Friday, July 31, 2020

July 2020 Bracket

July Book Bracket


I got off to a slow start this time, failing to read a book through completely until almost a week into the month. There are fewer books this month, but some of them were real gems.



Book Descriptions, Why I Picked Them, and My Impressions

The Woman Who Was Chesterton, by Nancy Carpenter Brown

This recently-written book (2015) takes a look at the life of Frances Chesterton, wife of prolific writer and Catholic convert G. K. Chesterton.

Why I picked it up: I think one of my friends mentioned she had read this book, so her comment placed this work on my radar. I walked into my favorite local bookstore a month or two back and walked out with a used copy.

My impressions: I liked this biography very much. I have sometimes found biographies attempted in the past to be too dense and dull to push through, but this book was not one of those. The biographer quoted many works and personal letters at length, with may have made reading a little clunky at times, but I felt Brown never lost sight of the story of Frances' life. I was invested enough in the subject that I found myself crying during the chapters that detailed the death of G. K., Frances' grief, and Frances' own passing (however, I should note that I seem to be easily moved to tears lately - I'm not sure why). The couple had trials in their marriage, but I was touched by their incredible love and their devotion to each other. Brown noted that much remains unknown about Frances' life due to numerous letters that were likely burned and her own proclivity for avoiding the spotlight, but I was quite impressed with the numerous sources the author did find and employ. Unlike the Tolkien biographer, I noticed that Brown did draw some conclusions about her subject's character, particularly when she noted that Frances' struggles with infertility might have made her bitter, but she adopted an attitude of self-sacrificial love instead. While I don't disagree with Brown, I did find the difference between the two biographies worth noting (which leads me to wonder what is typical for biographies, but that is a consideration for another day). I found Frances' life of ordinary, everyday trials relatable and her example in those circumstances inspiring. It reminded me of the "Little Way" of holiness described by St. Therese of Lisieux. A few weaknesses came through in the book, but they did not significantly harm my appreciation of the book. These weaknesses include an overwhelming use of footnotes at times and the looming presence of a swaggering, exaggerating sister-in-law that drew focus from Frances at times. The book is published by the American Chesterton Society, so I think some positive bias is likely present, although it is not immediately evident, if there. I could say much more on this book, but this paragraph is already too long. A final note would be that I think of the list of Frances' publications at the end of the book as an exciting perk - I hope to look up her children's plays and Christmas hymns around Advent as a foray into "liturgical living". I'd recommend this book to anyone who is a fan of GKC, especially if they want to know what sort of woman was able to guide and support such a childlike man. Warning: if talking about people who have committed suicide is distressing, it might help to know that Frances' brother did so; this is brought up several times throughout the book because it is discussed as having been a sort of impediment to her joining the Catholic Church for a time (the brother had converted to Catholicism himself shortly before his death).

The Middle Ages: Everyday Life in Medieval Europe, by Jeffrey L. Singman

Singman explains that this is a middle-of-the-road look at Medieval life - more advanced than the numerous children's informational books out there, but not as intense as Medieval scholars might at. It provides a broad overview of many aspects of Medieval life, including life as a peasant versus life as the aristocracy, as well as what life would be like in various settings, including small farming villages, larger towns, castles, and monasteries.

Why I picked it up: I needed to do research on Medieval times to improve historical accuracy in a personal project, and this was one of the books on the public library website that looked promising.

My impressions: The promising outlook of the book did not disappoint. I admit that I skipped most of the chapter on monasteries and did some skimming in the chapter on large towns or cities, but for the most part, I found the information very helpful. I think the author accomplished his goal of providing a sort of "in-between" work on Medieval times that is accessible to the modern reader. I felt that the author did a nice job of keeping a balanced view of things; this includes when he talked about the Catholic Church. He did not shy away from the fact that certain orders were actually very occupied with worldly matters or that the pious St. Louis of France was anti-Semitic, but neither did I ever feel like he took a stance that attacked the Church. His discussion of Medieval times felt very factual and matter-of-fact. This is a book that might work better as a reference rather than a full read-through, but going through the whole thing was not terrible - just a little slow at times. I recommend this book to adults (eh, college-aged or older, I guess) who want to "do research" like me that is not too shallow, and yet not too deep, or if they just want to know what it would have been like in those times. This book covered a lot of information - clothing, transportation methods, even how people might have counted time. However, I was still a little disappointed that there were no details about castle prisons or how aristocrats would have interacted with peasants (which were two questions I came to the book with), but a book can't have everything, I suppose. I took notes, but I would not be surprised if I checked this out again in the future to refresh on details I had forgotten.

Wives and Daughters, by Elizabeth Gaskell

The lives of Victorians in the middle and upper classes, or aristocracy, of a certain county, are explored, especially through the romantic relationships formed and/or broken off. 

