finding more titles to read and own as I read reviews from other bloggers.

Books Read in 2010

2010-01-02T23:29:00.032-05:00

This includes books that I read myself as well as the chapter books I read aloud to my children. The link is to my review where you will find each title linked to Amazon (from which I receive a very small percentage of purchases made from those links - I have yet to earn enough to even request the minimum amount, so I'm certainly not in this for the money!)

Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell
A Girl Named Zippy by Haven Kimmel (re-read)
Betsy-Tacy by Maud Hart Lovelace
The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins
Freckles by Gene Stratton-Porter
A Girl of the Limberlost by Gene Stratton-Porter
Whose Body? by Dorothy L. Sayers
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley
Betsy-Tacy and Tib by Maud Hart Lovelace
Sister Carrie by Theodore Dreiser
Against the Odds: Tales of Acheivement by L. M. Montgomery
The Screwtape Letters by C. S. Lewis
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver
An Irish Country Doctor by Patrick Taylor
The Weed that Strings the Hangman's Bag by Alan Bradley
Stepping Heavenward by Elizabeth Prentiss
Middlemarch by George Eliot
A Wizard of Earthsea by Ursula Le Guin
A Nest for Celeste by Henry Cole
Laddie: A True Blue Story by Gene Stratton-Porter
The Old Man and the Sea by Earnest Hemingway
Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw
Fairy Doll by Rumer Godden
The Book of the Unknown: Tales of the Thirty-six by Jonathon Keats
Mystery Ranch (The Boxcar Children Mysteries #4) by Gertrude Chandler Warner
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan
Mike's Mystery (The Boxcar Children Mysteries #5) by Gertrude Chandler Warner
When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead
Percy Jackson & the Olympians: Sea of Monsters by Rick Riordan
Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Titan's Curse by Rick Riordan
A Morbid Taste for Bones: The First Chronicle of Brother Cadfael by Ellis Peters
One Corpse Too Many: The Second Chronicle of Brother Cadfael by Ellis Peters
Blue Bay Mystery (The Boxcar Children Mysteries #6) by Gertrude Chandler Warner
Monk's Hood: The Third Chronicle of Brother Cadfael by Ellis Peters
The Voyage of the Dawn Treader (Unabridged Audiobook) by C. S. Lewis
The Night Fairy by Laura Amy Schlitz
Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Battle of the Labyrinth by Rick Riordan
Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Last Olympian by Rick Riordan
Great Irish Short Stories, edited by Evan Bates
Stuart Little by E. B. White
The Warden by Anthony Trollope
A Vintage Affair: A Novel by Isabel Wolff
Girl in Hyacinth Blue by Susan Vreeland
Girl with a Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier
Undaunted Courage: Meriweather Lewis, Thomas Jefferson, and the Opening of the American West by Stephen Ambrose
Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosnay
Tumtum & Nutmeg: Adventures Beyond Nutmouse Hall by Emily Bearn
The Yellow House by Patricia Falvey
An Irish Country Village by Patrick Taylor
Barchester Towers by Anthony Trollope
An Irish Country Christmas by Patrick Taylor
Fannie's Last Supper: Re-creating One Amazing Meal from Fannie Farmer's 1896 Cookbook by Christopher Kimball

Read Aloud Thursday - The Wind in the Willows

2009-12-31T10:01:00.002-05:00

My mom gave me a nicely illustrated edition of The Wind in the Willows a few years ago, and after our success with My Father's Dragon, it seemed a good time to try this classic English adventure story. My kids did enjoy it, though they weren't as enthusiastic about it as they were with Charlotte's Web or Three Tales of My Father's Dragon. I think some of the older British vocabulary and humor were beyond them (at 5 1/2 and 2 1/2), though I did try to explain as much as possible. The pictures were beautiful, and after reading How the Heather Looks, I couldn't help wondering if they actually depicted the section of the Thames where Kenneth Grahame took his inspiration for the setting of The Wind in the Willows and Earnest H. Shepard did the illustrations for earlier editions. (Inga Moore illustrated the edition I have, and her lush full-color illustrations, some even two-page illustrations, made it much more engaging for my children than Shepard's ink drawings, as classic as they may be.) Maybe someday I will travel in England and see for myself!

I think we will revisit this classic again in a few years when we will be able to have more fruitful discussions on topics such as friendship, coveting, selfishness, stealing, and making wise/foolish choices. I did find it a little unsettling that everything ends well for Mr. Toad in spite of all the bad decisions he makes. But Curious George puts me in the same quandary, and I still read them to my kids because they are fun and imaginative. The Wind in the Willows is also fun and imaginative, and the varied characters of each animal are endearing, even Mr. Toad and his mischief. I suppose it can be an illustration that the Lord causes the sun to shine upon both the just and the unjust as well as an example of mercy and grace in the sense of not receiving the justice that is due for one's actions. Stories that don't necessarily support one's values need not necessarily be avoided, for they can provide many fruitful discussions.

Evening in the Palace of Reason by James R. Gaines

2009-12-30T22:59:00.013-05:00

Evening in the Palace of Reason: Bach Meets Frederick the Great in the Age of Enlightenment is a book about history, about culture, about those who thought they were great and those who really were. It begins by reconstructing a meeting between Johann Sebastian Bach at age sixty-two and Frederick the Great, who was basking in the expansion of his kingdom after just a few years on the throne. Each chapter thereafter, traces the family history and lives of these two men bringing it back to the crux of their meeting in 1747. In an attempt to mock Bach's command of counterpoint and improvisation, Frederick challenged him to compose a three-part fugue on a nearly impossible theme, that is, it was nearly impossible to use this theme in the structured forms of composition for which Bach was known. Bach delivered this request on the spot, causing Frederick to set the bar even higher with a request for a six-part fugue. Bach declined the second challenge, but played a six-part fugue on another theme. In the matter of only two weeks, however, Bach completed his Musical Offering, a sixteen-movement work for piano that is considered a work of genius by all who have studied it.

Around these historical details, Gaines demonstrates that this musical challenge was really a duel between two competing worldviews: the principles of the Reformation and the Enlightenment. They "met at the tipping point between ancient and modern culture, and what flowed from their meeting would be a more than musical expression of that historical moment" (8).

