May 2021 Book Bracket

With school finishing up, I did not get as many books read as I would have liked, but a few readable fantasy novels for children helped boost my reading count, as did a push on the last day of May to finish "True Devotion to Mary", a spiritual book I've been working through for a while.

Red Falcons of Tremoine, by Hendry Peart

Leo, who has spent his whole life at a monastery, learns that he is the son of nobles and finds himself kidnapped in a power struggle between the antagonistic sides of his family, both of which claim him as their heir.

Why I picked up this book: A children's book of Medieval historical fiction - I've become quite interested in ferreting out books in this niche.

My impressions: This book ended up being somewhat uncomfortable to read because of the Stockholm Syndrome-esque quality it had. Young Leo dislikes the injustice found in the lands of his kidnapping Uncle Rolf and hates his uncle, but by the end, when (spoiler) said uncle dies, he says the uncle really hadn't been that bad, and in spite of his cruelty, had loved Leo in his own way. Yikes. No, people are not just black-and-white, all good or all evil, but it seems a little much to write off the very obvious shortcomings of the uncle at the end. This man manipulated Leo in at least three decisions so that he makes choices under duress. The time period seems very well researched, but I've now read enough of these books to start wondering if orphans being raised by monks in monasteries is a trope for the genre. In spite of the book's flaws, it hasn't soured my appreciation for this type of book, although I don't know if I'd be comfortable recommending this particular work to others.

Return: How to Draw Your Child Back to the Church, by Brandon Vogt

Written for parents, Vogt outlines the reasons why people leave the faith, "game plan" for how to engage fallen-away Catholic children and create the environment that is most conducive to them returning to the faith, and how to answer specific objections.

Why I picked it up: There is someone in my life with whom I'd like to engage and see if I can, God-willing, improve our relationship and start laying a foundation for their return to the faith.

My impressions: This book is a must-read for anyone with a loved one who has fallen away from the faith, even if it's not one's child. It is chock-full of helpful content and suggested reading. It was hard to read the "no-no's" and realize I'd committed at least some of them, but I think this book is very right to remind the reader that the person trying to do the drawing has to do a lot of work in their own soul before and while they are trying to interact with their fallen-away loved one. There is great orthodox, intellectual content as well as pastoral tips - the "what" as well as the "how to", as it were. I am still intimidated at the thought of reaching out, but I don't consider that a shortcoming of the book - I think it stems from my own flaws. I will probably be rereading some sections of this again very soon, but it is not a hard read by any means. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who has had a loved one fall away from the faith.

Tolkien: Man and Myth, by Joseph Pearce

Joseph Pearce writes a biography on Tolkien, world-renowned author of "The Lord of the Rings".

Why I picked it up: This book was read for me and my book-club-friend to discuss.

My impressions: As with most of Pearce's works, much of the content is solid, but it must be taken with a grain of salt. Pearce presents with favorable biases towards his subjects, but at this point, I can usually pick out areas where he presents his perspective as opposed to the bare facts. The books feels a little like a series of Tolkien essays that have been grouped together to form a sort of biography; this feeling stems from the fact that Pearce references the same sources, and even the same quotes, multiple times throughout the entirety of the work. I found some references unnecessary or unnecessarily long, particularly one which he quoted at length about a feminist interpretation on one scene in "The Lord of the Rings" - it was nasty; I wish I'd skimmed sooner - and passages from the books (I did skim those since I've read them before in the actual work). I do like that Pearce is widely read on his topic and explores even critical voices on Tolkien, even if only to denounce such positions. I am grateful to Pearce for being a second voice that has at least implicitly questioned the motives of Humphrey Carpenter, Tolkien's official biographer, whom I gather may have had some negative biases towards his subject. For more on this, please refer to the previous blog post. I found that, for someone who's already read a biography or two and academic essays about Tolkien, there wasn't much new ground covered in this biography, but I really liked Pearce's opening chapter. The first chapter considers several British polls at the close of the 20th century that indicated Tolkien was the favorite author of the era (or perhaps all time), and the ensuing fury of the academic literati. I think this biography would be best for someone who has heard of Tolkien and his works, but may not be ready to dive into Carpenter's longer biography or "The Lord of the Rings" series right away. As always, with Pearce, I would encourage the reader to consider his ideas critically (not negatively, necessarily - just with a posture of not feeling obligated to agree with every surmise) and skim parts if needed.