Why I picked it up: I found this book on the "sale" shelf of my alma mater university; I presume I recognized the name of the author, who also wrote "North and South".

My impressions: The length of this book (nearly 650 pages) intimidated me and it sat on my shelf for years. I am so glad I found the courage to attempt it, though. After three pretty slow-moving initial chapters, I was caught up in the book. The crowning achievement of this book is the depth Gaskell imparts to each of her characters. There was variety of personality in the numerous persons who made an appearance, as well as a verisimilitude about them. The themes and story development are incredibly well done - what I understood of the themes I learned primarily from footnotes (I learned that having an annotated edition makes a huge difference in my understanding literature). Gaskell's character insights were subtler, I feel, than George Eliot's in "Middlemarch", although the womenfolk seemed to be always crying or fainting or falling ill. I wish I could dive into it more, but suffice it to say I was blown away by the author's skill in that respect. I'm ready to see if I can find the BBC series based on this book and watch it. There are only one or two points that I picked out as being imperfect, but they don't detract from the brilliance of this book, which is definitely what I consider a work of "literature" in the official canon sense. First, the book is unfinished (hard to believe after 650 pages, but sadly true). However, this stems from the unfortunate event that Gaskell died before its completion. I appreciated the note after the end of the 60th and final chapter making this known to me; this same note explains what was known of what was left of the story, and implied that the work could have been wrapped up in a chapter (I thought about four chapters would have felt more likely, considering the pacing and detail Gaskell included).  The second aspect that I disliked was that there are two main mysteries in the book, with it taking the author FOREVER to resolve the second one; I waited for about 200 pages between first feeling really antsy about knowing the answer and the actual revelation of the secret. This book requires a commitment to read (a pun, considering so much of the book's drama stems from inconsistency of attachment), so I wouldn't recommend it to everyone. However, if one is a fan of "Jane Austen" books and/or novels penned later during the Victorian area, and loves deep characters, and has a lot of time to sit down and read, and doesn't mind having the last chapters missing, this is a fantastic book to read.

Meditations and Devotions, by St. John Henry Newman

The titles explains it all; this is a collection of various meditations and devotions penned by the new Catholic saint, Cardinal John Henry Newman. I do not believe this is an exhaustive anthology of said writings.

Why I picked it up: A friend gave this book to me and my spiritual director recommended that I read some of St. Newman's works. This has been my evening and/or morning reading for a few months.

My impressions: This is the perfect book for the kind of reading I was using it for (namely, daily meditations). Newman's excellent writing skills come to the fore without making me feel less intelligent than he. The author seemed very real to me and I felt like I was "getting to know" him as I read. I would recommend this book to anyone, particularly high school and older, who is looking for some spiritual reading.

The Noonday Devil: Acedia, the Unnamed Evil of Our Times, by Jean-Charles Nault, O.S.B.

A monk explains that acedia, one of the "eight evil thoughts", was recognized by the desert fathers and Medieval thinkers alike before it disappeared from Catholic discussion. Nault describes the history of acedia, what the desert fathers recommended to fight it, and how acedia manifests itself in modern-day vocations.

Why I picked it up: This book was on my "to-read" list for a while and I felt like reading it.

My impressions: I wish I'd picked this book up sooner. I've heard a lot about the "eight evil thoughts" over the last year or so because Catholic podcasters like to discuss them, but this book brought home to me that there are many benefits to be gained from learning about the ways temptation manifests itself in my life. My favorite part was the penultimate section that explained the specific ways acedia strikes in different vocations, including the single life. I felt very seen and encouraged to renew the fight against temptation in my own life. I would (and on Facebook, did) highly recommend that anyone who is looking for their next spiritual reading title check out this book.

The Westing Game, by Ellen Raskin

A seemingly random, but carefully chosen, selection of apartment residents are chosen to inherit a fortune if they solve the mystery surrounding a mysterious millionaire's death.

Why I picked it up: This book was recommended on the blog of someone on a Facebook group I like to follow.

My impressions: I'm not sure why this book won the Newberry award in children's literature. I think it was a creative tale, in which the author attempts to make the murder-mystery child-safe, but it did not captivate me like typical murder-mystery-style stories do. I didn't like having to reread too-subtly-written sections to understand what was happening. It didn't help that I disliked most of the characters. I like that the author portrayed persons with disabilities and how people can find if hard to communicate with them in a meaningful way, reminding readers that we can and should reach out to those we find struggle to encounter. I felt there were many loose ends, though many of the story's threads were tied up in a tidy way by the end. I would warn parents that there are a few elements I would caution them to be aware of: rumors of a girl committing suicide to avoid an unwanted marriage, lying, remarriage after divorce, and lack of openness to life in marriage. Most of these elements are minimal in the story, but they are present. I don't think I'd recommend this book to readers because I did not enjoy it myself.

