Saturday, August 31, 2024

August Book Bracket 2024

 August Book Bracket


I was delighted with how many books I finished this month - and that is with school starting up again, too! I was also tickled to see that the majority of books read were physical books, rather than audiobooks. I think it's been rather rare for me to have the preponderance of my books be physical in any given month when I've had access to Audible or found audiobooks on the local library's digital platform, and I like reading physical books.



The Door in the Wall, by Marguerite de Angeli

The paraplegic, Robin, grows in character and physical strength under the care of Brother Luke while his father is fighting the Scots - and he finds that his ailment may be the means by which friends are saved.

Why I picked it up: I needed to reread a book for my summer reading challenge. I wanted an easier read, and I recalled really enjoying this book.

My impressions: This is a very well written book - but I must say that I didn't delight in it as much this time as I recall having during the initial read. One thing that I love about this story is that Robin's character is evident not so much by telling, but by showing through his words and actions. The reader gets to see him grow from a somewhat spoiled and (understandably) irritable kid to a courageous lad. I think the fact that there is not too much plot is what kept it from being "the bee's knees" for me - I usually need a pretty compelling plot - but there was enough driving action at the end that much could be forgiven. I tried looking up this book in the blog archives, but unfortunately, it looks like I'd read it before I started writing these posts, so I don't remember what had charmed me so completely the first time. In any case, this is a great book about Medieval times and would be an excellent read for elementary readers - or those older readers like me who enjoy children's literature. 

The Context of Holiness, by Marc Foley, O.C.D.

A Carmelite looks at the life of St. Therese of Lisieux through a psychological lens, applying different theories by different psychologists to explore what was going on in Therese's mind as she lived and became a saint.

Why I picked it up: I've heard about this book for a long, long time, and desired to read it to learn more about my heavenly friend and big sister. I've been rereading 33 Days to Merciful Love, and seeing this book come up as a referenced source yet again solidified my resolve to track it down. I had to consult the interlibrary loan system to obtain it, but it was satisfying to get it in my hands after all these years.

My impressions: I'm planning on doing a mini deep-dive - a mini-dive? A medium dive? - into this book in a separate post. It is an unusual work, because while Foley applies psychological theorems (as a Carmelite, no less), he also pulls in numerous literary references and even personal experiences. It's not a memoir, and not a biography, it's something all it's own. I think I'm typically skeptical of attempts to psychologize historical figures or literary characters, and with psychology being one of those fields where there's a bunch of theories but no definitive one, I read the book with a grain of salt. Rather, I kept the salt shaker close by. And yet, even with significant reservations on my part, I appreciated much in the book. I gained a greater appreciation for St. Therese and the struggles she faced, and marvel at how much I missed in my multiple readings of her spiritual autobiography. This book would be appreciated by those who love Little T, and I think it would be good for those who think that she's too saccharine or perfect.

Note: This book deals with psychological theories and makes conjectures about some of Therese's temptations being sexual in nature, so it's not a book for young kids.

The Courage of Sarah Noble, by Alice Dalgliesh**

Eight year old Sarah must be brave when she cooks for her father, building a house in the American wilderness, and when she must wait with the local Indians for him to return with the rest of her family.

Why I picked it up: This happy gal got another good Audible deal for the next three months and tracked down a bunch of titles on it that were languishing on her to-read list. This was the first one I listened to while working in my office before students returned for the new school year.

My impressions: This was a quicker listen than I expected for a Newberry Award Honor book, but it was enjoyable. It is one of those old stories that is placed in early Americana, when European settlers were first settling in the wilderness. Sarah had a sweet friendship with nearby Indians in spite of language barriers, which I appreciated. I found the refrain of "Keep your courage, Sarah Noble!" rather repetitive, and I noted there wasn't much to the plot; in spite of this, though, it was almost a cozy little read. While it's not something that needs to be fast-tracked to the top of the reading list, it would be a fine book for younger readers of chapter books, I think - especially for those looking for some historical fiction of early America.

