November Book Bracket

November was another five-book month, but some of the books were pretty intense in length as well as in the mental engagement required to read them.

My Reviews

Edith Stein: A Philosophical Prologue 1913-1922, by Alasdair MacIntyre

A philosopher writes about the philosophy of the Catholic Saint, Edith Stein, primarily from the perspective of history and her lived experiences prior to her life as a Catholic.

Why I picked it up: This book was required reading for a philosophical class I'm auditing.

My impressions: This is definitely a book about philosophy, but not from the perspective of trying to give a general account of philosophy or even an account of an entire movement. The author, MacIntyre, a philosopher and convert to Catholic, explains only the philosophical foundations relevant and necessary to understanding Stein's own philosophical thought. That doesn't mean I actually understood everything, but I appreciated that he limited himself in this scope. It was interesting to read about various factors that probably influenced her own thought and her eventual conversion to Catholicism. I thought the author was fair in his analysis of Stein's philosophy, giving her credit where it was due, but also pointing out the shortcomings of her philosophical compositions. I don't think I'd necessarily recommend this book to people to read - certainly not just for fun - but I can think of at least one person who might like to give it a try because it has to do with a beloved saint. In spite of the difficulty of wading through philosophical terms, I did feel the book made accessible Stein's work, which would otherwise have proven far too daunting for me to ever consider really diving into.

My Bondage and My Freedom, by Frederick Douglass

A well-known abolitionist grew up as a slave in Maryland, sought to educate himself as much as possible while enslaved, escaped to the free states as a young man, and began a career dedicated to ending slavery.

Why I picked it up: This book was required reading for a philosophical class I'm auditing.

My impressions: Douglass was an extremely astute man, and his excellent prose testifies to his intelligence. His observations about his own development and his description of the entire slavery system provided me with lots of food for thought. One could say that his reflections made me reflect. I had known, in a sort of abstract way, that slavery was wrong, but reading the personal account of someone who experienced it brought home to me the incredible EVIL of the institution of slavery. I am so grateful that we live in a nation where it is outlawed, but it also makes me more sensitive to the injustices still perpetrated in our society. Some of the best (and worst, excluding descriptions of horrible things done to people of color) parts of the book were Douglass' character sketches. He observed how circumstances, influence, and even the practice of "owning" another person changed the people he encountered. I would highly recommend this book to anyone of upper high school age or older, so long as they were aware there are some very troubling descriptions of the horrors of slavery included.

First Draft, by An Aspiring Author

A Robin Hood fan-fiction considers the legendary tales from the perspective of a stuttering Maid Marian, a timid woman who finds herself waylaid in Nottingham when all she wants is to reach a convent to live her life out in silence.

Why I picked it up: It was written, but had not been read by the author as a single work.

My impressions: I am shocked that the author asked her friends to read this first draft. The fact that three people read this work and still wanted to be her friends is a testament to the strength of their character. This work was awful. I would definitely not recommend reading it at this time. The author's attempts to make the language sound archaic made for some stiff and awkward reading. There were some pretty egregious historical inaccuracies and plot holes, manifesting specifically in a tendency to develop characters halfway before dropping them completely from the narrative, only to have their names dropped again in the last chapter. There were some definite slow parts, but a few sections showed real promise. The archery tournament had some decent build-up of suspension and pacing, and the tension between Marian and Robin Hood was not without a little merit. This work is a first-class example of why first drafts should not be widely read. I anticipate something like an eighth or tenth draft, with some major reworking of different sections, might go a little better. The story has some potential. It would take something of a miracle to make it a real blockbuster of a tale, but with a lot of work and over time, it could end up being a work with which its author is satisfied.

Wild Animals I Have Known, by Ernest Thompson Seton

A naturalist shares a collection of quasi-fictional short stories about wild animals (and domesticated creatures with a wild side) that he developed from his encounters with them.

