January 2021 Book Bracket

 First book bracket of the year 2021, and actually, the first book bracket I've done for this month ever (I started this blog sometime in February of last year). In some ways, I felt like the books I read in the first month might set the tone for the rest of the year's reading, but maybe that's reading too much into things.

My Reviews

The Silence of Saint Thomas, by Josef Pieper

Three essays on Saint Thomas Aquinas, by Catholic philosopher Josef Pieper.

Why I picked it up: This book was required reading for the Great Books courses I will be auditing this spring, and I figured I better get a head start on the readings.

My impressions: I liked the first essay the best; it included information about the saint's life as well as some key ideas of his philosophy and theology. The next two essays were more strictly "philosophical". They have their relevance, but undiluted philosophy is not quite my thing, even if it is more approachable than other philosophical works I have encountered. The second essay focused on St. Thomas' belief that we can know things, but not their very essence (I sure hope I understood this correctly; discussing this for class is going to be a mess). The third essay considered what benefit the philosophy and theology of Aquinas can have for modern existential philosophical thought. I sure hope that discussion will help me get a better handle on what Pieper was saying. I wouldn't recommend this book at this time except to people who are studying philosophy and would need to be familiar with Pieper's perspective on these topics.

The Silver Branch, by Rosemary Sutcliff

Two members of Rome's British legions fight a murderous emperor in their own unusual way by gathering other disaffected British residents and joining the forces of an invading Roman ruler.

Why I picked it up: I requested this book for Christmas, as I had enjoyed "The Eagle of the Ninth," a distant prequel.

My impressions: This not-entirely-original feeling story had enough good action and battle scenes to keep things interesting. There was just the right mixture of adventure, spy activity, and political intrigue. I questioned the veracity of having a sort of "underground resistance" type of organization in ancient Roman Britain, but that did not prevent me from enjoying the book. There is a plot, and while it was not extremely strong, it worked. I did think a few parts dragged here and there, but that could be due to the fact that I had some reading fatigue after spending most of a day reading the last 100 pages. Overall, I'd say it was a a somewhat forgettable, but sound and interesting book. There wasn't anything that stuck out to me as something parents should know about before setting a child loose with the book. I would recommend this book to any reader who is at the reading level and wants some good historical fiction about ancient Britain.

Catholic Literary Giants, by Joseph Pearce*

This collection of essays by Catholic literary critic Joseph Pearce focuses mostly on famous authors who were born Catholic or converted to the faith in their lifetime.

Why I picked it up: This book was available for free on the Formed.org site and, having read other of Pearce's works, it sounded like something that I needed to read.

My impressions: I'm not convinced that I needed to read this book. It had its merits, certainly - I really liked parts of some essays about C. S. Lewis, for example - but the work didn't break much new ground for me. I actually did not realize going into this book that it was a collection of essays which Pearce had written. Many seem to be prefaces for other works, so the structure was perhaps a bit off-putting as it was not what I expected. As always, Pearce brings his passionate Catholic faith to the page in series after series of admirable and allusive alliterations, but I can't say that I know exactly how I feel about this particular writing tic. He also continues his habit of making slightly-too-broad sweeping generalizations. Unfortunately, I found the fairly large section on Tolkien extremely repetitive and, therefore, rather dull. It seems I'm already very familiar with the insights Pearce provides on the topics of faith and symbolism in "The Lord of the Rings". One leaves the book with the sense that some of his portrayals of authors might be colored by the very obvious positive regard he bears them, but that doesn't mean that there isn't helpful information there. It was overall a pretty neutral reading experience. It's rather fun and, somehow, encouraging to examine literature (and even art, as in the essay on Salvador Dali) with a very knowledgeable person who brings their Catholic faith to bear on the interpretation. I think this book contains some good introductory information on authors who were major Inklings or members of what Pearce terms the "Catholic Literary Revival," but it's not what I would consider a "must-read" by any means. A good number of the essays are probably appropriate for high school age and up; others perhaps more for adults, but in all cases, they're best when read with a grain of salt, methinks.