Bach's life and work were informed by his faith. He accumulated a significant theological library for his time and carefully read and marked the text and commentary of his 1681 Lutheran Bible and Luther's collected works (169). His music was founded upon the firm principles of faith and belief in a universe ordered and governed by a sovereign God, so whether the subject was sacred or secular it could be marked S.D.G., soli deo gloria, to the glory of God alone. In contrast, "the 'enlightened' composer wrote for one reason and one only: to please the audience" (220).

I do not know the beliefs or religious background of the author, James Gaines. His accounts of the Reformation and Bach's high esteem of Luther occasionally hint at skepticism, but there is a touch of sarcasm in his treatment of the Enlightenment's optimism and hope in human reason, too. At any rate, his detached journalism does not prevent him from posing the following thesis - "Bach's Musical Offering leaves us, among other things, a compelling case for the following proposition: that a world without a sense of the transcendent and mysterious, a universe ultimately discoverable through reason alone, can only be a barren place; and that the music sounding forth from such a world might be very pretty, but it can never be beautiful" (12) - or from concluding with the late 18th century irony that "those who continued to claim their trust in reason did so more in hope than confidence, almost as an article of faith (of all things)" (259).

I didn't need to be convinced that Bach was a great composer, but it was intriguing to learn more of his personal history and his music (though I must admit that the music theory behind counterpoint is a little beyond me). I'm ready to start building a music library of his complete works, beginning with Bach: The Art of Fugue; Musical Offering! Karl Barth might have had portraits of Calvin and Mozart at equal heights in his study*, but if I were one to hang portraits of theologians and composers, I would have to choose Bach over Mozart. Calvin, of course, could stay!

*An interesting quote from an article by Theodore A. Gill in Theology Today from Princeton Theological Seminary:
"And with a now not so secret delight, I remember noting as I left Barth's study on a first visit those portraits of Calvin and of Mozart hanging over the adjacent doors. He has written of them: 'There are probably very few theological study rooms in which pictures of Calvin and Mozart are to be seen hanging next to each other and at the same height.' What he does not write is what he said when he noticed how taken I was with the juxtaposition. 'My special revelation,' he smiled, looking at Calvin. 'And my general revelation,' he said, as he beamed at Mozart. Was he smiling because it was a joke? Or because he knew something we didn't?"

The Man Who Was Thursday by G. K. Chesterton

2009-12-28T22:29:00.006-05:00

I have been reading this month, but I haven't felt like writing about what I've read. I've considered giving up blogging, but for now I'm going to revert to my original plan when I started over a year ago, that is, to record my favorite quotations from the books that I've read with very little commentary. In order to avoid copyright infringement, I will limit myself to no more than five quotations and will provide full bibliographic information at the beginning of each post.

Chesterton, G. K. The Man Who Was Thursday. New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1986 reprint of 1908.

“The rare strange things is to hit the mark; the gross, obvious thing is to miss it. We feel it is epical when man with one wild arrow strikes a distant bird. Is it not also epical when man with one wild engine strikes a distant station? Chaos is dull; because in chaos the train might indeed go anywhere...” (3)

“But indeed, this comic contrast between the yellow blossoms and the black hats was but a symbol of the tragic contrast between the yellow blossoms and the black business.” (72)

"'When I see the horrible back, I am sure the noble face is but a mask. When I see the face but for an instant, I know the back is only a jest. Bad is so bad, that we cannot but think good an accident; good is so good that we feel certain that evil could be explained...Shall I tell you the secret of the whole world? It is that we have only known the back of the world. We see everything from behind, and it looks brutal. That is not a tree, but the back of a tree. That is not a cloud, but the back of a cloud. Cannot you see that everything is stooping and hiding a face? If we could only get round in front – ?'” (110)

“'No,' said Syme, 'I do not feel fierce like that. I am grateful to you, not only for wine and hospitality here, but for many a fine scamper and free fight. But I should like to know. My soul and heart are as happy and quiet here as this old garden, but my reason is still crying out. I should like to know.'
'I am not happy,' said the Professor with his head in his hands, 'because I do not understand. You let me stray a little too near to hell.'
And then Gogol said, with the absolute simplicity of a child - 'I wish I knew why I was hurt so much.' (118)

I've heard some people comment on the incomprehensibility of this short novel, and I can't say that I've figured it all out either. I was able to guess how the plot would unfold fairly early in the book, but I haven't unraveled the meaning or determined if it was meant to be allegorical, satirical, or both. I'll leave such ponderings for another day. For now, I enjoyed it as a well-crafted story with beautiful descriptions interspersed with tidbits of wisdom. I look forward to reading more of Chesterton, both fiction and non-fiction, including The Complete Father Brown Stories, Orthodoxy, and Saint Thomas Aquinas: The Dumb Ox. What is your favorite Chesterton work?

Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen

2009-11-30T22:16:00.003-05:00

In a comparison of Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen wins hands down. Austen may create characters who are just as petty as Heyer's Elinor, but they are secondary characters - so even if they are shallow and selfish, they at least contribute to the development of the protagonist's maturity.

Northanger Abbey is the first I've read of Jane Austen in many years, and I enjoyed her tongue-in-cheek humor as she parodies the gothic romances of her time. Though I must admit, I enjoy the suspense and drama of gothic fiction, I don't mind poking fun at a generally unrealistic genre. Austen's characters seem very realistic, though they might be somewhat stereotypical, and she paints a very plausible "slice of life" from the early 19th century middle and upper classes of England.

The protagonist, or unlikely heroine, as Austen calls her, Catherine Moreland is an ordinary girl in all ways: pretty, but not strikingly beautiful; a good girl, but not accomplished in much of anything and educated only so far as she was compelled to study. She comes from a large family, so can expect but a small dowry or inheritance. At seventeen, she really had no aims or ambitions nor the ability to pursue any if she had, so the opportunity to visit Bath with wealthy and childless neighbors offers an exciting diversion at the end of a long winter. In Bath she makes several friends near her own age, one brother and sister who only flatter her to advance their own interests and another brother and sister who prove to be genuine friends, even though their station in life is much higher than Catherine's.