Salamandastron, by Brian Jacques

This iteration of the Redwall series follows the squirrel Samkim as he tracks down Martin the Warrior's sword, Thrugg as he seeks a cure for a pestilence that has stricken Redwall Abbey, and Mara as she leaves Salamandastron and returns again to help her foster father defend it against the evil weasel Ferahgo and his son Klitch.

Why I picked it up: Redwall books are my equivalent of a "beach read" - easy to read, fun, and familiar. It had been a while since I'd read this book in the series, and since COVID is still causing problems, reading the Redwall book with a plague felt right.

My impressions: I used to be bothered by Mara's many poor decisions and her attitude at the beginning of the book, but this time, I saw how it fit into the story well. I enjoyed this book overall, although sometimes even the good creatures fall into error (telling lies, being harsh in treatment of others, rather than just, etc.), but I think it helps show no one is perfect - the author doesn't necessarily make that clear, though. This book is a lot of fun, as most Redwall books are, but there were one or two parts that made me squeamish even now - just a scene or two that show the wanton cruelty of Ferahgo, which is otherwise just hinted at or referenced. Yes, the writing is formulaic; no, it's not the best writing ever; yes, I did get tired of Jacques referring to the villains' innocent-looking blue eyes that provide cover for their crimes, but none of that really matters. I actually had fun picking out the formulaic elements that are common to all or most Redwall books. I think that will need to be a blog post for another day. In any case, I recommend this book to children who are reading at this level and above; however, be aware that some beloved characters die and some scenes are very violent and might frighten or concern younger readers.

Invincible Louisa, by Cornelia Meigs

This biography details the life of Louisa May Alcott, author of "Little Women" and other books.

Why I picked it up: This book won the Newberry Award.

My impressions: This book was alright, but I can't say it was fantastic. It is written in what I consider a traditional biography format, which means "telling the facts" and little or no engaging dialogue. Therefore, the style is not particularly appealing. It was fun to learn more about Louisa and see just how much of her life ended up in her books, but I did not like the biographer drawing her own conclusions about different aspects of Alcott's life - for example, that Alcott was extremely sensitive and therefore, such-and-such a setting was bad for her. Perhaps this was true, and possibly even mentioned in letters, but the biographer made it sound as if it was her own assessment. I cannot say that I like the fact that Laurie doesn't marry Jo in "Little Women" any more after reading about Alcott's life than before; the only explanation given for why is that Louisa said she would not have them marry on any account. As a warning to parents, this book uses an objectionable term when referring to African Americans; this book was written in the 1930s, and though Meigs writes admirably of Alcott being pro-emancipation and caring for the plight of African Americans during her time, it can still strike the modern ear as a condescending tone. I think the only people who would be interested in this book are readers who have already read "Little Women", but I don't think this is a "must-read" by any means.

Bracket Play


Round One consisted of mostly easy wins, with half of the books being stellar and the other half less so. However, it was noted that Newman's "Meditations" made a solid showing, but fell to the other spiritual book primarily because, as a collection of different meditations, it lacked the strength of the focused "Noonday Devil". In Round Two, Gaskell's "Wives and Daughters" defeated "The Woman Who Was Chesterton" because of its masterful writing and character study. Again, "Woman Who Was Chesterton" was not a weak contender, especially as a biography, but it couldn't stand up to the incredible Victorian novel. "Salamandastron", while enjoyable, did not have the power of "Noonday Devil". In fact, the two books in the final round were both so incredible that I couldn't choose the winner. I recommended "Noonday Devil" to pretty much everyone via Facebook, and individually to specific friends. "Wives and Daughters" had me raving about it to a literary galpal and it stuck with me for several days after I finished reading it. Both deserve winning spots, but for very different reasons, so I tried to respect their different kinds of excellence by ending this month's bracket in a tie.


Books Attempted and Put Down


The Read-Aloud Handbook, by Jim Trelease

This 2006 book discusses the ins and outs of reading aloud.

Why I picked it up: It was a free book in my workplace workroom; I took it because I'm interested in this topic.

Why I put it down: This book is basically a prequel echo of "The Enchanted Hour" and I realized there was no way I could work my way through it. I basically made use of the read-aloud recommendation list at the back part of the book and added titles of interest to my list. However, after reading through some descriptions of these books, I think the author may have different literary tastes that I do.

Saturday, July 25, 2020

Redwall Scholarship: The Eras of Authorship

I grew up reading the Redwall series, a group of 22 books by British author Brian Jacques that feature sword-fighting, talking creatures as they embark on adventures and fight villainous armies. Though not the best-written books in the world, multiple rereads of most of the titles throughout my childhood and adolescence have left me with the impression that there is not enough appreciation or research on these books. If nothing else, 22 books in the same created world provide an excellent sample size even for intra-series research.