In the School of the Holy Spirit, by Fr. Jacques Philippe

One of my favorite authors, Fr. Jacques Philippe, explains how the Holy Spirit works in the soul and how we can improve in recognizing and acting on those inspirations.

Why I picked it up: This was another book I picked up on that golden day in Goodwill, when I walked away with four different Fr. Jacques Philippe books. This was my morning spiritual reading for a little while.

My impressions: Fr. Philippe did it again! I wrote down many takeaways, all the while feeling that I could just underline everything and that would just about cover it. I can't say that I'm suddenly better at noticing the Holy Spirit moving, but I'm trying to do my daily duties and watch for moments when he might be moving. I found myself wishing I'd found this book earlier in my life, when I had been discerning my vocation. This is a fantastic book for Catholics, especially those who are big Fr. Philippe fans like me, or want to learn more about how to practically try to attend to the Holy Spirit's movement.

The King of Ireland's Son, by Padraic Colum*

This Irish folktale follows the adventures of the King of Ireland's son (that's the only name he's given in the book) and his friend, Gilly, in a very interwoven quest.

Why I picked it up: This book had been on my to-read list for a while. I realized in the last year that it was in the public domain, so I downloaded it onto my Kindle. This is the second ebook I read after finishing the lengthy one about St. Therese's family, so I continue to be grateful that I sat down and finished that one!

My impressions: This is a work that grew on me as I read it, and I was pretty invested in seeing what happened next by the time I was approaching the end of the book. What bothered me at first was that it seemed like every other chapter was just people telling stories. It reminded me of when I read Phantastes by George MacDonald maybe four or five years ago - that work was also riddled with random extra tales, and they didn't really seemed connected to the plot. I was worried that this would be the case with Colum's book, and I didn't look forward to reading an anthology of half-developed short stories disguised as a novel. I was pleased to find some of those tales circling back and filling out throughout the course of the book, so I have to say that interconnectedness really appealed to me by the end. This is a folktale, but the style is very much the sparse narration of a fairy tale, which helped me appreciate what sort of story it would be. There was a lot going on, and it felt like there were two main characters by the end. I will say that some parts were a little sad or dark, and I was left with some unanswered questions (why did the King of Ireland's son's [TKOIS's] stepmother dislike him so much?), but many loose ends were tied up by the conclusion. This is a book that I could see myself handing to my future kids some day - and I think boys will appreciate this, because there are a lot of adventures TKOIS and Gilly have. I will note there are some elements parents might want to be aware of, such as interacting with wizards, pretending to be hanged, and engaging in some trickster practices that might be a bit questionable, but I didn't find anything that I was all that concerned about.

Rifles for Watie, by Harold Keith**

Kansas boy Jeff volunteers for the Union army after Missouri "bushwhackers" almost kill his father; he has varied experiences of army life as he travels across multiple southern states, including Arkansas, Missouri, Texas, and Oklahoma.

Why I picked it up: This was another audiobook of a classic that's been on my to-read list for a while, and I enjoyed it quite a bit in audiobook form. I actually tried listening to this in May, but it wasn't right for me at that time.

My impressions: This is one of those books where I can tell and appreciate why it's a Newberry Award winner. The main character, Jeff, is a likeable character and experiences a wide range of emotions during his army time. He encounters many different kinds of people, and gets to encounter Confederate soldiers and pro-Confederate civilians in such a way that he is able to see them as people and enjoy their company. The author doesn't shy away from the devastation caused by war, but he doesn't describe it graphically or in an emotionally wrenching sort of way that a more modern book might. Yes, there are scenes that might be too difficult for sensitive readers, but there is so much action going on that it doesn't feel like that much of the book is spent in dark situations. I think boys especially would love this book. This is another book that isn't too strong on the plot - it follows a young man's army career during the Civil War - but there was enough at stake in different parts to keep me wanting to listen to more, especially at the end, where it takes a bit of a survival-tale twist. I do want to point out that the main character participates in looting and some of his other actions are deceptive or questionable. This book could provide fodder for some deep discussions about morality, such as the lesser of two evils, fidelity to country, the permanence of right and wrong regardless of situation, and mitigating factors.