I suppose this could be called a coming of age story, for through a series of events Catherine learns the value of true friendship and how to be more discerning of others' flattery and motives. She also realizes that life seldom mirrors the melodrama of novels, especially "in the midland counties of England" (188), and embarassingly finds her fears and suspicions to be completely groundless. Austen is not incapable of building drama and suspense, but the denouements of these potential threats are so commonplace as to be laughable. For instance, on her first night at Northanger Abbey, where she was invited to stay with her friends Eleanor and Henry Tilney, she is captivated with an old chest in her room because such chests often held dark secrets in the novels she read. She finds the chest hard to open, and her investigation is interrupted by the maid. Finally, "[h]er resolute effort threw back the lid, and gave to her astonished eyes the view of a white cotton counterpane, properly folded, reposing at one end of the chest in undisputed possession!" (154-155). After such a build-up, all she finds is a bedspread! One can just imagine the twinkle in Austen's eye as she wrote that!

In sum, this is a well-paced novel that gives a historical perspective on ordinary life in the 19th century, uses irony to show the foolishness of the gothic genre, and most importantly shows development of character in Catherine becoming a less naive and more well-grounded young woman through her experiences. Of course, there is a little romance, one unfortunate and one pleasantly resolved, but Austen's version of romance is platonic instead of erotic - a fact which I appreciate as I think it is often more appropriate to leave the intricacies of love mysterious. There is no gratuitous falling into the arms of the hero, and the term "odious" only appears two or three times! As I concluded previously, I think I will stick with the classics!

Spotlight on Church History: Origen

2009-11-29T23:20:00.004-05:00

In the coming months, I intend to read more non-fiction, especially Church History and Historical Theology. As a first step towards those ends, I will periodically be posting summaries of biographies and other historical or theological texts that I read several years ago. These were originally written as an annotated bibliography. By posting them in this public forum, I hope to encourage others to delve into these important subjects for our faith in these days. These are not intended as "cliff notes" on academic texts, and I do not wish to encourage plagiarism or shoddy scholarship if other students happen upon them in the course of their research. Many of these books may be out of print but are likely available through university libraries or inter-library loan. I will provide a link to Amazon whenever possible, which will generate a small percentage to support my book fund if you make a purchase after following that link.

Origen (c. 185-254)
Crouzel, Henri. Origen - The Life and Thought of the First Great Theologian. Translated by A. S. Worrall. San Francisco: Harper and Row Publishers, 1989. (269 pages)

Crouzel writes a summary of Origen’s life and thought that is at once thorough, scholarly, objective, and sympathetic. His wide knowledge of all extant documents attributed to Origen allows him to evaluate the common conceptions of this early theologian with greater historical accuracy than is generally afforded him in other studies, and in so doing provides an excellent introduction for theological students and a springboard for further studies.

Origen was born in Alexandria, an intellectual center of the ancient world, in approximately 185 A.D. His life and theology were shaped by a classical and biblical education, his father’s martyrdom, and the unsettled times, both politically and theologically, in which he lived. Origen first earned his livelihood teaching grammar or rhetoric, but his biblical knowledge was recognized by Demetrius, the bishop of Alexandria, who made him head of the catechetical school when he was only eighteen years old (8). His teaching included both philosophy and theology, but his purpose was always to use philosophy to lead those who inquired about the Christian faith to baptism (27) and to provide Christians with Scriptural answers to intellectual problems to keep them from Gnostic sects (14, 153). In either 231 or 233, Origen traveled from Alexandria and eventually settled in Caesarea of Palestine where he continued to teach, occasionally enduring persecution, until his death in approximately 254-255.

After summarizing his life and cataloging his works, Crouzel divides the remainder of this study into three sections dealing with Origen’s exegesis, spirituality and theology. Origen is most often characterized as minimizing literal interpretation and seeking primarily an allegorical or spiritual meaning in Scripture. While Crouzel recognizes the limitations and weaknesses of Origen’s methods, he also demonstrates that Origen operated under a different definition of “literal” than the modern exegete. One today seeks the literal meaning in the intention of the author whatever the literary genre, but Origen understood “literal” to indicate strictly the words of the text (62). Thus, in many cases where the intention of the author is figurative or parabolic, Origen would find a spiritual meaning, while the modern exegete would claim it was a literal interpretation of the biblical author’s intention. Although one still might conclude that Origen took his quest for the spiritual meaning too far, understanding these differences in terms, does help the student to better appreciate Origen’s attempt in the context within which he worked.

Crouzel insists that much of Origen’s works, including the Treatise on First Principles which is the basis for much criticism, should be understood as “research theology,” or a theological exercise where many theological questions are pursued and various answers on both sides of the question are proposed and most often not resolved (167). Such a method is all the more understandable in the third century when many theological questions had not been worked out to their full extent by the Church. Origen has been misunderstood when fragments or sections of his writings are taken out of this pedagogical context and considered as dogmatic statements of his firm beliefs. These misunderstandings on the part of both his followers (Origenists of the fourth and sixth centuries) and critics (Jerome, Justinian, and the Constantinopolitan Council of 453) have overshadowed the significant portions of his theology in favor of ostracizing him over a few aberrant or inconclusive views, such as the pre-existence of souls or a universal restoration, for which Origen seems to have hoped while not insisting upon it. A more thorough study of primary sources, as Crouzel has undertaken, reveals that for his time Origen is orthodox on most points, including the Trinity, which had yet to be defined by the Arian controversy. In that controversy, in fact, Athanasius recognizes Origen as the source of the crucial phrase, “there was not when he was not,” in reference to the eternal generation of the Son (172, 268). Thus, a genuine history of doctrines must not disregard the value of Origen’s early expressions of theology simply because some of his ideas seem to contradict what was later more carefully defined and articulated.

The Reluctant Widow by Georgette Heyer

2009-11-20T22:33:00.007-05:00

I had reasonably high expectations for The Reluctant Widow since it was described as a mystery and (subtle) romance in the style of Jane Austen. But I was sadly disappointed. It's been a while since I've read any of Jane Austen's novels (though that is being remedied with Northanger Abbey next on my list), but I don't remember finding her characters so annoying or her use of adjectives so limited.

Elinor Rochdale has accepted her dull and tedious life as a governess, but when she gets in the wrong coach on the way to her next place of employment, she finds herself in the middle of a complicated web of family problems and secrets. Instead of a governess position, she is mistaken for a advertised bride, and after much persuasion agrees to marry Eustace, an unsavory character who only marries her on his deathbed to spite his cousin, Lord Carlyon, though he was actually playing into Lord Carlyon's plans to rid himself of an encumbering inheritance. So within a few hours of her marriage, Elinor is a widow, a very reluctant widow.

