books...

Watership Down by Richard Adams (book club, re-read) - I read this long long ago, and I remember loving it.  Part Odyssean epic, part fairytale-folk-lore (rabbit version, of course), part social commentary, part Arthurian quest, and fully nonstop adventure story.  My very favorite part this time through was the chapter epigraphs, some of which I was more familiar with this time around; and the ones I wasn't familiar with I was able to conveniently get the background from the good (if slightly irreverent) people at Schmoop.  These epigraphs are genius clever intros (and spoilers!) to each chapter.   Leadership, friendship, teamwork, power, pitfalls of pride, freedom vs safety, the nature of home, man vs nature, nature vs nature, thinking/planning/brainstorming outside the box, bravery, sacrifice, overcoming fear, building and preparing for the future ... all themes/threads/philosophies addressed within this story.  It's a worthwhile read.  But.  I didn't love it this second time as much as I did 20 years ago.  In fact, honestly, it was a bit of a hard slog, broken up with copious skimming.

The Rosie Effect by Graeme Simsion - this is a total put-yourself-in-someone-else's-shoes and see-the-world-thru-his-eyes/mind kind of book.  The words "autism" and "aspergers" are thrown about in both this book and its prequel, The Rosie Project, though Don Tillman, the main character (in whose shoes we're metaphorically walking) is never overtly identified as being on the spectrum (tho the author clearly wants us to believe he's there).  But we DO KNOW that Don is not exactly "normal".  We know that he always means well, has good intentions, tends to be very literal, takes science very seriously, and is not capable of clearly understanding social or emotional cues.  I very much enjoyed The Rosie Project, and I think I value The Rosie Effect even more highly.  It tugged at my heartstrings.  The stakes for Don figuring things out were so much higher in this book than the former.  His few friends are a motley crew.  They (mostly Gene) are at once, both worse and better than you expect them to be.  But they have Don's back; and when he can't find his way, they shed light in meaningful ways.  Good book.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James - In a word: Enigmatic. Second word: Ambiguous.  Third word?: Claustrophobic.  Henry James, I do believe you mean to mess with us, your readers.  I know I was kinda clueless when reading Maisie, but I thought it was my fault.  This time, in Screw, I was reading pretty carefully (took me several days even though this story is not even 100pp), and I was still clueless; and I'm pretty sure that you, Henry, carefully crafted this story very precisely & definitively to leave me baffled and questioning.  Is this a spin on the Liar-Lord-Lunatic theory? Is my governess-narrator essentially well-meaning, good, and trustworthy?  Is she maleficent?  Is she a madwoman, not right in her head?  Can I trust her interpretation?  One of the first narrators [who frames the story], did. But with no character to corroborate the governess's version of "reality", I do believe that Henry James intends to lead me only to a "maybe" answer.  Frustrating for me, the reader.  Kinda genius of HJ, the writer.  I really appreciated this literary review from The New Yorker (spoilers abound - save for after you read Screw).

Wise Blood by Flannery O'Connor - oh my.  this is such a dark, strange, twisted story.  Probably a story better read with a group of people who are all ready to dig in deep and discuss.  In fact, I'm doing my best to plunder the riches of the internets to jimmy-rig together a discussion of sorts for myself and for my greater understanding.  Because this book is truly confusing, even though it IS CLEARLY about sin and redemption ... or attempting, albeit unsuccessfully, to run from the reality of both.  A quote from Flannery herself:  "… it is entirely redemption-centred in thought. Not too many people are willing to see this, and perhaps it is hard to see, because Hazel Motes [main character] is such an admirable nihilist. His nihilism leads him back to the fact of his redemption, however, which is what he would have liked so much to get away from."  O'Connor was dismissive of being characterized as a Southern Gothic writer, and yet Wise Blood seems to me to be the very epitome of Southern Gothic: grim, grotesque, peopled with emotionally unstable or delusional characters, darkly humorous.  But all these things are tightly wrapped around a theme of the nature of redemption.  In the introduction to the 10th anniversary publication of Wise Blood [1962], O'Connor states that the book is about freedom, free will, life and death, and the inevitability of belief:  "It is a comic novel about a Christian malgré lui, and as such, very serious, for all comic novels that are any good must be about matters of life and death. Wise Blood was written by an author congenitally innocent of theory, but one with certain preoccupations. That belief in Christ is to some a matter of life and death has been a stumbling block for some readers who would prefer to think it a matter of no great consequence. For them, Hazel Motes's integrity lies in his trying with such vigor to get rid of the ragged figure who moves from tree to tree in the back of his mind. For the author, Hazel's integrity lies in his not being able to do so. Does one's integrity ever lie in what he is not able to do? I think that usually it does, for free will does not mean one will, but many wills conflicting in one man. Freedom cannot be conceived simply. It is a mystery and one which a novel, even a comic novel, can only be asked to deepen."
A couple links that contributed to my "discussion" and gave me greater understanding:
1.  Guardian Reading Group
2.  Series of Lectures at Yale (1st one here)
3.  Interesting essay comparing/contrasting John Huston's film adaptation vs. the novel - with the essayist concluding that the difference in interpretation "confirms O’Connor’s sense of the significance of belief."
4.  Excellent summary and commentary from a Catholic perspective


Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain (book club, re-read) - Little Dude and I read this concurrently.  I probably first read it when I was his age.  As a kid, I loved it.  As an adult, I liked it.  The first person narrative in Huck Finn 14yo vernacular is brilliant - like the very best actor using an accent and never dropping it for even one moment.  It's deservedly lauded as one of America's first great novels (alongside Moby Dick & Scarlet Letter).  I enjoyed this bit of background from the Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History:  Ernest Hemingway was right when he announced that all modern American literature comes from Huckleberry Finn. Although many previous novels had included dialect (including Uncle Tom’s Cabin), Huckleberry Finn is the first major novel in which the narrator speaks in dialect. Unlike earlier works of fiction in which the narrator speaks in refined language and tells uplifting and ennobling stories, Twain’s narrator speaks in a distinctly natural American voice... which is significant because Twain is showing that moral authority can come from a representative of “poor white trash,” and a juvenile delinquent at that, which was, at the time, something new in American culture. This is what prompted Louisa May Alcott to condemn the novel: “If Mr. Clemens cannot think of something better to tell our pure-minded lads and lasses, he’d best stop writing for them.”  I enjoyed this lecture by Daniel Sundahl at Hillsdale College.

P@per T0wns by J. Green (picked off the YMCA borrow shelves*) - how to explain the depths of my loathing for this book?  I feel like it had a good skeleton of an idea for a story, with a few brilliant one-liners, that got buried and delivered in a heaping pile of stinky, steaming poop.  So much badness.  I will likely never read another JG novel.

Shanghai Girls by Lisa See (picked off the YMCA borrow shelves) - historical fiction. Historical fiction.  Historical FICTION.  I usually have some hangups about historical fiction, and this novel didn't escape my knee-jerk reactions.  I don't really often read non-fiction.  Thus, a goodly chunk of my present exposure to stories of history comes thru fiction.  But when I read historical fiction, I always have in the back of my mind that real stuff is bumping into and merging with pretend stuff.  So the more heavy-handed, implausible, and drama-filled the fiction side is, the more I question the reality of the history being presented to me, and the less I empathize with the pretend characters.  A double whammy bummer effect.  The fiction side of Shanghai Girls was pretty over the top.  It felt very manipulated to get as much "history" as possible into the story.  The result?  I ended up valuing the novel less, empathizing with Chinese immigrants to a lesser degree than I might otherwise have, and questioning elements of the history.  Oh, and the ending?  Abrupt.  I don't know if it was a deliberate set-up for a sequel, or if I'm to embrace it with a Scarlett-tomorrow-is-another-day proclamation and know that Pearl's Dragon and Joy's Tiger identities will pull them through anything.


The Scent of Rain and Lightning by Nancy Pickard (picked off the YMCA borrow shelves*) - this was great, good, bad, & otherwise.   the great:  this quote in the very beginning "Therefore - the past having proved to her the unreliability of the present - happiness made Jody anxious.", explaining how a family trauma in very young years continued to dictate the protagonist's life.   the good: it was an interesting page-turner "in medias res" whodunnit. I cared about the characters.  I wanted to know what happened badly enough that I blew off my gym class to read instead.  the bad: the ending, the unraveling of the mystery lacked plausibility, didn't satisfy me, in fact, made me feel ripped off after I'd invested time in this story.  I will fully admit, I like my crime fiction to be old-school (plausibility be damned), with "good guys" redeemed and "bad guys" being served justice.  This story's ending was just morally messy all the way around.


You are Here by Jennifer Smith (picked off the YMCA borrow shelves*) - modern, fluffy YA story that ... drumroll please ... I liked.  Even though it was impossible for me to entirely remove my "parent-goggles" and approve a story with two almost 17yos borrowing-borderline-stealing cars and leaving home without informing parents for a spontaneous long-distance roadtrip, I did indeed thoroughly enjoy this book.  Kudos to Jennifer Smith (who, I'm going to go out on a limb here, and guess, is NOT a parent of teens) who wrote a very sweet story with believable, likable, fallible, well-intentioned characters.