Code Talker, by Joseph Bruchac**

During World War II, Navajo Ned Begay joins the Marines and finds that his native Navajo language, which had been forbidden in his boarding school, is necessary to send encrypted messages on the Pacific front.

Why I picked it up: I came across this as a recommendation somewhere - whether in a list or just on the library's app, I don't know.

My impressions: The author does a great job of making the narrator's voice sound Indian. It is framed as a veteran telling his descendants about his experiences as a Navajo Code Talker. The reader gets lots of facts not only about WWII, but also about the injustices faced by the Navajo people. While there were parts of the story I was not comfortable with (the narrator says he and his family are Catholic, but he also participates in cultural practices that I'm not sure line up with the Catholic faith, such as praying with corn pollen), I was also surprised to find I wasn't feeling defensive, either. Yes, many white people and, presumably, Catholics were very unjust to the Navajo people, but there was not the sense of outrage and shame that I expected to have when it came up. Maybe it was different encountering this information via audiobook. In any case, I think this book is well-researched. Like Rifles for Watie, this book lacked plot, but was still interesting in following the military career of the main character. I've always been interested by the Navajo Code Talkers, so it was cool to learn more about them. Some parts of the book might be sad or difficult for sensitive readers, but I found it to be less emotionally difficult than some parts of Rifles for Watie. Besides that, and the earlier note about cultural prayer practices (which are described with some detail), this book might be well liked by boys especially, and in particular, those who are interested in World War II.

33 Days to Merciful Love, by Fr. Michael Gaitley 

Fr. Gaitley outlines a prayer program of 33 days to consecration to Divine Mercy, which he calls “Merciful Love”.

Why I picked it up: This book came up in spiritual direction, and my spiritual director said it would be good for me to reread.

My impressions: This is a good consecration book. I don’t feel as excited about it as I was the first time I read it, although I still consider it very good. This work fits in well with my recent increase in St. Therese-related literature. I think the parts I appreciated most about it were in the introduction and first week’s readings, in which Fr. Gaitley discusses how there are some people who like to say that Little T isn’t really little – she’s a spiritual giant. He goes on to say that these people aren’t right and that we sinners really do have a great friend helping us from Heaven. I found it interesting that St. Therese is the saint he focuses on, as St. Faustina would be a much more obvious choice. However, biased as I am, I don’t mind that decision! I did skim some of the last part that deals with consecration day specifics, and skipped the appendices. This book would be best for someone who is new to this consecration, but it’s good as a reread, too.

The Practice of the Presence of God, by Brother Lawrence

A Carmelite monk's practice of keeping God present to his soul throughout the tasks of the day is described and discussed in this collection of records of conversations, letters, and maxims.

Why I picked it up: Fr. Jacques Philippe referenced Brother Lawrence in some of his works, and I found out this year that it was a book on the reading schedule for a book club I joined.

My impressions: This was a quick read as far as length goes, but it's the sort of work that had me trying to turn to God more while reading and, hopefully, continuing throughout my days. It was good to take it in little chunks, not only to absorb what was being said, but also - to be entirely honest - because sometimes it didn't hold my attention well. It's a good book, and beloved by many, but it didn't hit me the way I had hoped it would. I noticed that some of the parts seemed repetitive, but that's not surprising, since this book was actually a collection of different forms of communications - conversations, letters, etc. It's not surprising that a monk with a simple method of staying close to God explains this method in a consistent manner. I think that this book might be really good for me in a future season, but I still benefited from it now, seeing that it has inspired me to try to turn to God more throughout the day. This book could be good for many Christian readers - I'm not sure what age would be the youngest to read it, but I imagine middle schoolers could find something beneficial from it, if there were interested.