'But I do not want to be a widow!' declared Elinor.
'I am afraid it is now too late in the day to alter that,' said Carlyon.
'Besides, if you had known my cousin better you would have wanted
to be a widow,' Nicky [Carlyon's younger brother] assured her. (72)

At first I enjoyed the exchange of wit and touch of sarcasm that permeates the dialogue, but soon Elinor's whining got annoying. She rages against everything in her lot, seeming to forget that she had plenty of opportunity to refuse the marriage. She doesn't want to wear mourning clothes; she doesn't want to manage the estate she has inherited; she doesn't like the relatives who come to call. And she declares everything to be "odious" - that odious man, that odious dog, that odious boy, that odious old man. You would think a governess might have had a larger vocabulary! (I do realize that governesses were generally compelled to take up their occupation by lack of fortune rather than innate ability or education, but still, there are more ways to describe one's dislike than with the word "odious.")

In reading the introduction to Northanger Abbey, I was struck by the definition of a novel as a story in which the characters develop, maturing intellectually, psychologically, or spiritually over the course of the book. Unfortunately, Ms. Heyer seems not have been instructed in the fine art of novel writing, and I found it very unsatisfying that Elinor railed against most everything throughout the story, only to fall into the arms of one of those "odious" men at the end. I suppose some might argue that she was only angry and outspoken to cover her insecurities and true affections, but quite honestly, her character didn't have enough depth for me to make that conclusion.

I should note that I found two redeeming qualities. First, the mystery element at least made the plot interesting even if the solution was fairly obvious and easy to solve. Second, it was a quick read, making it easy to check another book off my TBR Challenge list.

If you love Georgette Heyer novels, I apologize for my lack of enthusiasm. Maybe you could recommend another one that I might like better, or maybe I'll just stick with Jane Austen and other classics.

Read-Aloud Thursday: My Father's Dragon and sequels

2009-11-19T09:01:00.003-05:00

Granted, I haven't been reading chapter books to my kids (ages 5 1/2 and 2 1/2) for that long (this was only our third, fourth, and fifth selections), but My Father's Dragon, along with the subsequent stories Elmer and the Dragon and The Dragons of Blueland, were instant hits at our house. How do my children (and I) love them? Let me count the ways...

1. These are page turners for the preschool and early elementary set. Each chapter ends with enough suspense that it was immediately met with "Can we read another chapter? Just one more, please." What a way to foster an excitement for reading!

2. The chapters are short, but full of fantastic adventures. Thus, the story moves very quickly. Even I wanted to find out what would happen next, if the truth be told. Taking these first two points into account, it only took us a little over a week to read the three books (242 pages in the one volume edition).

3. There are lots of pictures in each short chapter; in fact, it is pretty rare to have a two-page spread of all text. Although they are fairly simple black and white drawings, the illustrations give enough visual representation to the story to make it come alive, while leaving plenty of room for the imagination, too. I also liked the maps on the end pieces, which were nicely illustrated and clearly labeled, so that we could follow along to see where the story was taking place (learning basic map skills, too).

4. Elmer is an ordinary boy, and many of his adventures involve animals that children would recognize. I think younger children appreciate an element of familiarity along with fantasy and mystical creatures. Although encountering tigers, lions, and alligators could be frightening, Elmer's ingenuity and resourcefulness quickly resolve potential dangers. Even the dragon is only a baby dragon, and one with blue and yellow stripes, red feet, and gold wings.

5. My 2 1/2 year-old boy was ENGAGED in these stories. He listened attentively and asked pertinent questions about the story line. This is a marked difference from our last read-aloud The Trumpet of the Swan, which was probably a little above his comprehension level.

6. These stories were memorable, so much so that any mention of a dragon, and my son cries, "I want to read about Elmer and the dragon!" I hope all other dragon stories are not a disappointment to him in the future.

7. Not only is this a great read-aloud, but I think it will also be one of the first chapter books my daughter will want to read on her own. She's currently reading Little Bear aloud to me among other things, but I look forward to the day when I find her sprawled on her bed or curled up on the couch with a good book. The Three Tales of My Father's Dragon would be an ideal "big" book to start with for the reasons listed above, especially the short chapters, as it would help her to find independent reading fun instead of tedious.

So, if you have young readers, get thee to thy library or bookstore and find My Father's Dragon. Your kids will thank you!

(I couldn't get the "Read-Aloud Thursday" button to work, but if you'd like to read more reviews of great read-aloud books, please check out Hope is the Word.)

How the Heather Looks by Joan Bodger

2009-11-17T20:47:00.002-05:00

"A Joyous Journey to the British Sources of Children's Books" is a very accurate subtitle for this delightful book.

In the mid-1950's, Joan Bodger and her family - husband John, 8-year-old son Ian, and 2 1/2-year-old daughter Lucy - took an extended trip to England to find as many connections to the stories they loved while exploring the countryside. It was a trip that any Anglophile or bibliophile, especially one with children, would love to repeat. Realistically, that's not possible for most of the Anglophile and bibliophiles I know, especially those with children, so we can live vicariously through Joan Bodger's account of their travels and adventures.

From spending two weeks in a gypsy wagon and cooking in a converted chicken coop, to sculling the Thames along the same stretch of river that inspired The Wind in the Willows, How the Heather Looks: A Joyous Journey to the British Sources of Children's Books provides rich descriptions, unforgettable experiences, and unique comments on both well-known classics and forgotten treasures of children's literature.

The chapter headings are somewhat indicative of the regions they visited or books and authors that they tried to find, but they are by no means comprehensive. "A Peak in Narnia," for instance, dwells mostly on their sojourn in the gypsy caravan, mentioning books like The Wind in the Willows and The Boxcar Children, with only an fanciful reference to Narnia (which misses the point, in my opinion). But other chapters are more focused, as "In Quest of Arthur," which traces their disappointments and delights as they look for places of Arthurian legend.

One of my favorite incidents is in this chapter on Arthur. At the ruins of Tintagel's castle, they found a sign posted near the cliff edge by the Ministry of Works that stated, "Parents are requested to discipline their children." You can see why this would be necessary:
But I wonder if the British government still makes such a pointed request for child-discipline more than 50 years later!