True Grit by Charles Portis - I read this at the same time as Huck Finn. So many parallels, not least of which is the 14yo first-person-using-regional-vernacular narrative. It's so good, so dry wit funny.  And the Coen Brothers' movie rendering?  Simply brilliant.  Read the book, see the movie.  Or maybe, see the movie and then read the book (because then you can picture the sprawling gorgeous landscapes as you read).  Mattie Ross is the true equivalent of Grit.



*I label these as such because it sort of explains the totally random way by which I come by these particular books that I might not otherwise ever read)

Oh, hey, it’s The Oh Hellos…

After wandering thru Warhol-ville, we picked up College Kid at his workplace (library) and headed down to all the Spring Concert festivities.

The dudes were pretty stoked to see the Postcards food truck.  We saw them on the Great Food Truck Race.  And just like on the show, we couldn’t buy anything from them at opening time, because they weren’t open yet.  Hey, it takes time to create good soul flavor!!

After Little Dude’s tummy was filled with good eats, he graciously agreed to ride the ferris wheel with me.

It was a pretty spectacular view all the way around.  Little Dude was totally white-knuckling that bar, tho.

Us the Duo? … they were pretty much completely darling.

And The Oh Hellos? … THEY WERE FABULOUS!

Neato day.

Andy Warhol

Few people on are the fence in their regard – or disregard – for Andy Warhol.  But whether you love his art, loathe his art, or are lackluster about his art, the fact remains that he is arguably America’s best-known artist and [also arguably] considered to be one of the two most influential artists, along with Picasso, of the 20th century.  Those are pretty big claims.  Pepperdine’s Weisman Museum currently has an exhibit of his work, so we braved the stoopid LA traffic …

This particular article breaks down some of the reasons why Warhol matters.  I appreciated this quote that expands on the idea that Warhol’s oeuvre is a significant documentation of the history of the second half of the twentieth century:

“Warhol’s art is itself like a March of Time newsreel, an abbreviated visual anthology of the most conspicuous headlines, personalities, mythic creatures, edibles, tragedies, artworks, even ecological problems of recent decades. If nothing were to remain of the years from 1962 to 1987 but a Warhol retrospective, future historians and archaeologists would have a fuller time capsule to work with than that offered by any other artist of the period. With infinitely more speed and wallop than a complete run of the New York Times on microfilm, or even twenty-five leather bound years of Time magazine (for which he did several covers), Warhol’s work provides an instantly intelligible chronicle of what mattered most to people, from the suicide of Marilyn Monroe to the ascendancy of Red China, as well as endless grist for the mills of cultural speculation about issues ranging from post-Hiroshima attitudes towards death and disaster to the accelerating threat of mechanized, multiple-image reproduction to our still-clinging, old-fashioned faith (both commercial and aesthetic) in handmade, unique originals.” ~Robert Rosenblum, art historian

“"Being good in business is the most fascinating kind of art," Andy Warhol famously said. "Making money is art and working is art and good business is the best art."  Some people applaud his capitalistic focus and others condemn his art as mere commercialism.  Good article discussing this dichotomy.

I enjoyed the exhibit.  Other Kellers were perhaps a little less (or a LOT less) enthusiastic.  But we all unanimously agreed that what followed – time with College Kid, food trucks, and concerts by Wilson Howard (student) and Us the Duo and The Oh Hellos – was pretty fantastic.

The Cross. Jesus. New Life.

INTIMACY BEFORE AGONY
… ”Over the course of three years, the disciples had heard Jesus teach on a variety of subjects, including love. But Jesus never spoke of love the way he did the night before he went to the cross (once Judas had left). He mentioned “love” more than thirty times that night — the Father’s love for him, his love for the Father, even the world’s brand of love. Yet, I imagine what rang, especially in the disciples’ hearts, were his words about love concerning those present among them.
Jesus made love personal, saying, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another” (John 13:34). Amid bickering and betrayal, relationship moved front and center. The disciples were about to experience sorrow they’d never known. They were about to be tested as never before. They needed one another. They needed to love one another. And their love would serve as a witness to a watching world that they were his disciples (John 13:35).
But once again, Jesus was not merely teaching. He was expressing the love he felt for them. “ . . . as I have loved you . . . ” No doubt, they knew that Jesus loved them. But this is the first time, as recorded in the Gospels, that Jesus openly expressed it. And he didn’t say it just once.