The Wednesday Wars, by Gary D. Schmidt**

Seventh-grader Holling, son of a successful but ruthless architect, finds his school year - and empty Wednesday afternoons of being the only kid in class - is full of misadventures, surprises, and some major wins.

Why I picked it up: This book ended up on my to-read list at some point (maybe after reading Before Austen Comes Aesop?), and it was one of many books that were available for free through the Audible subscription

My impressions: I wasn't impressed by this book at first, and I almost put it down. The start made it seem like there was going to be subterfuge and conniving between Holling and his teacher. However, I'm so glad I stuck with it and listened to the whole thing. It wasn't too long after I considered whether I wanted to keep listening that things improved. There's not really a plot to the story, but this seems to be the month of listening to audiobooks with little-to-no-plot and actually enjoying it. There's some great character development, a wide range of emotions and relatable experiences, and yet, the main character strikes me as an extraordinary boy - who is quite ordinary. What I mean is, he's like every person out there - when you really get to know a person, you can appreciate just how amazing they are. I don't know how to say it, but it was a really satisfying listen. Schmidt did well in creating what I imagine would be the feel of the world in the late 1960s, and he worked in Shakespeare beautifully. Holling is the only Presbyterian in his class, with the others being either Catholic or Jewish, but I felt like the different religions were represented fairly and respectfully - actually, I think Presbyterianism was the one faith that received more humorous prods than the others. There are a few moments of heartbreak in Holling's family (strict authoritarian parent, lack of love in the household), and things aren't all wrapped up neatly at the end on the home front, and yet, I was left with a sense of hope for Holling. There were a few flippant comments about if [x] happened, life wouldn't be worth living, or people making death threats if [y] doesn't happen, but other than that, I couldn't see anything to be concerned about. Well, some humor about posterior ends, but nothing dirty. This book is a great example of how really great children's books aren't just for kids - adults can enjoy them, too. I certainly did, and I think many middle school readers and older can enjoy this heartfelt, humorous story.


Bracket Play


This is one of those horribly unfair months where I have to choose the winner between two extremely different but excellent books.

The first round paired up pretty neatly, with religious books going against religious books, and children's fiction going against children's fiction. I even had two war books that paired well. The Wednesday Wars was a fantastic read, and while The Door in the Wall was good, it wasn't as good as I remembered it being. The Wednesday Wars won. The book about St. Therese of Lisieux and her life, as viewed through a psychological lens, beat  The Practice of the Presence of God. Both were good, but I would be more excited to read The Context of Holiness again than I would the good but somewhat repetitive and simple work by Brother Lawrence. TKOIS was a very interwoven book that definitely beat the cozy but fairly plotless The Courage of Sarah Noble. Fr. Philippe's book (expectedly) beat the reread of 33 Days to Merciful Love, but that doesn't mean that the losing book was bad - it just wasn't as amazing as its competitor. Rifles for Watie was definitely my preference in the war books.

The second round also wasn't too bad to pick winners for. Fr. Philippe's book beat the remaining war book, TKOIS lost to The Context of Holiness. It was a little sad to see that last book go down in the next round, but it lost to the very worthy The Wednesday Wars. Then, the whole bracket idea that I came up with upset me again because I had to compare a moving work of children's fiction (which almost won the Newbery Award) with an influential spiritual work. Do I pick the one I'm probably going to tell people about how unexpected and great it was (Wednesday Wars), or the one that has affected my life by making me think more about how the Holy Spirit moves in my life? I picked the latter - which is why In the School of the Holy Spirit is on top - but I couldn't fail to give The Wednesday Wars recognition, so it rests as co-winner but not quite winner-winner (for the sake of the final bracket at the end of the year).


Books Attempted and Put Down

Pax: The Journey Home, by Sara Pennypacker**

A sequel to Pax, the story of a boy who releases his pet fox into the wild, and then tries to reunite with him in the middle of a war.