The Monster in the Hollows, by Andrew Peterson*

The third book in the Wingfeather Saga follows the Wingfeathers when they arrive across the sea, seek refuge in their mother's hometown, and deal with the prejudice the residents bear against strangers and, especially, the wolf-transformed young Kalmar.

Why I picked it up: A few years ago, I read the first two books of this fantasy series, but stopped after book two because I found one development kind of disturbing; I picked up the series again because a recent Facebook ad revealed that a group is crowdsourcing funds to create a family-friendly television series.

My impressions: This third book continues the humorous but dangerous adventures shared by the three royal Wingfeather children and their mother. I appreciate that the author takes time to dig into the dynamics shared between the siblings, the long-reaching effects of bad decisions (sin), and how the Maker (God) can take something broken and turn it into something wonderful. Regarding sibling dynamics: I found the struggles and disagreements within the family believable and wondered if Janner's relationship with Kalmar could perhaps be reflect a little of how a neurotypical child might feel about a sibling with special needs. I still found some descriptions of the evil side's doings a bit disturbing, like in the second book, so sensitive children would probably want to avoid this series. As far as storytelling goes, I think thought the pacing worked pretty well and did not feel like there were really any slow parts of the book, but there's nothing particularly mind-blowingly awesome about the series. It follows in the vein of worldbuilding established by Tolkien, with its own maps, set of lore, histories, and even family trees. I think the writing is better and more consistent than that of the "Green Ember" series, but I don't think this is a series that I'll be reading more than once. I enjoy the author's sense of humor and some of the whimsical ways he has of writing, but there's some definite potty humor that, although probably realistic amongst siblings, is not exactly what I would consider necessary. Nothing else objectionable for young readers here, other than some content that could end up being scary for some readers.

The Warden and the Wolf King, by Andrew Peterson*

The fourth and final book describes the adventures of the Wingfeather children and their friends that lead to the battle with the terrible enemy, Gnag the Nameless.

Why I picked it up: I figured I might as well finish the series while the previous book was fresh in my mind, before I moved on to something very different.

My impressions: This book was a solid end to the series: it had plenty of action, displayed characters performing acts of heroic self-sacrifice, wrapped up some loose ends, and made me cry a few times. However, it was not enough to make me love the series as a whole. One section led up to a major battle and there turned out to be no conflict after all - this was good for the sake of the many characters, but it left me with a feeling of deflation. The demise of another character and, at the end, the way the Hollowsfolk ended up acting did not quite impress, or ring true for, me. The final battle at the end flirted with running a little too long. There were still creepy descriptions that I was not a fan of in this book. I had the feeling that the author has studied his Tolkien and knows how to pull together a pretty great eucatastrophe. There was one thing I was still saddened about at the end, but the epilogue leaves the door open to a more complete happy ending. I wished I could know if what I wanted would happen or not, but I suppose leaving that bit to the imagination helps keep the ending from being too saccharine. I appreciated subtle hints dropped throughout that all would end well - or pretty well, at least, but others may not like that aspect. Major Christian undertones run through the entire series, but come out very clearly in this book, especially. I would recommend those who have read the first three books in the series to go ahead and finish with this one. However, I don't think I'd personally recommend this book. Others might find it enjoyable (I feel like the author has a great, whimsical sense of humor that comes out in his writing style), but it wasn't quite my cup of fantasy tea.

True Devotion to Mary, by St. Louis de Montfort

St. Louis de Montfort explains consecration to Jesus through Mary, its importance, and a roadmap for consecrating oneself.

Why I picked it up: I've already consecrated myself to Jesus through Mary, but I thought it would be a good idea to brush up on it from the saint who wrote extensively about it.

My impressions: This book is worthy of the title "spiritual classic." De Montfort's love for Mary comes through clearly in his writing and he is not afraid to dive deeply and develop ideas fully. The book is well structured and ends with the consecration program. There is a lot of reading to get through for the consecration, and I admit I did not follow the program exactly, as he describes it should be completed. I did not have much trouble with the book, but I've encountered reports from other people that this work may not be the best for someone struggling with scrupulosity; I would say that the excerpts from "The Imitation of Christ" might be the most troublesome in that area. I highly recommend this book to anyone who wants to really explore Marian consecration. I would recommend Fr. Michael Gaitley's "33 Days to Morning Glory" as a first experience of Marian consecration, but this work is excellent in different ways.