If ruined castles don't interest you, how about finding the little crooked house where the little crooked man lived with his crooked cat and crooked mouse that inspired the illustrations of Leslie Brooke (112)? Or maybe you would prefer the street in Gloucester where the tailor lived with Simpkin in Beatrix Potters' The Tailor of Gloucester (21)? They visited with Mrs. Milne, the widow of A. A. Milne, who directed them to the very bridge from which they could play Pooh Sticks just like that stuffed hero (152). And they even included some sites pertinent to adult classics, visiting the Bronte home, where a few of the minuscule stories the three sisters wrote with their brother Branwell are preserved (188). I could share many more fascinating tidbits, but, in short, you simply must read the book!

I have also added to the list of must-read books for myself and for my children. Some that weren't at all familiar to me include Puck of Pook's Hill by Kipling, Popular Romances of the West of England by Robert Hunt, and English Fairy Tales by Jacobs (which, according to the author, assists in the understanding of Shakespeare). When we study English history in a few years, I will definitely try to find Looking at History by R. J. Unstead, The Story of England by Brown and Arbuthnot, and 1066 and All That by Sellar and Yeatman (130).

The only thing that would improve the book would be a detailed map marking the path of their travels and the literary points they discovered. Aside from this omission, the book is well documented, with a good index and a section on Further Reading which includes more recent sources for background on authors, regions, history, etc. I'm very glad my library has this book, and I expect I will be referring to it many times in the course of our educational and reading journey. . . even if we do stay on this side of the pond.

The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White

2009-11-05T15:35:00.008-05:00

This is the second chapter book that I have read aloud to my children, ages 2 & 5, but I must say that they were much more engaged with Charlotte's Web than with The Trumpet of the Swan. By about half way through, my 5-year-old was listening attentively and eager to know what happened next, but the 2-year-old didn't seem to follow the story very well. It seemed more difficult for them to grasp the settings of Canadian wilderness and cities like Boston and Philadelphia than a barnyard. So maybe we will try this one again in a few years.

Louis the swan was born without the ability to trumpet, a disadvantage not only in communicating with his family but also and more importantly in finding a mate. With the help of his friend Sam Beaver, the boy who earned the swan family's trust at their Canadian nesting pond, Louis goes to school and learns to read and write. He can now communicate with people, but not his fellow swans who cannot read. When Louis falls in love (swans mate for life) and can't trumpet his affections to his chosen female, his father, the "old cob," steals a trumpet from a music store. By the time Louis learns to play the trumpet, Serena, the desire of his heart, has flown away. Nevertheless, he has many adventures as he seeks employment to pay back the debt of the stolen trumpet and restore his father's honor.

Aside from my misjudgment on age-appropriateness (for their attention spans, not the content), this is truly a delightful story. It does have a slower pace than Charlotte's Web, and since many of the characters are of the quiet, observant type there is more description and reflection than dialogue. The old cob, Louis's father, is one humorous exception, for he waxes eloquent at any opportunity until his wife wryly reminds him, "We've heard that before..." (186). In many other aspects, however, it shares several common themes with Charlotte's Web. Like Charlotte, the main human character (Sam Beaver) is more at home with nature than people, but also like Charlotte, he is only a supporting character for the main cast of creatures. As with Charlotte, the setting is realistic, the animals are generally in their natural habitat doing animal things, but there is a small element of fantasy that is so seamlessly woven into the story as to make it almost believable (to adults; I'm sure it's completely believable to children).

Eventually, we'll return to E. B. White and read Stuart Little, but for now we are reading something a bit simpler with more fantasy and action: My Father's Dragon and subsequent tales as recommended by Amy at Hope is the Word. In short, we all love it, and it's such a page-turner that I'll be reviewing it soon!

Tess of the D'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy

2009-11-03T21:02:00.002-05:00

Tess of the D'Urbervilles has been on my to-be-read list for a long time, even on my mental list before I had a written one. So I was glad to finally have the motivation to read it for book club.

I came to this novel knowing only bits and pieces of the storyline or Thomas Hardy's style - I knew that it was a "fallen woman" story and that Hardy was a fatalist, and that's about it. I was immediately captured by the vividness of Hardy's prose, which made it easy to read and rendered both landscapes and people in enough detail that one could easily picture the setting and characters.

It is a story of a fallen woman, but Hardy makes every effort to show Tess as the victim, one who always had to bow to the will and whims of the men in her life. To this end, the male characters are shallow, proud, and selfish, while Tess is sweet, kind, hard-working - so good that even her female rivals can't disdain her. Hardy's subtitle "A Pure Woman" caused enough controversy in his day that he regretted adding it, but it does succinctly convey the social commentary that is implicit in the novel: that Tess is a victim of circumstances and remains pure in heart and spirit if not in body.

It is a tragic story, and though I didn't really find it depressing, I wish there had been just a bit of redemption. But Angel Clare, the one man who might have forgiven Tess and loved her unselfishly, had dismissed his faith, particularly the resurrection, as untenable. Having no understanding of redemption himself, he can only think of social principles, i.e. his personal disgrace, when he learns of Tess' unfortunate past. Hardy is at least consistent in presenting his agnostic, vaguely deistic views of a universe ruled by an unkind or maybe even an evil fate, but it leaves one wishing for more.

Tess was a key motif in A Prayer for Owen Meany, another book which dealt with determinism but in a more positive light and with a view towards redemption. Perhaps Tess functioned as a foil and foreshadowing in this modern novel. Usually, I wouldn't expect a modern novel to express more faith than a Victorian novel, but in the comparison of those two novels the loss of faith was more obvious in the book from 1891.

On another note, has anyone seen the newer Masterpiece Theater version of Tess of the d'Urbervilles? I think I will wait a few months to watch it until the book is not so fresh in my mind. I usually enjoy movie adaptations better that way.

Busman's Honeymoon by Dorothy L. Sayers

2009-10-16T20:13:00.007-04:00

Concluding the Lord Peter Wimsey novels with the marriage and honeymoon of Lord Peter and Harriet Vane, Busman's Honeymoon is a delightful combination of romance and detective work. Sayers combines these two usually disparate genres seamlessly and quite successfully. She comments that "It has been said, by myself and others, that a love-interest is only an intrusion upon a detective story. But to the characters involved, the detective-interest might well seem an irritating intrusion upon their love-story." I enjoyed both aspects of the novel, for the love story lends a much more personal view of Lord Peter and Harriet, while the mystery is full of interesting characters, or suspects as the case may be.