Why I picked it up: I hadn't loved Pax, but this book had been recommended as a supplement to something else I'd read.

Why I put it down: This was another book I accessed through the public library. I just wasn't enjoying it. There's some kinda heavy stuff that the main character has to work through - a broken family, death of a family member, stuff like that. I just wasn't enjoying it, so it made sense to put it down.

Friday, August 23, 2024

Deep Dive: The Context of Holiness

 The Context of Holiness, by Marc Foley

While fiction has a continual presence in my reading life, I have reflected recently that I also have some historical figures, authors, and fact-based subjects that make up much of my reading fare. For me, my nonfiction interests seem to work in waves. I'll pursue a subject with high intensity for a time - a few months, a year, maybe longer - and then it will drop off as another subject takes its place. I say "drop off," because I don't think these interests really die out. Tolkien, the importance of reading, Holly Ordway, great children's literature commentary, and Fr. Jacques Philippe are some of the names and subjects that show up on this blog pretty regularly.

When I realized that Little T - St. Therese of Lisieux - was showing up regularly on blog posts the last few months, I felt a sense of pleasure descend upon me. Little T is a very old friend, and I first made her acquaintance when I was in middle school. I remember reading about her at different times, maybe in high school, but definitely in college - but I hadn't read much about my confirmation saint recently. Then, in July, I finished a book about her family, and it included the portion that included her in the history of the Martin family. Fr. Jacques Philippe will reference her from time to time in his books, and I've been reading more widely of his works over the last year or so. Well Read Moms, a reading club I have recently become associated with, recorded I Believe in Love - a book that reflects upon St. Therese and her Little Way - was one of the books they read in previous years. Finally, my spiritual director encouraged me to reread 33 Days to Merciful Love, a book by Fr. Michael Gaitley that focuses on St. Therese of Lisieux and Divine Mercy. 

Suffice it to say: Little T has been making serious inroads on my reading fare over just the last two or three months. I decided to capitalize on the moment and pick up a book that has been on my to-read list for years: The Context of Holiness, a book that examines St. Therese's life from a psychological perspective. This post is a deep dive into the work.

Why This Book?

I think I first heard about this book at some point during my undergraduate - I associate a memory of being at the campus bookstore - the location of my part-time job - with hearing something about St. Therese suffering from OCD - well, not OCD, but anxiety of some sort. I also seem to recall my spiritual director (met during grad school) saying something about St. Therese experiencing severe separation anxiety. In any case, Little T became an even dearer friend to me because I struggled with anxiety myself in different ways.

It was time to pick up this book. Little T kept coming up in my other reading, and I was in the mood to track down a copy. I'd kept my eyes open for it for years, but I never came across it at a library or on the shelf of a bookstore. I ordered this one via interlibrary loan. Since there are some pretty serious fees associated with not returning an interlibrary loan book, and no renewal options for these checkouts, I decided to zip through it quickly. It was back at the library drop off within the week. 

A Few Notes

Since I wanted to be extra careful about not missing the due date, I took notes as I read and kept track of special quotes. Please know that there will be "spoilers," insofar as I'm not trying to keep anything secret. There's not a plot, or plot twist, but I just figured I better say I won't be trying to hold back on detail. 

I should also probably start off with my overall impression of the book. I think there is danger in psychologizing or diagnosing people who are no longer alive. All we know about St. Therese probably comes from her writings and the memories and writings of her family members and Carmelite sisters. While psychology is a broad field with many helpful applications, it also seems to me to be like the field of communication - theories about, but there's no single "master theory" that captures all of the human experience. These theories do their best to explain what is observed in humans, but one can turn from a strategy recommended by one theory to a different one recommended by another at will.