Why I picked it up: I saw a FB post once that compared required reading for eighth graders a century ago with required reading for modern day eighth graders (or something along those lines). This book was on the list of the bygone century and it piqued my interest. I saw it on our bookshelf at home and picked it up as a sort of fluff-read to accompany the heavier academic works that have been my focus lately.

My impressions: This was a easy read, but it also made me think about the nature of man's relation to wild creatures. In short, it was pretty perfect - thought-inducing, but endearing and not difficult to work through. By showing the personalities of creatures ranging from crafty wolves and foxes to courageous bunnies and partridges, the author makes a good implicit case for preserving wildlife instead of hunting it down thoughtlessly or ending animal lives cruelly. I rejoiced in the author's turn of phrase several times, including when I read a passage about a raccoon that, like old-time monks, was rumored to consume a meatless diet, but needed only an opportune chance to end his abstinence. The stories almost always ended with the death of the storied creature - in the introduction, Seton notes that the story of every wild creature is a tragic one - which made for some sad moments, but it was fascinating to consider the incredible intelligence of the animals. This book rekindled a sense of wonder towards animals that I have not felt for a while. In short, this is a fantastic little book and, while it's at a reading level that middle schoolers could navigate, I would warn some parts might be hard on the emotions for youngsters - especially for animal-lovers. Those sad parts make me think that this would maybe not be the ideal read-aloud. I would recommend this book to my friends as something to reconnect them with a love for nature or even just as an easy getaway in the midst of the heaviness of adult life.

Stages on the Road, by Sigrid Undset

Nobel-prize-winning author Sigrid Undset wrote this collection of biographies and theological considerations as separate pieces for different publications. She writes about Ramon Lull, Saint Angela Merici, St. Robert Southwell, St. Margaret Clitherow, and about gossiping and marriage.

Why I picked it up: This book was required reading for a philosophy class I'm auditing.

My impressions: To be honest, I'm not quite sure what to make of this work. As an introduction to some Medieval and Renaissance figures of the Catholic faith, it was interesting. The essays on gossip and marriage were good as well. However, I don't know exactly how to consider it as a whole work. Should I just take it as a collection of some of Undset's shorter, nonfictional works, and nothing more? Or is there more to this grouping of biographies and topics than I appreciate right now? I'm looking forward to hearing what comes up in the class discussion about this book. I did not like the two biographies about the Catholic English martyrs as much as the rest of the book because I find that period of Church history to be a downer. I know that there are beautiful witnesses to the faith from this time period, but the persecution of the Catholic faithful hurts me. Also, I feel a little weird that this is my first reading of anything by Undset, and not her ultra-famous "Kristin Lavransdatter." This book would be good for high schoolers and older, although I would put a cautionary label on final essay about marriage if the reader is sensitive to the topic of suicide, which is brought up as an example in that part.

Bracket Play

Frederick Douglass's "My Bondage and My Freedom" received a pass on the first round because of its excellence of prose and ideas communicated. MacIntyre's "Edith Stein" fell to Undset's "Stages on the Road" because of the difficulty of the former's prose and the reader engagement developed in the latter. The "First Draft" fell without a fight to Seton's book on wild animals biographies for every reason.

Douglass' work went on to dominate the next two showdowns for the reasons listed above: the writing is superb, the work made me think, and it's one that I would recommend to other people to read.

Books Attempted and Put Down

The Walking Drum, by Louis L'Amour

This work of historical fiction centers on the adventures of the British/Celtic Kerbouchard in the world of Medieval Europe and beyond.

Why I picked it up: I found this book at a garage sale and wanted a break from the heavier reading I was doing for my classes.

Why I put it down: This book did not really work for me. It had adventure elements, but I couldn't say that I really liked the main character. I wasn't invested in the book after 60-some pages and decided to move on to another book. I may come back to it in time, but probably not for a while - at least, not until I knock out some newly-acquired books on my shelf.

