Catching Up Again: February 2013 Reading

Farm memoirs were the order of the day for February. I'm always hopeful that reading about gardening or farming will inspire me to be a bit more enthusiastic about outdoor endeavors, but alas, it does not seem to help. I like doing stuff with produce, but I don't like the process of getting it to my kitchen. Digging in the dirt does not satisfy something deep within me - it just dries out my hands, and makes me dirty, sweaty, and grumpy, to be perfectly honest.

Well, the farm memoirs I read were at least honest - no glossing over the dirt, sweat, and tears, and no idyllic vision of a simpler life as one might conclude from reading Laddie. Whether it was the hobby farm of Michael Perry or the all-inclusive, self-sustaining project of Essex Farm, the message was clear that work - hard, physical labor - is involved in any farming venture. And I was quite happy to be reading about it from the comfort of my couch and cozy, down blanket in February, when at least I didn't have to feel guilty for not pulling weeds!

Well, I should stop rambling and making excuses for my laziness and tell you about the books, which aside from the barn, chickens, and author's picture on the cover, are really quite different.

I really wasn't sure I would finish Coop: A Year of Poultry, Pigs, and Parenting, but various things kept stringing me along - a home birth story (told from a man's perspective, so not that interesting), an impromptu visit to our local Children's Museum with no other reading options, the death of the author's nephew, with which I empathized having had two friends lose babies last year. But all told, I didn't like the author's rambling style in writing or homesteading. Carrie had a different opinion when she reviewed it a few years ago, but I didn't quite see the model of manhood that she did. I appreciate that the author is honest with his shortcomings as a husband, father, and provider, but it came off more as false humility than true repentance, and I'm not sure that's a model worth emulating. (Sorry, Carrie - we usually see eye to eye on a lot of things, but not this one. I hope we can still be friends!)

I wasn't sure I would like The Dirty Life: A Memoir of Farming, Food, and Love either, but I turned out to be pleasantly surprised. I liked the author's writing style, and it was fascinating to hear of all that she and her fiance experienced in a year of making a rundown, neglected piece of land in upstate New York a productive farm and a home. While I didn't agree with some of the moral choices she made on her way to the altar, she didn't glory in them or present them in lurid detail. As I mentioned before, it was mostly about hard, physical work, with love and humor on the side, all giving the impression of a very full and satisfying life. If I lived near Essex, I might consider becoming a part of their CSA - it would be worth it for someone else to dig in the dirt!

Our read-aloud time somehow slipped away in February, but we did enjoy the second in Douglas Wilson's Maritime series: Susan Creek. As I mentioned before, I plan to discuss the whole series after we finish reading the third one, but for now, I'll just say that both my kids really liked Susan Creek, and I really like the values, history, and theology that are incorporated so seamlessly in a good story. Thank you, Doug Wilson!

Books Read in May

Three Men and a Maid by P. G. Wodehouse
After Brideshead Revisited, I needed something lighter, and though I didn't finish in time to join Carrie's book club for the month of April, Wodehouse was just the antidote needed. Three Men and a Maid seems at first like your classic love triangle, but wait, it's a quadrangle with overlapping story lines, bumbling idiots (at least when it comes to love) and just the kind of British wit and irony to make it fun and funny! I'll definitely be reading more of Wodehouse in the future.

Growing up Amish by Ira Wagler
I think this selection, too, was something of a knee-jerk reaction to Brideshead, though in some respects the wild living while coming of age theme is similar. Ira Wagler relates his struggles with the constraints of the Old Order Amish and the family ties that keep pulling him back. But more than a coming of age story, I think it is a conversion story, a story of God's preservation of a young man who eventually finds grace and salvation in Christ instead of the social and moral standards of a church. Though I didn't particularly like his writing style - sentence fragments really annoy me - it was both an interesting and encouraging book.

The Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey
I love mysteries, and it's always fun to find a new author who can weave a complex plot. Solving a mystery from a hospital bed doesn't sound too exciting, but if the mystery involves the infamous King Richard III and the Princes in the Tower, a convalescing Inspector Grant is just your man. The history books all seem to agree that the power-hungry Richard III had his nephews murdered to secure the throne, but when Inspector Grant begins to study a portrait of Richard and delve into the historical records of the period, the conclusions of history just don't seem to add up. British Royalty is confusing, and even with frequent references to the family trees included at the beginning of the book, I'm not sure I could explain exactly who is related to whom or how the throne passes from one generation to another. But the historical information in this book is just fascinating, and Tey presents it in such a way that one really feels the excitement of discovery just as the characters do. I also appreciated her subtle social commentaries such as this description of a convicted criminal unrelated to the historical research: "Been treated soft all his life since he started stealing change from his Ma at the age of nine. A good belting at the age of twelve might have saved his life. Now he'll hang before the almond blossoms' out" (193). I hope to read more Inspector Grant mysteries to see if his handling of contemporary crimes is just as intriguing as historical ones.