Bracket Play

My bracket looks a little wonky this month, but I didn't feel like fixing it up to be more aesthetically pleasing.

In the first round, one Andrew Peterson children's book beat out the less-liked "Red Falcons" with ease, but the previous book in the Wingfeather series, "The Monster in the Hollows", lost to the spiritual classic by de Montfort. Also in the first round, Brandon Vogt's informational and practical book about creating the most conducive environment for discussing faith with fallen-away Catholics beat the Tolkien biography by the interesting but sometimes biased Joseph Pearce. "True Devotion to Mary" had a buy in the second round, while Vogt's book beat out the exciting and emotional, but not-likely-to-be-read-again, Peterson adventure. "Return" edged out the book by St. Louis this month because it has a lot of stellar information that I think many Catholics need to hear. Of course, we all need to learn more about and turn more often to Our Lady, Mary, but Vogt's book meets a need I am experiencing in my life right now, and I feel like I would be able to recommend it to a wider Catholic audience at this time. I noted that two books (the Wingfeather saga novels) were most readily available to me in Kindle form, so I read ebook versions*.

Why I Should Research Biographers More: June 2020 Book Bracket

I have an apology to make. In June of 2020, I determined that my favorite book of the month was Humphrey Carpenter's biography, "Tolkien." Since then, I've heard from author and academic Holly Ordway and read in Joseph Pearce's book "Tolkien: Man and Myth" that Carpenter may have been extremely critical of his subject, and to a degree that may have clouded his presentation of one of my favorite authors. I apologize to any potential readers I have, and also to myself, that I did not look into the potential biases of the biographer before I went and picked the book as my favorite for a month in which I read 13 other books.

Now, I know that Joseph Pearce's opinions are best taken with a grain of salt - he has his very definite biases, too, all very much in favor of whomever he is writing. However, having heard the same implication from multiple sources, I realized that Carpenter, in the guise of "official biographer," may not have the most accurate perspective of Tolkien.

However, I'm not ready to plunge into a full-scale research project to determine just how negative Carpenter's view of Tolkien might have been, and if or to what extent that bias appears in the biography. Note the title of this post: "WHY I should research biographers more", not "I'm going to always research biographers more or even right now". Just the implication that Carpenter might not have been just to his subject is enough for me to throw up my arms in dismay at this late hour and cry, "Who is to be trusted?" Pearce has his biases and is probably too generous with Tolkien. Carpenter seems to have had his biases and may not have drawn correct conclusions about Tolkien, or put him in a fair light. It seems that the only solution is for biographers to stick strictly to the facts and never analyze, synthesize, or construe any suppositions beyond the bare facts. But that hardly makes for an interesting biography, does it? People want to know about what makes individuals tick, and that is not necessarily going to be found in the mere exposition of important life events.

It is alarming to me, as a reader, that I don't even know what I don't know. Authors have biases...authors who write about writers have biases...I'm not quite sure what to make of it. But I do hope that, someday, someone will pen an academic article that really explains what the relation between Carpenter and Tolkien was, and what his possible writing flaws may have been.

I am not going to say that "Tolkien" by Carpenter was not my favorite book of June. However, I'd like to add a warning now to those who consider reading it that you may want to be wary of Carpenter's perspective and not buy it trustingly and whole-heartedly, as I largely did.

April 2021 Book Bracket

 

April Book Brackets

Apologies for an incredibly late post. As ever, May (and even the end of April) became magically and totally, expedectedly busy.

Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison*

A black man is used by different people and groups in his American society, and the abuse he experiences leads him to the conclusion that he is invisible.

Why I picked it up: This book was required reading for one of my courses. I misunderstood the timeline, however, and started it well before we were supposed to read it. I wanted it done, though, so I pushed to finish it. It was at least partially read on my Kindle.