The Benefits of Forced Reading

 A Reflection and a Reaction

This blog post is not my typical book-bracket. After reaching the three-quarter mark of two classes I am auditing now, I felt the urge to type up a reflection on why being forced to read certain books was something I was finding beneficial. However, the lack of a coherent line of benefits meant I kept putting off the task. 

Then, I started watching a short video series entitled "Read More Books Now." No, the irony of watching videos about how to read more books was not lost upon me. Once I reached the fourth episode, I found my creative juices flowing as I reacted against what the speaker, Brandon Vogt, shared. 

The combined effect of class and video on my writing impulse follows here.

Vogt's Argument

Brandon Vogt is the regular co-host of Bishop Barron's "Word on Fire" podcast, which I have taken up listening to this year. By listening to this podcast, I've come to realize that he's a smart guy, and his ideas are definitely worthy of consideration. When I stumbled upon a free one-month trial of his ClaritasU site, I skimmed with an eye to interesting course titles, such as the enticement to "Read more books now!" 

Episode Four, "Don't Be A Slave," considers Vogt's take on knowing when to put down a book without finishing it. He says that people don't need to finish books they don't enjoy because, in his figuring, "For every one book you read, you have to ignore 10,000 other books."  Like I've said in my own words, "Life is too short to read books you hate."

However, I took issue with the fact that Vogt did not temper this take in any way, and I finished the episode with the impression that if one does not like a book for any reason, dump it. This all-or-nothing perspective rubbed me the wrong way.

Great Books Classes

I'm auditing two classes right now at my undergraduate alma mater. These classes were just developed and are based on other "Great Books" programs, or programs that focus on reading classic works of literature for a more liberal-arts approach to education. At the beginning of these courses, the three professors that co-teach these courses made a point of discussing why we read difficult books. Bo Bonner, in particular, says that reading great books isn't about what one gets out of the book; it's about what the book gets or draws out of the reader. If we are not up to the struggle, it's more of a reflection upon us, the readers, than it is upon the merit of the book.

This take on reading takes Vogt's views head-on. Rather than giving up on a book because we do not enjoy it, the professors at least imply that we ought to fight through difficult and lengthy works because the ideas in them push us and help us to grow.

In My Own Life

I will concede that there is value in Vogt's views; after all, I earlier mentioned something about abandoning books that cause hateful feelings. I'm sensitive to the ideas expressed in books and movies, so I probably end up abandoning proportionately more books than the average reader. I'll even admit that I skipped at least one of the classics assigned for the Renaissance classics course because I didn't want to struggle with it (no thank you, "Doctor Faustus").

However, I have to say that I've seen a lot of fruit borne from reading works that I would probably never have picked up otherwise.

To provide some backstory (which is one of my favorite pastimes), I decided one summer during my high school or undergraduate years to dedicate time to reading classic works of literature, and I was burned by the experience. It may have had something to do with the fact that I read two books by James Fenimore Cooper, an author who apparently had trouble with writing happy endings. In any case, I decided that the classics were maybe not the best types of books to read on the regular.

Then, in late college, I discovered that there were lots of books in the world that I actually wanted to read. (It sounds strange, but that is a story for a different post.) I discovered a Facebook group that regularly has book posts that contain treasure troves of new books I want to read. My reading list has never been longer.

Finally, this last year, I've dedicated myself to the practice of reading books and reviewing them for this little blog. I have to admit that I don't think I've ever tried so hard to read so many books. There's something very satisfying about knowing that I sometimes have six or ten books to consider in a month. When I signed up for these classes, I saddened a little bit, because I realized that I would no longer have as much time to read the books that I knew I wanted to read. I wouldn't have the enjoyment of clearing off a little more space on my shelf or picking up a quick filler book to beef up the monthly book bracket. I was to take on the long-disused yoke of assigned reading. 