With that being said, I think there can be value in considering Little T's life in this way. When I read Story of a Soul, I feel like she was a saint almost from the womb. It is a bit discouraging. However, reading Fr. Foley's book has helped me to realize that Therese may have been saying a lot more than I realized, but I didn't have a keen enough observation to detect things. It's enough to make me want to reread Story of a Soul again - sometime - and see if I can pick up on more of those more hidden things.

So, without much structure, here I go.

Lacking the Whole Picture

Fr. Foley did a lot of research for this book. It seems to me that he also has a deep working knowledge of psychological theories. I'm not sure if he had a background in psychological work, but a little bio blurb I found from searching on the Internet indicates that he does spiritual direction. Regardless of his psych studies credentials, I found him to be very credible.

However, there were some points upon which I don't think Fr. Foley had the whole picture in mind, and there were other points that I definitely felt shouldn't be accepted wholesale. This first time I came to this conclusion concerned his take on Zelie, Therese's mother. During a section in which he discusses, amongst other things, attachment theory, Fr. Foley said that Zelie wouldn't have been a secure attachment for little Therese in part because she was too distressed and distracted to nurse her properly - Therese had to be sent to a wet nurse for the first year of her life.

The reason this argument didn't sit well with me was because Zelie was suffering from breast cancer, and probably had been for a while. Zelie mentioned in various letters that she had observed a lump in her breast, and had actually had trouble nursing several, if not all, of her babies. Therese was not the only baby who had to be sent to a wet nurse. In fact, one sibling's death seems to have been caused, or at least probably affected, by the neglect of a wet nurse.

This is not to say Therese didn't suffer an anxious attachment with her mother. It is possible she did, since she had nursed originally with Zelie, then been sent to live with a wet nurse, then come back to the Martin household when she was around a year of age. That is indeed a lot of separation, and it is possible that not only she, but other siblings who experienced something similar, may have developed a strained relationship with Zelie from it. However, I don't think it's fair to assume these separations, Zelie's struggle with breast cancer, and her continuing work in a demanding lacemaking business made her a distracted mother. Zelie was a working woman her entire career as a mother, I think, and I'm assuming the breast cancer could have caused issues with nursing with other children, although I don't know for sure. Zelie wrote many letters and, according to those letters, seemed a very astute observer of those around her.

The truth is that we will never know, this side of Heaven, whether Therese had an anxious attachment to her mother or not. I'm not sure how much it matters that we know it, but I think it was this first possibility of the presence of anxiety in St. Therese's life that drew her even closer to me in college.

More Going On

I'm going to include a quote that had me thinking that I may have missed a lot in Story of a Soul

“Therese may have had the right intention to suffer in silence, namely, not to be a burden to her family, but her decision to do so, may have lacked the prudence that she acquired in later years. We need to read Story of a Soul with intelligence and interpret the events of Therese’s life within context, so that we do not canonize every action of this canonized saint.” (39-40)

The quote basically says it all. A very young Therese didn't complain to her family, but that was actually not a healthy decision. Her later illness, around the age of 11 or 12, and which ended with a miraculous cure, appears to have possibly been her body manifesting symptoms because of repressed memories. I don't think it makes her recovery non-miraculous, but I would certainly be interested to reread this part of her autobiography again with The Context of Holiness hard by.

Not in Any Category

One part of this book that I found intriguing, and perhaps mildly off-putting at times, was that I couldn't quite fit it cleanly into a genre. It is nonfiction, for sure, but also a lot of conjecture. It pulls in psychological theory, but definitely views them through a Catholic lens. The author pulls in historical fact, but also examples from great works of fiction and the author's own life experiences.

It's an unusual type of work, but a happy little corner of me smiles because this seems like the sort of book that would have been mentioned with approbation by some college professors who led the courses I audited about five years ago. The fact that Fr. Foley can bring in so many different areas of study to bear upon his subject speaks of a mind that has been well-rounded in the sense that he hasn't had an education in just one specialty. He is adept at considering Truth in the many diverse fields in which we find it - faith, history, psychology, and the arts. 