Seeds of the Word, by Bishop Robert Barron

This collection of essays by Catholic bishop and evangelist extraordinaire Robert Barron explores how we can find seeds, or bits of the message, of the Gospel scattered throughout different secular arenas, including movies, books, politics, and the wider culture.

Why I picked it up: I think I got this book from Word on Fire when they had a special deal on it. It sounded interesting.

My impressions: This is an excellent collection of essays, which are uniformly short, ranging up to about three or four pages, so it's easy to tackle in large chunks or in small ones. I was astounded at the depth of thought and the considerations evoked by such short passages, and while Bishop Barron is just brilliant, these essays were extremely approachable and readable. If you haven't figured it out, I really enjoyed reading this book. I found some sections a little drier towards the end, but it is probably just personal taste (politics and certain areas of the wider culture). I did notice that some essays were basically written summaries of ideas discussed in his podcast, but after some reflection, I realized that's not so bad - I certainly need to keep being exposed to these principles if I'm ever going to absorb them enough to be able to articulate them. I highly recommend this book to pretty much everyone high school age and older. Some of the points might not be completely intelligible to readers, depending on the politics, philosophy, etc. that they've been exposed to, but I don't think that should discourage anyone from reading. I imagine some essays, such as those about politics, might feel dated eventually because they're about specific historical events, but the principles would always be relevant. I felt a very few essays had a slightly belligerent undertone, but it is minor, if present at all (I'm more likely to read that sort of thing into works than other people would be, I imagine).

Mossflower, by Brian Jacques

This prequel to the original "Redwall" relates the quest of the legendary Martin the Warrior after he comes to a Mossflower Forest dominated by an evil wildcat's armies.

Why I picked it up: I found myself craving a Redwall book; I've determined that if I start craving specific beloved books from my childhood, I'm actually rather stressed, even if I don't feel like I am. This is at least the third time I've read this book - I've probably read it four or more times than that.

My impressions: This is a fun adventure story with many of the classical mythic trappings that people love. I've always loved the portrayal of Martin as a warrior who won't. back. down. I think the writing betrays the efforts of a new author still figuring out his style, but in some ways, the way he wrote this book would make it particularly amenable to being read aloud. The characters are very black-and-white, good or evil with no in-between, but in some ways, I think that makes it less worrisome for younger readers. Some sensitive readers might be concerned by the descriptions of death or violence, but otherwise I think it would be a great read for upper elementary readers and above.

Searching for and Maintaining Peace, by Father Jacques Philippe

Fr. Philippe explains why keeping peace of heart is difficult, but important, as well as how we can go about maintaining it in our lives.

Why I picked it up: I had read it before, but it was one of the two books my spiritual director recommended I read. 

My impressions: This is an excellent, wonderful book. It is a small book and organized into short sections, so the format is perfect for both picking up and reading in small chunks or for longer periods of time. Experiences described in the book ring true with those in my life, and his directives seem simple, attainable, and applicable. I cannot recommend this book highly enough to everyone. It's one I actually wanted to reread immediately when I finished it this second time, and even though I did not do so, I definitely hope to revisit it this year. I recommend this book to anyone high school and older, especially those who, like Martha in the Bible, are "anxious and worried about many things." The book might be appropriate for middle-school-aged children, but I'm not sure; please read it if you have not.

Bread in the Wilderness, by Thomas Merton

Trappist monk Merton explains the importance of praying the Psalms in the Liturgy of the Hours and how we can grow in our faith by praying them.

Why I picked it up: I found this book on sale for about 50 cents at my alma mater's library and, seeing it was Merton, hoped it was one of his earlier works and decided to take a chance on it.

My impressions: This was a book that I didn't know I needed to read. Over the last year, I've found myself wanting to learn more about Vatican II; this book does not explain all of Vatican II, but it does explore the Divine Office, which was reformed by that council. Merton breaks down how to approach the Psalms (not merely as "literature", but as rich prayer) and other facets of prayer in what is, as he says in the prologue, "a collection of personal notes on the Psalter." The book makes me want to pray the Liturgy of the Hours more, or at least take the Psalms to adoration with me more. I recommend this book to Catholics who would like some good spiritual reading about the Psalms and the Liturgy of the Hours.