Read alouds: We have several in progress (Big John's Secret & The Beggars' Bible), but somehow we didn't finish anything in May. I'm not sure how that happened other than we now have two kittens who allure my children outside, and later sunsets mean it's often too late for stories when they finally come inside. Stay tuned for read-aloud updates next month.

April Reading...before May is all done

Time flies, and it seemed to go especially quickly in April. Nevertheless, reading continues even on busy days, so here's the monthly recap:

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh
I can't recall ever reading a fictional book that I enjoyed less, and I wasn't alone in that opinion, as everyone in my book club seemed to agree. Perhaps more die-hard Anglophiles might have found something to love in it, but I thought all the characters were deplorable narcissists - truly the biggest bunch of navel-gazers ever collected between the covers of a book! Just as the book of Judges is depressing because everyone did what was right in their own eyes, so this story is very depressing because vice and vanity are relentlessly pursued in an elusive search for happiness. With that said, however, Waugh did capture the essence of sin in the most succinct and raw fashion that I have read in a novel (at least as far as my memory serves). I'll quote it here so that you have the benefit of reflecting on its accuracy, and perhaps searching your heart to see if you have pet sins of which you should repent, and you can thank me for saving you the tedium of reading the book:

     "'Living in sin, with sin, by sin, for sin, every hour, every day, year in, year out. Waking up with sin in the morning, seeing the curtains drawn on sin, bathing it, dressing it, clipping diamonds to it, feeding it, showing it round, giving it a good time, putting it to sleep at night with a tablet of Dial if it's fretful.
     'Always the same, like an idiot child carefully nursed, guarded from the world. "Poor Julia," they say, "she can't go out. She's got to take care of her little sin. A pity it ever lived," they say, "but it's so strong. Children like that always are. Julia's so good to her little, mad sin."'" (287)

Now, that's not a pretty description, nor an encouraging one, but it certainly provides much to ponder, and if it leads to repentance, then my reading of this book was not in vain.

Choosing to SEE: A Journey of Struggle and Hopeby Mary Beth Chapman
I needed something real to counter the unreality of Brideshead Revisited (although a friend reminded me that such an empty life was/is a reality for some, which is a sobering thought). I had known of the Chapman's loss of one of their adopted daughters several years ago, but didn't really know much of the story. Mary Beth Chapman writes with honesty of the fears and struggles that she has experienced throughout her life of faith, with the greatest of these being the loss of 5-year-old Maria in 2008. I used the word "raw" for the description of sin above, and it applies here, too, though the contexts are so very different. The death of a child can shake one's faith to the core, and Mary Beth writes openly of her doubts, anger, and disbelief, and of her faith, security, and hope in God and the promise of heaven. It's an emotional story, but an encouraging one, a truthful one that depicts death as the enemy, Christ as the victor, and heaven as our home and hope.

 Dangerous Journey: The Story of Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan and Oliver Hunkin
It's been a while since I've read Pilgrim's Progress, but this is an excellent children's version which retains both the language and the lessons of the original. My kids enjoyed this book, and I've already used its allegories to remind them of "fighting Apollyon" when they are having a difficult time with self-control. All too often, sin seems to be glossed over and excused rather than exposed and resisted. So while I will readily admit that all allegories have their shortcomings, I'm grateful for this tool to help my children understand some aspects of the Christian walk.

The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien
I can't take credit for reading this one aloud, but I did listen while my husband, an original Tolkien fan (yes, before there were movies!), read this to our kids, ages 5 and 8. This was required reading before the Hobbit movie is released in December, but aside from the much-anticipated movie, it was delightful to share Middle Earth and Tolkien's wonderful story-telling with my family. So after you've enjoyed My Father's Dragon  (linked to my review) with your young readers, be sure to introduce them to Smaug (a not-so-nice dragon) and Bilbo Baggins!