• “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Abide in my love.” (John 15:9)
• “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.” (John 15:12)

What a comfort to hearts filling with sorrow as Jesus spoke of leaving. Though he would be physically gone and though they couldn’t follow him, they could abide in his love.
And then he said this: “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you” (John 15:13–14).”  … Kim Cash Tate

THE CROSS
“We often hear the phrase, “the crux of the matter” or “the crux of a situation.” The word “crux” comes from Medieval Latin, and simply means cross. Why has the word “crux” come to be associated with a critical juncture or point in time? Because the Cross of Christ is truly the crux of history. Without the Cross, history itself cannot be defined or corrected.
There is another word we often hear when we are in the throes of indescribable pain, the word, “excruciating.” That, too, derives from the Latin and means “out of the cross.” Across time and human experience, the historical event of the Cross intersects time and space and speaks to the deepest hurts of the human heart.
But we live with more than pain and suffering. We also live with deep hungers within the human heart, such as the hunger for truth, for justice, forgiveness, and peace. As I see it, there is only one place in the world where these hungers converge: it is in the Cross of Christ, where perfect peace and perfect justice became united in one death on a Friday afternoon.”  … Ravi Zacharias

BEAUTY FROM ASHES
”I keep seeing this image. It’s of the disciples, and Jesus’s mother, Mary, weeping at the foot of the cross. They are huddled together, trying to comfort each other. Trying to make sense of all that has happened. But it just doesn’t make sense.
‘The sky is black. All hope looks lost. Their dreams have died. It seems that nothing good will ever come from this.
‘To them, this day, Good Friday, is the darkest day they’ve ever known.
‘But the one thing that they do not know is . . . Easter is coming.’” … Vaneetha Rendall Risner
 

"IN SPITE OF THAT, WE CALL THIS FRIDAY GOOD" ~ T.S. Eliot in East Coker
"I'm trying not to skip ahead to Easter. I'm trying, these two days, to sit in the grace of the stripped altar and enter imaginatively into the place of the disciples [and Jesus's mother], who only knew that their Lord had died, not that he would rise again.  Flannery O'Connor's stories are a help in that regard. Her characters suffer and boast and finagle their way through a broken world, unaware that grace is streaking silently toward them like a meteor that will throw everything off balance." ... Jonathan Rogers


AT WORK IN THE DARK
“Jesus was dead and buried, with a big stone rolled against the tomb, and the Pharisees came to Pilate to ask for permission to seal the stone and guard the tomb. Pilate responded, “You have a guard of soldiers. Go, make it as secure as you can” (Matthew 27:65). So they did.
They gave it their best shot — in vain.
It was hopeless then, it is hopeless today, and it will always be hopeless. Try as they may, people can’t keep Jesus down. They can’t keep him buried. They may use physical force or academic scorn or media blackout or political harassment or religious caricature. For a season, they will think the tomb is finally sealed. But it never works. He breaks out.
It’s not hard to figure out: He can break out because he wasn’t forced in. He lets himself be libeled and harassed and black-balled and scorned and shoved around and killed.

I lay down my life that I may take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again. (John 10:17–18)

No one can keep him down because no one ever knocked him down. He lay down when he was ready.
China may have been “closed” for forty years to Western missionaries, and it’s not because Jesus slipped and fell into the tomb. He stepped in. And when it was sealed over, he saved fifty million Chinese from inside — without Western missionaries. And when it was time, he pushed the stone away so we could see what he had done. …

For twenty centuries, the world has given it their best shot — in vain. They can’t bury him. They can’t hold him in. They can’t silence him or limit him.
Jesus is alive and utterly free to go and come wherever he pleases. “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18). All things were made through him and for him, and he is absolutely supreme over all other powers (Colossians 1:16–17).”  … John Piper
 
LO, I AM WITH YOU ALWAYS, EVEN TO THE END OF THE AGE
… ”But the old creation is to limp along a little longer, while they believe that the new creation is already here and walk by faith. They must not doubt though their mortal eyes cannot apprehend this new creation. By faith they must participate in it. They must live in the faith that the curse has already been repealed. That death itself has already been conquered. That though they go down to the grave - that this means nothing.
But they shall be raised again in glory - like their saviour. And their eyes shall see him and not another. Even as their outward man - which still partakes of the old world - is passing away, they must understand that the inner man now partakes of the glory and the power of the resurrected Christ. And is being renewed daily in this new creation. And one day, though their outward man has gone down to the dust, yet he shall come up again as well. Christ is the firstfruits of that great harvest.
So Jesus gives them an assurance, though he does not appear in the eyes of the world as a king, yet all authority, all power—in heaven and on earth—has been given to him. Though they do not see him sitting on his judgment throne condemning those who crucified him—though they do not see him with a visible crown or a visible kingdom—still he tells them, ‘I have all authority and power. My reign begins now. My kingdom is here.’" … The Whole Story as preached by Bill Baldwin