The Hidden Treasure of Glaston, by Eleanore M. Jewett

The lame Hugh finds a friend, Dickon, at the Abbey of Glastonbury and they have adventures seeking the legendary Holy Grail.

Why I picked it up: The Newberry Honor Roll medal attracted my attention, as did the Medieval setting.

My impressions: I have mixed feelings about this book. It was alright as far as adventure goes - though there's not as much "action," it being a treasure hunt rather than a quest. The details are clearly well-researched and give some verisimilitude to the tale, although the visions of Arthurian events cross that line. The main characters all want to find the Holy Grail; this is fine, but the way that legendary vessel is regarded rubbed me the wrong way. The author makes the Holy Grail out to be the most precious treasure on the face of the earth, not only for its history, but for the apparent change it can make on the lives of those who just see it. One character goes through quite a lot of detaching himself form earthly goods so that he can merit the sight of it. All the time I was reading, I found myself confused that the characters didn't see that the greatest "treasure" - that which could make the biggest impact on them spiritually, that would be worth dying for - wouldn't be some earthly chalice that has a great backstory, but rather Jesus' Body and Blood in the Eucharist, present at the Mass celebrated so often in the monastery at the center of the tale. I think it would be alright for children to read this story, so long as parents were aware of how much is made of the Grail, but it's not necessarily a book I would recommend. There are plenty of other fine children's books about life in Medieval times that I think are better than this one.

Bracket Play

Bracket play was fairly easy to determine this month. All the first round matches came out with the expected winners, since I paired weaker books with stronger ones. Fr. Jacques Philippe's book about peace was the favorite throughout and it easily took the prize. "The Silver Branch" was better historical fiction, in this reviewer's opinion, than "The Hidden Treasure of Glaston", but it still lost easily to the favorite in the second round. Bishop Barron's book of criticism also put Pearce's literary criticism essays out without trouble, and the mismatch between "Mossflower" and Merton's book on the Psalms tilted towards the spiritual work from the beginning. The two spiritual works made it to the championship round, but Philippe's book took home the prize for this month.

I've noticed that when I reread books, they generally fall into two categories: comfort reads that may not have much literary merit but get me through stressful times (think "Redwall" et al.), and books that are so amazing that they demand I make time in my busy reading schedule for them. However, I've noticed this trend does not always hold true, as we'll see next month with a reread that was a wonderfully written work that helped me get over a stressful work day (see "The Ordinary Princess" in next month's blog post).

Books Attempted and Put Down

The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma, by Bessel Van Der Kolk, M.D.

A doctor who specializes in the treatment of trauma explores the stories, science, and treatment of persons affected by trauma.

Why I picked it up: I heard about this book somewhere - I'm not sure where - and it ended up on my reading list.

Why I put it down: I realized that there was going to be some pretty heavy content in the book. I made it through the first 70 or so pages just fine, but skimming ahead gave me an idea of what I was going to come up against in some of the chapters. As good as it would be to know more about trauma and how it affects individuals, I decided that the very thick book was too much of a time and emotional commitment for me to continue with.

Frankenstein, by Mary Shelly

A beloved son goes to university and, driven by a passion to penetrate the mystery of life itself, discovers the means to bestow it and abandons his creation, to tragic results for his family, himself, and his creation.

Why I picked it up: This book was required reading for a class I'm auditing on contemporary literary classics.

Why I put it down: I didn't put it down, per se; I actually finished the book. I just skimmed way to much of it to say that I actually read it this time around. I read this book as a senior in high school, but this month, I got behind in my reading for the other class and I'm too poor of a literary critic to make sense of ridiculously long passages about the scenery. There were also a few times the tragic happenings of the story got to me and affected my mood and thoughts.