See, this is how much of a Tolkien fan my husband is. These are bookcases that he built for our office/library a few years ago. Pretty cool, huh?

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

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.

A Girl Named Zippy by Haven Kimmel

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).

Girl Meets God: A Memoir by Lauren F. Winner

Life happens, and it's been happening in a big way around here, so I haven't been reading as much or as quickly as I would wish. But I don't really regret having taken my time reading Girl Meets God because it is a book that is best pondered and savored.

Lauren Winner came to faith in Christ after being raised in a Reformed Jewish synagogue and then converting to Orthodox Judaism because "[n]o other way to parse Judaism made much sense. If the Torah was true, then we should spend all our time reading it, and all our life living by it" (43). But within a few years, she became captivated by the incarnation, awestruck by the fact that God became flesh, and converted to Christianity, specifically of the Anglican/Episcopalian variety. Interestingly enough, I started thinking that Lauren's writing style reminded me of Madeleine L'Engle's Crosswick Journals, and in the very next chapter, Lauren revealed that she attends the same Episcopal church in NYC that L'Engle did.

I can identify with many aspects of Lauren's personality - her bookishness, her dislike of recess, her love for study and complete immersion in a topic - but her spiritual journey is completely different from my experience. Even though I'm not in the same place and don't agree with her on some points, I'm really glad to have read of her experiences and the insights on faith and theology that she draws from such a unique background.

Lauren juxtaposes the Jewish and Christian calendars to create the structure of the memoir, and this allows her to trace her journeys in each faith as well as compare and contrast elements of these two biblical faiths. For instance, she links the Jewish high holy day of Yom Kippur with the Christian practice of confession of sins. On Yom Kippur the Jews confess a long list of sins, of which the particulars they may not be guilty, but which a rabbi enjoins, "If you understood the glory and grandeur of God, you would realize you had committed each of these sins, every day of your life." Thus, as a Christian, Lauren concludes:

Confession makes sense to me because it is incarnational. In the sacraments, the Holy Spirit uses stuff to sanctify us. In the Eucharist He uses bead and wine, and in confirmation He uses oil and in baptism He uses water. In confession, the stuff He uses is another person. In that way, confession teaches us about the Incarnation all over again. . .Here, in confession, God is connecting us to Himself not through bread or oil or water or wine, but through another broken body, one who absolves you, and then says, "Go in peace, and pray for me, a sinner." (214-215)

As an intellectual and a historian, Lauren is at once more modern and more grounded in tradition than your typical evangelical. There is a subtle undercurrent of feminism that runs throughout her story (both ethically and vocationally), and she makes an aside comment in favor of Darwin (105). In that sense, perhaps her adoption of evangelical theology has not entirely encompassed her worldview, in spite of her intent to be logically consistent.

Her brief historical description of tattoos (154-155) as used by Christian pilgrims to mark their identity with Christ (Galatians 6), made me almost ready to go get one. But then her account of a holocaust survivor's tattoo shocked me back to a stark, unromantic reality. It is this thorough understanding of her Jewish heritage and her Christian adoption that that can jolt us evangelicals out of our complacency and primly pious attitudes. In describing celebrating the Passover seder as a Christian, she reflects:

We see in the three pieces of matzot the Trinity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and see that we are taking the middle matzah, and breaking it, and we see that this is the way Jesus' body will break, on the Cross. . .I think, It is we Christians, we, who do this, not the Jews. At the seder, it is so clear: The Jews didn't break his body. Our sins broke his body. Break break break. They didn't kill Him; the weight of our sin killed Him. (172 - This is the spiritual truth, of course, but we cannot ignore the mystery of God's sovereignty and human responsibility described in Acts 2:23)

Finally, I was challenged by the seriousness and sincerity with which she pursues God. She humbles herself not only in the practice of confession, but also by following her priest's counsel to give up reading, yes, reading as a whole, not just certain books, for Lent, because, he said, "I think books would be a gift you could give Christ that would be really meaningful. . ." (124). She does it, not perfectly, but she gives up reading for Lent and learns that reading was her "always-cure. . .a tonic or escape route" (128). She realizes that "[w]hen I am stuck in a puddle of sadness and mistakes, I cannot take them to Mitford. I have to take them to God. I begin to suspect that [my priest] didn't want me to give up reading just because it was the equivalent of some dearly loved green sundress, but because it might move me closer to Jesus. It might move me to my knees" (129). That is profound, powerful, and convicting, especially for a fellow bibliophile!