Thus, it is inconvenient to the characters, but perhaps not surprising to the readers, that Lord Peter and Harriet find a corpse in the cellar of the house they have purchased in the country where they had hoped to spend a quiet honeymoon away from the press. Such quiet is not to be theirs, however, with a troop of villagers, hired help, detectives, and reporters who all seem to have an opinion to offer, their own sad story to tell, or simply a desire to be a part of the action. Under these circumstances, Peter and Harriet's strengths and weaknesses are both displayed in stark reality, and they learn more about themselves and each other in a few days than they had discovered over the five or six years of their previous acquaintance.

The characters in this novel are exceptional: there is the Superintendent of police who parries literary quotes with Peter and Harriet for several pages (an interchange which will probably leave most 21st century readers thinking they are shamefully uneducated, at least that was my feeling); there is Lord Peter's mother, the Dowager Duchess, who is just delightful and the perfect mother-in-law to Harriet who lost her mother years before; and then there is Bunter, Lord Peter's faithful butler who always seems to know the right thing to do or say no matter the situation, even one as uncertain as having a wife added to the household.

And then the love-interest truly is the heart of the story - what poetry, what beauty, what raw emotion and brutal honesty, what insights into male/female psyches and relations, as these few quotations will show:

On the thought that their wedding night was tarnished by the fact that the corpse had been in the cellar unbeknownst to them, Peter says, "Nothing that you or I have done is any insult to death - unless you think so, Harriet. I should say, if anything could sweeten the atmosphere that wretched old man left behind him, it would be the feeling we - the feeling I have for you, at any rate, and yours for me if you feel like that. I do assure you, so far as I am concerned, there's nothing trivial about it." (122)

"He appeared satisfied, but Harriet cursed herself for a fool. This business of adjusting oneself was not so easy after all. Being preposterously fond of a person didn't prevent one from hurting him unintentionally. She had an uncomfortable feeling that his confidence had been shaken and that this was not the end of the misunderstanding...He wanted you to agree with him intelligently or not at all. And her intelligence did agree with him. It was her own feelings that didn't seem to be quite pulling in double harness with her intelligence." (131-132)

"Peter accepted the tea and drank it in silence. He was still dissatisfied with himself. It was as though he had invited the woman of his choice to sit down with him at the feast of life, only to discover that his table had not been reserved for him. Men, in these mortifying circumstances, commonly find fault with the waiter, grumble at the food and irritably reject every effort to restore pleasantness to the occasion. From the worst exhibitions of injured self-conceit, his good manners were sufficient to restrain him, but the mere fact that he knew himself to be in fault made it all the more difficult for him to recover spontaneity. Harriet watched his inner conflict sympathetically. If both of them had been ten years younger, the situation would have resolved itself in a row, tears and reconciling embraces; bur for them, that path was plainly marked, NO EXIT. There was no help for it; he must get out of his sulks as best he could. Having inflicted her own savage moods upon him for a good five years, she was in no position to feel aggrieved; compared with herself, indeed, he was making a pretty good showing." (190-191)

Other passages are too lengthy to quote here, but it is worth reading this novel if only to contemplate the views of marriage and men and women's roles that are implicit in the story and dialogue. I found the tension between the individual and the unity of marriage as played out by these two highly intelligent characters to be very interesting, see especially pp. 307-308 and 324-325.

Another unique aspect of this novel is that we see the aftermath and how Lord Peter is affected after figuring out whodunit. While most mystery novels close with the pieces falling into place and perhaps the arrest of the criminal, the reader is simply left to assume that justice will be done, and the detective walks away brushing off his hands and thinking of a job well done. Lord Peter, however, is struck with intense remorse over the fact that his skills of deduction will cost a man, even a guilty man, his life. In the short time (four weeks at most) between the arrest, trial, conviction, and execution of a murderer [The British system is far more efficient than the American one], Lord Peter repeatedly visits the prisoner and spends a sleepless night before his execution. Harriet loyally but quietly supports him through his inner agony, waiting for him to share this part of the detective's life with her - a wait that ends with the most beautiful and poignant phrase of the book:

[Peter says], "I hate behaving like this. I tried to stick it out by myself."
"But why should you?" [Harriet replied]...
"It's damnable for you too. I'm sorry, I'd forgotten. That sounds idiotic. But I've always been alone."
"Yes, of course. I'm like that, too. I like to crawl away and hide in a corner."
"Well," he said, with a transitory gleam of himself, "you're my corner and I've come to hide." (400)

Well, I started in the middle and have now finished half of the Lord Peter Wimsey novels. I suppose it's time to go back and start properly at the beginning with Whose Body?.

The Gift of Asher Lev by Chaim Potok

2009-10-07T15:26:00.005-04:00

In The Gift of Asher Lev, Potok brings the reader back to the intricacies and contradictions of Asher Lev's life 18 years after he left Brooklyn for a self-imposed exile in France at the close of My Name is Asher Lev. Asher is now a very successful and well-known artist with a wife and two children, who continues to live with the dichotomy of painting and drawing what is in him for the sake of art while at the same time living as an observant Jew, mindful of Torah and the Rebbe, the leader of the Ladover Hasidic movement.

This is perhaps the most psychological stream-of-consciousness novel that I have read, as the author uses Asher's thoughts, fears, dreams, and visions to convey his current struggles as well as the history of the intervening years and even his wife's memories of World War II. Alongside the nebulous images of Asher's psyche, the traditions and expectations of the Ladover Hasidic community continue to shape the course of his life, even if they feel he has betrayed them with his art. Asher knows he has the Rebbe's blessing to pursue his art, even though his artistic vision brings pain and confusion to the Ladover Jews, but he was not prepared for what the Rebbe asked of him in return. Indeed, the Rebbe's request is posed in riddles and never fully articulated - no one else seems to be aware of how the Rebbe is shaping the future of individual lives and the Ladover movement - but perhaps it is Asher's artistic vision that makes him able to understand the Rebbe's intent and forces him to wrestle with decisions that will forever change the life of his family and children.