My impressions: I detect a theme running through my reviews of modern literature: I can appreciate some of the excellence of the writing, or the story, but I don't enjoy it. The same holds true for this work. I did actually enjoy some the passages - they struck me as "lyrical," although I question my right to use such a word considering what an amateur critic I am. Perhaps it's better to say I liked the way different passages played on my internal ear as I read them - there was a rhythm, a delicious use of the sound of the words themselves that came through to my obtuse sensibilities all the same. I also enjoyed the feeling that I might have picked up on some symbolism in this book - I wasn't able to pull too much meaning from it, as is expected, but I felt more successful than usual in at least identifying likely symbolic motifs, etc. (giving myself a figurative pat on the back). However, in spite of these pros, the cons made the book a difficult read and not a book that I think I'd recommend any time soon. It was long. Most of the characters are not likeable. There are some pretty weird parts, affairs, graphic descriptions, and violence. I skimmed a few sections and do not regret doing that. I'm curious to hear what is brought out in class discussion because I think there are some important things being said, but I can't confidently say that I could articulate them at this time. I don't see this being a book I'll want to pick up and reread in the future. This book is a modern classic by a person of color, so it definitely diversifies my typical reading fare, but I would warn high schoolers and younger against reading this book. Some college students might want to avoid it, too.

The Professor and the Madman, by Simon Winchester

This historical account depicts the meeting of several minds belonging to men who worked on the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary in different ways; one was the main editor for many years, the other an inmate of a lunatic asylum, who likely suffered from schizophrenia and contributed thousands of illustrative quotes for the definitions.

Why I picked it up: The movie and the book upon which the movie is based were brought up in a Facebook group to which I belong, and a screenshot of the cover has been sitting in my phone for well over a year, I'm fairly sure. The catalytic event to get me to finally read the book was my parents checking out the movie from the library, and my decision to read the book before I watched the movie.

My impressions: This is not a book for children or immature readers, but very interesting. The most difficult and uncomfortable aspect of the book was that the titular "madman" had problems, some of a sexual nature; the author did not often go into graphic detail (there were moments when I skimmed, for sure - e.g., some paragraphs/sentences describing or referring to naked women, other passages), but it was certainly enough detail for the reader to know what was happening. The person concerned also mutilated himself, and the author, again, did not shy away from giving details. Other than such moments (which do occur periodically through the length of the work), I found the story very interesting. As an English minor who very much enjoyed her "History and Structure of Language" course as an undergraduate, I found the story of the creation of the OED - a staple reference in most, if not all my college papers - to be delightful. The work was a straightforward read and clearly well researched, with the author referencing patient notes, personal letters, and the current appearance of instrumental locations. I followed along easily enough and found it fitting that I had to look up delicious-sound words along the way. I cared for the persons portrayed, even considering how factually the tale was related. I do think that there was pretty blatant speculation at one point about one character's motivation for one act, but he writes in such a way as to indicate he is definitely hypothesizing. I would recommend this book only to mature book- or word-lovers who can handle some pretty heavy content, are ready to skim when needed, and would be interested in an account of the formation of a dictionary.

The Song at the Scaffold, by Gertrud Von Le Fort

A timid Carmelite novice and her novice master must face different martyrdoms from that experienced by others of their order at the guillotine in revolutionary-era France.

Why I picked it up: One of my audited classes had one last assignment in which we were asked to read a book and make a certain kind of report on it; this was the only book left by the time I got around to choosing, but it was one I already owned, was short, and was the one I wanted anyway. This is a reread.

My impressions: I was not blown away by this book the first time I read it, but I was this time. Maybe I was in a different place in my life where I could appreciate it more, or perhaps I actually gave myself time to just sit with certain passages. The characters are beautifully portrayed in a storytelling style that considers psychological, philosophical, and political influences on individuals and on the society at large. The spiritual landscapes of different souls are explored in a way that is engaging, not preachy, and the symbolism is rich with religious connections. I thought Von Le Fort had the perfect touch. There were a few disparaging comments on the lower classes throughout the tale, but I think of it as the perspective of the nobly-born narrator, rather than the author herself. I think it's a brilliant little book and would encourage everyone to read it; non-Catholics may not appreciate it as much because of the overtly Catholic everything, but then again, they might. I anticipate that I'll be reading this book again sometime.

The Idea of a University, by St. John Henry Cardinal Newman*

Cardinal Newman, in a series of spoken (and written) lectures, describes what he thinks the role of a liberal arts university should be.