I ended up with two lists of books that, with only two or three exceptions, contained books which I seriously doubted I would have picked up to read anytime in the next twenty years. I tried to read as many books as was feasible for me at this time in my life, even the more philosophical works. Some I had to skim, and others I was forced to skip.

But can you guess what I discovered? There was actually something appealing about being told what I must read. I realized that I had spent much time - years, in fact - reading only the books that I decided would be interesting to me. By trusting my own inclinations, I had become the ipso facto expert of what books were the best for me.

These classes have taught me that this is not necessarily true. I still ultimately decide whether to read the works in the class, but having much smarter and sharper professors and classmates there to discuss difficult works and to help me dive into the texts has helped me view literature with something of a broader perspective. I would probably have never read Frederick Douglass' "My Bondage and My Freedom" on a whim, but reading it for the class gave it a chance to really make me think about different topics. I find that trusting another's judgment about these works has been good for me.

One of the most comforting takeaways is that classics are not necessarily going to to comforting. Quite often, they are just the opposite. I guess I had this idea that classics would be works of great beauty and big ideas that would always make readers thing of transcendental goods (wow, that sounds a little high-falutin' to me as I type those words out), but now I've partially adopted the viewpoint of my professors and I think that classics are sometimes classics because they make people think, and making people think often happens by making them uncomfortable.

Going Forward

I am still looking forward to the summer of 2021, when I will officially have my reading life back and I can indulge in whatever my fancy fancies. However, I'm also looking forward to the spring semester of 2021, when I will have another list of required reading for two more classes that I will be auditing. I feel a little silly saying this, as it is a big backpedal from my former position, but I'm actually looking forward to at least trying to wrestle with some books I figured I wouldn't read for another decade, if ever - books like Shusaku Endo's "Silence" and Evelyn Waugh's "Brideshead Revisited." I doubt I'll actually make it through the first one, a la Vogt's strategy, and the second one might reach completion only with skimming, but I'm at least going to give them some honest consideration, which is more than they've had from me up to this point. I hope to grow my intellect and reading appreciation from encountering these difficult, sometimes unenjoyable, sometimes unexpectedly interesting, books.

 

October Book Bracket

I read many fewer works this month than I would have liked, but I'm trying hard to keep up with class reading, which limits the time I spend on books that are more fun. All the same, I managed to fit in a couple for-fun reads at the beginning of the month when they were much needed during the business of work.

The Thief, by Megan Whalen Turner

In this fantasy adventure, Gen, an imprisoned thief, is forced into an expedition to recover a legendary stone that grants the right of ruling a country to the possessor.

Why I picked it up: A Facebook advertisement announcing the release of the latest book in the series prompted me to read this first installment.

My impressions: The main feeling I got from this book was one of reading through a Dungeons & Dragons experience developed by the author. That may not be a fair assessment, but it gives me a good outline for talking about the pros and cons. I enjoyed the world and myths developed in the story and found the characters unique and entertaining. I wondered at one point if "self-centered but gifted petty thieving criminal" is a trope in fantasy worlds, because that description is one I've seen before and it definitely fits the main character. I enjoyed the adventure very much, but the exciting parts weren't as gripping as other books I've read (Green Ember, for example). This result could stem from the fact that I was a little confused at times and missed various hints throughout the novel that enjoyed their full significance only at the end of the tale. It made for a fun ending, but I think it is possible this book might be more fun - or at least fun in a different way - on the second reading. I'm not sure if I'll be rereading this book in the future; it's not really one I'd anticipate sharing with potential future children as a beloved story from my younger days. However, it had a good enough ending that I was still thinking of it on and off the next day. I figure a high school student secure in their faith and not troubled by non-Christian creation stories could handle this book. I must warn that there is a decent bit of swearing by the pagan gods of that world, stealing is apparently not frowned upon, and some of the myths involve some (non-explicit) but clearly stated affairs between different gods and goddesses.