This novel was more mystical and introspective than My Name is Asher Lev, but that is to be expected when the protagonist is no longer a child and has years of life experience to reflect upon. It continued the conflict introduced in the first novel and provides a very interesting study of tension between one's gifts or talents and one's beliefs. On the one hand, Asher's artistic talent is a gift from the Master of the Universe, but the Ladover think that he misuses this gift by painting images that do not further the work of God. Asher maintains that this ambiguity is in accord with the way the Master of Universe has ordered the world - it is the only way he can make sense of the senseless things that have shaped the lives of those he loves and the world at large. While Asher wrestled with these issues as an individual in My Name is Asher Lev, in The Gift of Asher Lev he is faced with the implications of his artistic gifts for his family and forced to make a difficult and undesirable choice to try to balance his family's interests with the desires of the Rebbe and with his needs as an artist. Ironically, the decision that seems to be made for the greater good of everyone - himself, his wife and children, his parents, and the Ladover community - leads to a separation that was not unlike what he experienced and resented as a child.

I do not know if the author wanted to convey the message that the sins of the fathers are visited on the children or to emphasize the paradoxes of life: that joy is mixed with pain, that fulfillment entails self-denial, that what is received must be given away. Perhaps both messages are inherent along with many more. Potok's writing is rich with layers of meaning and symbolism, which reflects the mystical life and vision of the Rebbe as well as the Jewish way of discussing many interpretations of a single text. At any rate, it is thought provoking, and I will be adding Chaim Potok's other novels to my to be read list.

Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy L Sayers

2009-10-05T23:12:00.003-04:00

Since my local library did not have Busman's Honeymoon, the fourth and final Lord Peter/Harriet Vane mystery, I had to settle for another Lord Peter mystery that is set sometime during the years he is pursuing Miss Vane. There is only one rather veiled reference to Harriet Vane, however, and it seemed to me that Lord Peter was not quite as much the gentleman in this novel as in the ones where her presence is more pervasive. Nevertheless, the plot in Murder Must Advertise is captivating and witty as I've come to expect from Sayers.

Murder Must Advertise finds Lord Peter using his middle names Death Bredon to pose as a copy-editor in an advertising firm while investigating the strange death of a former employee. In unravelling the mystery he finds a complex web of drug dealing (in 1930's London, lest you think it is only an American problem of later years), blackmail, and murder. Lord Peter is a bit more rakish, a bit less genteel, a bit more unpredictable than I expected from the other three mysteries I have read recently, but it added to the fun of the novel to see these unexpected sides of his character, from dressing as a harlequin with a penny whistle to doing cartwheels down the office corridor. I must admit that I was rather lost during the detailed account of a cricket game, but apart from that the British humor is just delightful!

Sayers accurately and hilariously captures the undercurrents of a typical office with a host of colorful characters who love to chat and gossip in between doing their various jobs. Mixed in with the witty and sometime heated interchanges however, are remarkably astute observations about humanity and subtle (or not so subtle) comments on culture that are still quite accurate 75+ years later. On the morality of advertising, for instance...

"I think this is an awfully immoral job of ours. I do, really. Think how we spoil the digestions of the public."
"Ah, yes, but think how earnestly we strive to put them right again. We undermine 'em with one hand and build 'em up with the other. The vitamins we destroy in the canning, we restore in Revito, the roughage we remove from Peabody's Piper Parritch we make u into a package and market as Bunbury's Breakfast Bran; the stomachs we ruin with Pompayne, we re-line with Peplets to aid digestion. And by forcing the d--n-fool public to pay twice over - once to have its food emasculated and once to have the vitality put back again, we keep the wheels of commerce turning and give employment to thousands - including you and me." (54)

Or on the effectiveness of public education... "Wild 'orses,' declared Ginger [an office boy], finally and completely losing his grasp of the aitches with which a careful nation had endowed him at the expense of the tax-payer..." (106)

As in Gaudy Night, there is a not unfavorable reference to what, with a view of history, we would consider questionable politics when a character states: "What we want in this country is a Mussolini to organize trade conditions." (18) I find it fascinating to read novels from the '30's when history had not made it's judgment upon foreign dictators. It would be interesting to do a study of British or Continental fiction in the '30's and '40's to see how views changed over a decade or so.

As for the mystery itself, I found this puzzle to be easier to solve than the other Lord Peter/Harriet Vane novels I've reviewed recently. Perhaps that is because I'm more accustomed to Sayers' style, or perhaps it simply was more obvious in this book. At any rate, I'm looking forward to reading Busman's Honeymoon soon, since a friend has been so kind as to loan me her copy.

Charlotte's Web by E. B. White

2009-09-25T22:01:00.007-04:00

Having begun homeschooling in earnest this year, we are reading aloud chapter books after lunch every day. Our first selection, which took us 3 weeks to finish, was Charlotte's Web. Even the two-year-old sat quietly (most of the time), for what two-year-old doesn't like barns and animals? Thanks to Grandma, we have the large format "Signature Edition" that is pictured, and I think the larger, color pictures helped to keep the children's interest. Even though there wasn't an illustration on every page, there was at least one or two per chapter, which gave them something to look forward to. The favorite picture was of the "Big Pig," not Uncle, but Mr. Zuckerman's dream about a giant Wilbur the day before taking him to the fair.

E. B. White is an author that I admire. For one, he lived in and loved Maine, and he seems able to capture the wonder and beauty of nature in general as only one who lives close to the land can. This edition of Charlotte's Web contains an Afterward that explains how White came to write children's literature, how he patterned Zuckerman's barn after that on his own farm, and how carefully he crafted the story - which brings me to the second reason I admire E. B. White, namely that he is an expert wordsmith. In my opinion, he often attains an ideal balance between brevity (in narrative and plot) and description (with an abundance of colorful language and carefully chosen words). Of course, that is only to be expected from one of the co-authors of The Elements of Style (THE classic text on writing well).

If you ever go to Maine with children, you must make a trip to the Maine Discovery Museum in Bangor, a children's museum where there is almost a whole floor devoted to children's books by Maine authors, including E. B. White and Robert McCloskey, and books such as Goodnight Moon and Miss Rumphius. As you ascend the stairs to this floor, you are greeted with a larger than life Wilbur, Fern, and Charlotte, bearing the apropos quotation from the closing chapter: "It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer."

Now I must decide what chapter book to read aloud next. Should we continue with E. B. White and read Stuart Little or The Trumpet of the Swan? Or try something like The Wind in the Willows or the Little House on the Prairie Series? Any suggestions for a captive audience, ages two and five?

My Name is Asher Lev by Chaim Potok

2009-09-21T22:08:00.004-04:00

I don't have much time for reading anymore, and I'm debating about whether it is worth taking that precious little time to blog about the books I've read. (I'd rather be reading another Lord Peter Wimsey mystery right now instead of typing, for instance.) But for now, I'll keep blogging and try to keep it short(er) than usual, although brevity is always difficult...