I'm not sure what that makes this book, but it was mostly enjoyable.


Only a Deep-ish Dive

It turns out this dive is not quite as deep as I thought it would be. I recorded about 10 quotes elsewhere that struck me. However, the brevity of this post is not an indicator that this was a lame book or not worth reading. I definitely am glad that I picked it up. While it may not be the best book I read this summer, it was pretty good, and it most certainly held my interest. I appreciate that this book made Little T "more human" to me, if I may say that. I didn't find her one of those saints who was just so incredible that I couldn't relate to her, but she did seem to have a degree of perfection that was a little deflating to me in more recent years. After reading this book, I feel a renewed sense of kinship with this dear big sister - because I do consider her a big heavenly sister to me, even if she considers herself the smallest of God's servants. This book provided a lot of food for thought, and I'm glad to have read it.


Friday, August 2, 2024

July Book Bracket 2024

 Book Bracket July 2024

15 books! I completed 15 books this month! Granted, over half were audiobooks (I needed to end my Audible subscription at the beginning of this month, so I wrapped up a few audiobooks that I hadn't quite finished), but I think this is a new record for me! Is reading/listening to a hundred books this year actually a possibility? I am a little disappointed that I couldn't squeeze in that 16th book to make a beautifully balanced bracket, but I'm not that upset. With working starting up, it's not likely that I'll be able to crank out a bunch of books in August, so it's nice to have a head start on one.




Different, by Sally and Nathan Clarkson**

A difficult son and his mom, famous in homeschooling circles, open up about the difficulties of being and raising a child who is "different" and was difficult to bring up.

Why I picked it up: I've been on a Clarkson book kick, and when I read the description for this one on Audible, I felt like I needed this book in my life to bring me perspective when working with students who I find more difficult to teach.

My impressions: I think this is a great book for educators, parents, and children who feel "different" because of their struggles with particular difficulties. Siblings and other kids could benefit from some of the information here. This is an eye-opening work about the real struggles one family faced because of the anxiety and ADHD one child experiences. Having the voices of both Nathan and Sally presented in the work helped me appreciate that this wasn't going to be a work in which one family member complained about everyone else. It also brings home the fact that families don't operate in a vacuum, and it takes help to overcome obstacles. I felt both perspectives were helpful to my understanding, and I found parts of Nathan's story really resonated with me. In fact, I had to skip through a section here and there because it was just too much for me to listen to all the way through. There is a chapter where Nathan talks about an incident about looking at nudes (art), so I would be more likely to be careful with who I recommend this book to personally, but I think there's much in this book that one can learn about compassion, accompanying people in difficult times, patience, and listening for God's voice. This is a great book for adults, but I imagine some high schoolers could really get into this work as well.

Last Child in the Woods, by Richard Louv**

Americans are more separated from nature than ever before, and Louv takes a look at why this is a problem, as well as the benefits of experiencing nature and what we can do to get ourselves - and especially children - back in touch with it.

Why I picked it up: This was another book that was available for free through my Audible subscription. I'd first heard about it from a gal pal, so it was good to get into a book on my to-read list.

My impressions: My overall impression of this book is that I think it has a lot of good information, but it may need to be taken with a grain of salt. During the first few chapters, I was really agreeing with the author about nature being harder to come by, and that this was a problem, but I was also really starting to worry about my future children's future. Once I realized the work was acting a bit as a fear-monger to me, I was able to take a step back and try to listen with a critically aware mind. Louv does well with his research, both quantitative and qualitative, quoting numbers and ordinances as well as interviews or conversations he has with specific individuals. I will say that I agreed with a lot he says, and I feel a bit of vindication about the fact that my high school biology class was so lackluster - I would have been far more interesting in learning about animals and their behaviors and interaction with environments than I was with the molecular structure of RNA or the functioning of cells. While there was a lot to like about this book, there were some ideas I didn't quite agree with, or find concerning to the same degree as Louv. This book did indeed light a desire in me to have more access to nature and unstructured natural play spaces, but I also wanted to be in nature more myself. I think that's both good (since it's good for you), but also a little problematic since I think I'm wanting it for the sake of it's benefits, rather than just to experience the world that God has given us. If the district plans on doing another seminar-style continuing ed day, this strikes me as a more fun topic to do some learning on. I think this book has information that is applicable to everyone, but it's really more for adults. I'd like some city planners and politicians to read this book and get on board with making sure we have enough parks and access to nature, even as more an more land is sold and developed into duplexes and storefront property.