Beorn the Proud, by Madeleine Polland

Ness, an Irish Christian captured in a raid by a Viking peer, Beorn, becomes a slave in his household and accompanies him on an adventure to save the Danish king against Beorn's cousin, Helge.

Why I picked it up: I bought several "living history" books, published by Bethlehem Books, when that company had an online sale. I enjoy medieval settings and, probably still with "Rolf and the Viking Bow" in my memory, decided to take a chance on this one.

My impressions: I enjoyed this book. I felt it had much more depth than the last book of this type I finished, "Red Hugh, Prince of Donahue," because there was believable character development. I liked the pace of the story and felt that, even at 180-some pages, it was pretty short. I appreciated the underlying tension between Christian and pagan nations, but more especially that the author depicts how people can share their faith without becoming preachy - Polland never becomes preachy in her writing, herself. The religious differences are naturally integrated and actually provide key insights into characters, rather than being a chance setting that was necessary for a Viking adventure. This is a book I would recommend to children who are at that reading level and anyone older who wants a quick and interesting Irish-Danish adventure. For the sake of sensitive children, it might be good to know that the story starts with a Viking raid (violent, killing) and there is a scene where a hermit, who has lost his wits, is abandoned to a death of starvation or exposure on a beach.

Dialogues, by St. Gregory the Great

Pope Saint Gregory the Great communicates about miracles and spiritual truths in dialogue with his friend, Peter.

Why I picked it up: This book was required reading for the philosophy class I am taking right now.

My impressions: I liked the miracle stories best in this book. The book includes mostly people of whom I've never heard, but the author dedicated the entire second dialogue to Saint Benedict and the miraculous happenings of his life. I felt inspired to live a better life during the first dialogue, but I became inured to the wonderful happenings later on (I regret to say it, because it is a reflection of me, and not of the stories). Towards the end, I mainly felt concern about how my soul will be judged after death - many of the stories, especially at the end, highlight how strictly we shall be judged - but I imagine this is one of the main intentions of the book. If so, Saint Gregory accomplishes his purpose. The choice to use a philosophical dialogue format was not my favorite because Peter's questions served mainly as launching points for the stories and ponderings of the pope, but I may have appreciated it more had I not been a modern reader. This book would make some good spiritual reading, I think, but I didn't find it as impactful as other works. High school students and older should be able to handle it, although some middle school readers might appreciate the many miracles.

Paradise Lost, by John Milton

Renaissance-era English poet Milton composed this classic epic about the fall of Satan and the tempting and fall of mankind.

Why I picked it up: This book was required reading for the Great Books class I'm taking.

My impressions: This work was a mixed bag for me. I thought it was weird that the first two (of twelve) books, or long chapters, in the epic were all about Satan and the demons. Even stranger was the order of events, with the focus switching between Satan/the demons, God and the angels, and Adam and Eve, the actual fall of Satan being told in a backstory by the angel Raphael, and then humans eventually gaining more attention at the poem progresses. But, it's still a classic, and even though this first story from the book of Genesis has never been my favorite, I still felt moved at different parts by the wonderful writing. I sensed the coming tragedy and ached because I knew how it would end, and yet, the poem ends with a bittersweet removal from Eden, the earthly paradise and a promise that greater good would come out of the evil of Man's disobedience. There were a couple places where Milton takes a dig at the Catholic Church (he was a Puritan, I think?), but it's not too blatant. More problematic to me was that Satan ended up being a relatable character - I felt at the beginning that Milton had made him, in some ways, admirable, which troubled me. However, discussion in class helped me think better of what Milton did - I think the idea was that Milton wanted us to feel the attraction of sin, as it truly has in our lives, but realize that no matter how "good" it seems, it is and always will be bad. Another area of note is that the theology is definitely not correct in places (I won't go into it all now). Milton didn't shy away from talking about rape (Satan and Sin) and sex, but when he spoke of the relationship between Adam and Eve before the fall, it had some elements that - as one of my professors said - made it sound like Jason Evert wrote it. All things considered, I think that this is a good work to read with solid guidance. I read parts of it in college and the considerations were literary, but not necessarily with that Catholic lens which I appreciate; I didn't really like it at the time. It's not my favorite even now, but I might reread it someday if I have a good reason. I think college-age or mature high school readers could tackle this, but again, I'd recommend some sort of literary critique or discussion with knowledgeable persons to really get a better appreciation of it.