So, adopting the alter-ego Prenna Maplewood, in tribute to Jacques' naming schema, I hope to produce various quasi-scholastic explorations of the world of Mossflower, beginning with this initial consideration of the author's writing style.

Prenna Maplewood, Squirrel Scholar, on the Eras of Jacques' Writing

It is a truth universally acknowledged that an author who has developed a certain style of writing is prone to fall into formula. This statement unequivocally applies to Brian Jacques, the author of the Redwall series, one of the most consistently structured series of all time. However, serious readers and Redwall scholars agree that noticeable variations exist even within the same formula. These differences in writing precision and tendencies lead to a primarily-agreed-upon set of "eras" that define the Redwall series. These six eras include original, transitional, classic, experimental, neo-classic, and stale-fail.

Original: Redwall

There is only one original, and that book has no others like it: "Redwall". Published in 1986, this novel was Jacques' first, and it shows. The author was just developing his style with this initial book, and while the story elements are excellent and help create a wonderful and engaging story, there are indisputable growing pains evident in the book. Just one example can be provided by the moment when Cluny the Scourge and his vermin army initially appear riding a haycart drawn by a horse; horses do not appear in any of the following twenty-one books. Another example is how Martin the Warrior's presence in the Abbey is much stronger in this book than in any of the others, specifically in how he almost identifies as the mouse Matthias. In other novels, Martin's spirit merely guides heroic youngsters, but in this book, it is clear Martin's relationship to Matthias is much more integral than in later books.

Transitional: Mossflower, Mattimeo

These two books follow up the original, the first being an introduction to the great warrior, Martin, and the second being a sequel to the original. These books do not have the glaring inconsistencies of the first book, but it is still evident that the author has not quite locked into his style at this point.

Classic: Mariel of Redwall, Salamandastron, Martin the Warrior, The Bellmaker, Outcast of Redwall, Pearls of Lutra, The Long Patrol, Marlfox

This longest of eras includes a mix of books that are completely representative of the best of Jacques' writing and those that are partial flops. Most of these books fill up gaps in the Mossflower history, pre-Matthias, but a few further the timeline as well. Only two of these titles do not bear the level of excellence of the others, those two being "The Bellmaker" and "Outcast of Redwall", but there are possible reasons for this, including the fact that "Bellmaker", a sequel to "Mariel of Redwall", was written after Jacques had composed two completely different stories, giving him time to lose track of the defining qualities of his key characters. "Outcast", on the other hand, suffered from having a strong first act and a weaker second act, possibly because Sunflash the Mace had already completed his quest to badger lordship of Salamandastron by the time the second half of the book rolled around. Overall, though, these books can be considered "hallmark" quality of Jacques' Redwall books.

Experimental: The Legend of Luke

This book falls into a category all of its own. A fantastically touching and tragic story is sandwiched between two sections that basically serve only as plot devices to get to the most interesting part and get back to the Abbey. The strange placement of the best part of the book right in the middle of the story, using a "story within a story" scheme, marks this book as an outlier in the Redwall series.

Neo-Classic: Lord Brocktree, Taggerung, Triss, Loamhedge, Rakkety Tam, High Rhulain

After a segue into less-impressive story-telling, Jacques jumps right back into his classic style. However, some undefinable quality makes these books different from those found in the former classic period. Some scholars debate that it is the fact that the illustrations consistently match the feel of the books; some argue that there is no substantial difference between these and the classics other than the fact that there is more consistency of quality. Others, myself included, believe that Jacques has perfected the formula of his book structure and therefore can play around with elements in an exciting way, even while revisiting previous locations (Loamhedge) and asking similar questions to before (nature vs. nurture). Or, it may just be the bias of the scholar that these books were ones that the author read as they were published. These books could also be considered representative of the best of Redwall.

Stale-Fail: Eulalia!, Doomwyte, The Sable Quean, The Rogue Crew

Unfortunately, Jacques' Redwall books end on a low note. These titles are recognized as some of the worst in the Redwall series. They bear a distinct feeling of "been there, done that". Jacques combats this feeling, but his attempts to switch things up only result in a very pronounced feeling that he has tried to switch things up and has not been successful. These books are characterized both by their heavy reliance on previously-used elements that have become tropes for him (e.g., crazy old loner hedgehogs) and on failed attempts to keep the story fresh. It has been noted that these books were all written after 2006, when Jacques completed the third and final book in his "Castaways of the Flying Dutchman" series. This finding suggests that when Jacques dropped out of his neo-classics, he could not recapture their magic after the brief hiatus.

In Conclusion

The Rewall books are, in majority, and enjoyable series. There are multiple titles that do not reach their potential, but they are largely fun and comforting stories of seeking and fighting and finding and coming home again.