Why I picked up this book: Required reading for a class (not surprising); however, this is a work that I've known for a long time that I should read, but have not done so because of intimidation by the length and the siren calls of other shorter, more appealing works.

My impressions: I can give a basic summary, I think, of Newman's points: a liberal arts university needs to include all fields of knowledge because they are all parts of Truth, and do not contradict; leave one out, and it does violence not only to the missing field, but to the other fields that try to take it's place and cannot but fail to do so. Student come to a liberal arts university to learn how to think and because knowledge is good for its own sake. Everything else (even making students useful, contributing members of society) falls into place only if they are kept secondary and respect is maintained for the first premises. A liberal education does not form people with spiritual virtue; it forms people with intellectual virtue, which can help set people up for moral virtue, but only if they choose it.

This is the summary, as best I understand it. There is much in my mind that remains in a kind of nebulous haze about the work. Newman is widely acclaimed as a brilliant prose writer, but I admit his work required some perseverance to chug through. It helped to be able to discuss different sections with a class and a teacher who knew what he was about; I don't think it would be nearly as beneficial to read this book alone. I'll need to revisit it, probably multiple times, to feel like I have any real grasp on this work. I picked out sections that I really liked and would want to revisit sooner than the rest of the work, and I am in awe of Newman's intellectual and writing powers. I'd recommend this book only to book discussion groups of dedicated adult readers who care about liberal arts education and/or Newman and don't mind approaching this work in chunks.

Symbolism and the Christian Imagination, by Herbert Musurillo, S.J.

The author explores how Christian authors treated on theology in a variety of works, especially poetry, from the beginning of the Church through the Middle Ages.

Why I picked up this book: I read the title and thought the work would be extremely useful to my ponderings of entertainment and the Christian life; I did not realize I was in for a more academic work that dealt with a specific time period.

My impressions:  This book is probably most useful to those who have a particular and academic interest in the historical development of different modes of treating on theology, such as allegory and poetry. I placed about ten sticky note tabs in likely spots, but most of the book was rather dry, informative reading. I found myself wishing that there were appendices that included at least the shorter works referenced and described in the book, but at most, a few lines of a poem or the entirety of a shorter prayer was all that the reader could hope to find. There were lots of footnotes indicating works that readers could turn to for more information on various writers or works, but this book itself was more of an overview. My favorite parts were towards the end, where I learned about the origins of different prayers or liturgical sequences that were adopted into the Roman missal after their composition. I would not recommend this book to anyone, unless they have a definite interest in this particular niche of knowledge, and even then, I wouldn't put it forward as much more than one writer's analysis of various works and a starting place for more in depth research. Perhaps I'll take a kindlier view towards it if I can glean some good leads from it for my own considerations.

Books Attempted and Put Down

The Little Grey Men, by E. B. White

Three gnomes in England decide to go on an adventure track down their missing brother.

Why I picked it up: It was touted as a favorite of Julie Andrews' growing up and maybe someone suggested Tolkien may have read it at some point? But I could be making that up.

Why I put it down: I couldn't get into the book. It's one of the books that I think could hold a special place in the heart of someone who read it as a child - perhaps like Wind in the Willows - but is not necessarily something that I, as an adult, find too interesting. There are so many other books on my "to read" list that I feel I can't really be wasting time reading a book that's not shaping up to be very interesting (I know I kind of went against that with Phantastes, but I had had greater hopes for that one). 

Book Bracket

I did not even allow "Symbolism and the Christian Imagination" to play in the tournament. I was not too impressed by it and didn't want to prematurely wear out one of the other contenders. As excellent as I sensed Invisible Man is, I didn't find it all that enjoyable. I think it is a very good book to read, if one has the maturity to do so, but it's very long and not one that I'll be rereading for fun any time soon. Likewise, the very excellent Idea of a University fell to the very worthy, quicker, and less heady work. I'm sorry, St. Newman! I wish I appreciated it more - it's just I'll probably need to read it again (and again, and again) before I really come to appreciate this seminal work as I should. Fear not, though - I'll at least revisit key sections one of these days (I hope). In the second round, Song at the Scaffold took the win because it was such a well-written story and didn't have any really questionable parts - squeamish parts, perhaps, but nothing I felt I had to skim over. Also, it was an incredible story, and so well written.