The Hind and the Panther, by John Dryden

This long poem is a metaphor or allegory for a dialogue of which church is the true Church - that of the Church of England, or that of the Catholic Church; it falls in favor of the Catholic Church.

Why I picked it up: This poem was required reading for the Great Books class I'm taking.

My impressions: Well, I wasn't super impressed. Perhaps the class discussion of this work will help me appreciate it more, but it wasn't a great read. If it is meant as an apology for Catholicism, I guess it is a creative way to present arguments, but as a work of literature, it is definitely not at the level of other classics I have read. I wouldn't recommend reading it.

Bracket Play

Bracket play was pretty straightforward; the favorites of the first round, "Beorn the Proud" and St. Gregory's "Dialogues" won easily against their less-likable opponents. It was a tough match between "The Thief" and "Beorn the Proud" in the second round, but Turner's work edged out "Beorn" primarily because it made this reader want to look into more works by the same author while the losing work was quite satisfactory as a single story. I didn't find myself looking up Polland's other books to see if there was a sequel. A work of fiction won yet again this month over the religious works. Again, this is not because the spiritual reading was bad; it is because the fiction is engaging enough that I have talked to others about it in an attempt to get them interested in it. I want to talk to other people about "The Thief" and I haven't found anyone else who has read it yet.

Books Attempted and Put Down

Crown of Coral and Pearl, by Mara Rutherford

Nor, a twin from a settlement in the middle of the sea, takes her injured sister's place as the most beautiful maiden from her village and soon-to-be-bride of a prince, but she finds the land is a dangerous place full of scheming court members, a sickly king, and a creepy fiance. Also, the prince has a super-attractive half brother.

Why I picked it up: After "The Thief," I was still hankering for some fantasy and saw this book recommended on a Facebook group I follow.

Why I put it down: The descriptions were too...sensuous? for me. There were a lot of descriptions that weren't necessarily inappropriate, per se, but there was an overuse of physicality that I eventually concluded could be troublesome - it was, in fact, troublesome for me. I would actually be pretty set against letting a teenage daughter read this book for that reason. Beyond that, the book felt like a pretty stereotypical YA book, with the inclusion of a smirking love interest, societal unrest, decrying a focus on appearances, and at least one sequel (because how often do we come across YA standalone novels?). I skimmed the rest to find out what happened and I couldn't get a good picture. I figured that I wouldn't have enjoyed much of it, as it seemed to turn pretty heavily to political machinations at the point I ended - my impression could be wrong, though.

The Queen of Attolia, by Megan Whalen Turner

This sequel to "The Thief" follows the moody thief, Eugenides, as he becomes a key player in the war that has erupted between the countries of Eddis, Attolia, and Sounis.

Why I picked it up: I was delighted by the first book and, still being in the mood for some fantasy literature but disappointed in "Crown of Coral and Pearl," I wanted to find out what happened next in Turner's world.

Why I put it down: I wanted to finish this book! I really did - but I was just not in the right mindset for a romance. I was about 75% of the way done with the book before the love story became a bigger deal (it had been mostly action/adventure/brooding up to that point), and I made it to maybe 80% completion, but I just couldn't handle the romance right now. It wasn't steamy or anything...just not right for me at this time. And the relationship was a little unusual, somewhat arranged, but with some emotional investment. I couldn't find any spoilers on Wikipedia for how the story ends, so I couldn't say that I'd finished it even by skimming/looking up. I don't even know if I could recommend it or not because...well...a lot rides on how a story ends.