So I didn't make it to the book club discussion for My Name Is Asher Lev, but at least I finally finished it two weeks later. This was my first introduction to Chaim Potok, and I hope to read more of his novels, though I've heard that some of them are very different in character.

My Name is Asher Lev is a coming of age story for a Jewish boy in a very observant Hasidic home. Asher has a rare gift for drawing and painting, and as a result is misunderstood, ridiculed, and shunned at times by his family and religious community in Brooklyn after WWII. Nevertheless, the Rebbe, the head of the Ladover Hasidic group recognizes Asher's talent and encourages him, allowing him to study with another Jewish artist and become a truly great artist himself.

I really liked the way Potok used the title as a structural element to set apart important events and characters in the story. At times, the stream of consciousness narrative seems a little advanced for the age Asher should be, but I suppose the fact that he is a prodigy with artistic vision could account for some of that, not to mention that his home life is rather atypical for a young boy. Asher's mother is certainly not your stereotypical Jewish mother, and her character is developed in a unique way, first as Asher perceives things as a child and then later as he reflects as an adult on the sacrifices and sorrows his mother has endured over the years. When he is compelled, by remaining true to his artistic vision, to express her sorrow in art, he makes a masterpiece for the artistic world, but drives a wedge between himself and his family and community.

The Jewish worldview is not overtly preached in this novel, but one can easily discern some of the more important elements: honor for family and community, refusal to be tainted by the "other side" or the Gentile world, the influence of the Rebbe and other interpretations over the Torah itself, the idea that spiritual work is far more noble than other vocations. I find it interesting to speculate how Asher Lev's artistic gift would have been perceived and fostered in other religious communities. At least in Reformed Protestant theology (though praxis may differ), there is value in all vocations, appreciation for creativity and beauty as reflective of the image of God, and not disparity between the spiritual and temporal.

I hope to read the sequel, The Gift of Asher Lev, in the near future. It sounds like it will also deal with perceived conflicts between faith and calling, which is a tricky topic to explore in any faith tradition.

Gaudy Night by Dorothy Sayers

2009-08-27T21:39:00.005-04:00

Amidst moving and traveling, I finished my third Lord Peter Wimsey Mystery about a week ago. I had about 50 pages to go when Captive Thoughts Book Club met to discuss it, so I got to play 20 questions to figure out whodunit (it only took me about 3 questions!).

I've been pleasantly surprised at the variety of plot and structure in the three Lord Peter mysteries that I have read so far. Gaudy Night seemed to have a slower start than either Strong Poison or Have His Carcase, and the cast of characters at Shrewsbury College of Oxford was long enough to rival the list of Dames in In This House of Brede. This complexity carried over into both the dilemma and the dialogue, as there were many facets to the mystery and much more serious and philosophical topics were discussed than in the other stories.

Most interesting, was the recurring debate over the role and place of women. Unlike today when it's taken for granted that most women will attempt to "have it all" - career, marriage, family - the female dons of Shrewsbury College were almost all single, having chosen the academic life over relationships (in some cases it might be argued that this was a detriment to their relationships with each other). Some even question whether their secretaries and servants should have families, since they were more distracted from their work. Harriet Vane ponders these attitudes and whether the heart and the mind can or should concurrently pursue separate interests as she considers her relationship to and with Lord Peter Wimsey. Needless to say, there is plenty of wit and humor interwoven between the incidents of the college poltergeist (the mystery to be solved) and the sociological and philosophical issues. The whole package simply demonstrates Sayers remarkable ability to craft a story with so many diverse elements.

It was interesting to reflect upon these early feminist ideas after recently reading G. K. Chesterton's chapter on "Feminism, or the Mistake about Woman" in What's Wrong With The World. Chesterton argues that a woman is designed to be jack-of-all-trades, balancing multiple responsibilities, and not necessarily perfecting any of them, i. e. specializing in none. Writing early in the 20th century, Chesterton seems to assume that the woman's place, or at least the place where she will flourish best and contribute most to the well-being of society, is in the home. Just a few decades later (mid-30's), the women dons of Shrewsbury express the exact opposite: "...if there's any subject in which you're content with the second-rate, then it isn't really your subject" (190). In other words, as women entered the academic world they became specialists and perfectionists and reveled in it.

I can certainly identify since I've been a perfectionist since elementary school and I would enjoy being a professional student if circumstances would allow (they most decidedly don't, and I'm content with that). At the same time, I can understand and identify with Chesterton's position as well. As a homemaker, I have very little time to perfect anything since my attention must necessarily be divided by so many things. In fact, I don't think I have the brain power to sort out these various arguments and inspect them by the light of Scripture right now (maybe someday). But my preliminary thoughts (based largely upon experience) are that perhaps the dons of Shrewsbury were more right, practically speaking, than Chesterton or today's cultural expectations: if a woman is intellectually or otherwise gifted, then it is probably best for her to remain single and develop those talents with a single focus without being pulled in many directions as necessarily comes with a husband and children. They accepted the fact that theirs was a generally lonely and isolated life, and that was the price they paid for pursuing academics. This seems to me a more well-reasoned and responsible choice to take the implications of an academic career upon oneself by denying oneself intimate relationships (assuming one lives morally) than to inflict the implications of one's career upon one's husband and children. This is not to say that only dumb women should marry and have children, but that all women should seriously consider that they cannot "have it all" and make a deliberate choice between two options. All right, I've opened a big can of worms here - any comments? ( :

I am very interested to read more of Dorothy Sayers' life and especially her theological works. She came to faith later in life, I believe, so she made many of the choices which directed the course of her life apart from the counsel of Scripture and a life of faith. I wonder how many of the views on women expressed in Gaudy Night are her own and if she held those same views throughout life. I hope to read a biography by David Coomes, Dorothy L. Sayers: A Careless Rage for Life, who describes her as "a champion of absolute standards, but ... no less a champion of those who fall short of the ideal...when she spoke out so vehemently on moral and doctrinal issues ... it was as someone who had fallen and suffered and was desperate to warn others of the self-inflicted punishment lying in wait for the unwary."

On a historical note, I found it very interesting that this book was written in 1936, and hence there was a favorable reference to Hitler by a minor character (p. 126). It's amazing what a little perspective on history can do!