Paddle-to-the-Sea, by Holling Clancy Holling**

A Native American youth carves a paddler and canoe and launches it, sending it on a long journey to reach the ocean.

Why I picked it up: This very short tale was one I'd heard of before, and I squeezed it into my last days of Audible membership.

My impressions: This is a quick read/listen, and a simple tale. I liked that the tale circled back to the youth who began Paddle-to-the-Sea's journey. There isn't much plot, but the difficulties of a wooden figure and his miniature canoe reaching the sea from some inland Canadian starting point provides enough impetus to keep the story going. Some terms used to refer to Native Americans would be considered politically incorrect, but the tale itself is a neat display of the successful interaction of all sorts of people who help Paddle-to-the-Sea reach his destination. I liked the descriptions of nature and the waterways. It was interesting to this American to try to think about crossing wilderness on the Canadian side more than on the American. This book would be fine for elementary readers, and while it was a good listening experience, I don't think it's a book people need to put on their must-read list.


The Wedding Dress Sewing Circle, by Jennifer Ryan

The rationing of clothes in World War II-era England and the arrival of a long-absent fashion designer bring together the women in one countryside village to offer a wedding dress refashion and borrow service.

Why I picked it up: My Granny has trouble finding books to read that are clean, so when she asked if I'd be interested in this one, I thought it would be nice to take her up on her offer.

My impressions: This is a light romance book that follows three women, and the clothes rationing of the time period gives an interesting flavor to the tale. The characters were unique and, when I put the book down, I often wondered what was going to happen next. The book indeed was relatively clean - no explicit scenes, but a scattering of comments or paragraphs that weren't exactly clean. I skimmed through some bits, especially the paragraphs that had more descriptions of physical aspects of falling in love (the feel of someone's lips, for example), but also here and there just to get past the more uncomfortable situations characters found themselves in. While I'm sure some women of that time were indeed embracing a more independent outlook, some of the sentiments espoused by characters felt foreign in there modern sensibilities. This book could be a fun, light romantic fluff for those adult women looking for something relatively clean, but it's not one that I'll recommend to others.


Madeleine Takes Command, by Ethel C. Brill**

A 14-year-old girl must manage defenses for her family fortress when Iroquois Indians attack while both her parents are absent.

Why I picked it up: This book had come across the Audible recommendations list. I passed it by at first, but I needed to use a credit and this seemed like the best way to access the book.

My impressions: I'm sure glad I took a chance on this book! It has all the adventure qualities a gal like me could ask for. And it's based on a true story! I was in the mood for some early America (or in this case, Canada) early frontier tale, and this hit the spot exactly. There was one part that was a tad slow, since it went through a good chunk of historical back-and-forth battling, but it was useful to know the background to the conflict in the story. I found the characters, and their experience of anxiety, believable. It was a satisfying tale and one I hope my future children have the chance to enjoy. Elementary and middle school aged children would hopefully find this book enjoyable, especially as it could bring to life some their social studies lessons on North American history.

The Maid of Orleans: The Life and Mysticism of Joan of Arc, by Sven Stolpe

A 20th century historian (originally published 1956) digs into the literature about Joan of Arc and constructs a biography of her that addresses modern skepticism about her "voices" as well as her spiritual development.

Why I picked it up: This book had been on my to-read list for a while; I needed to read a biography for my summer reading challenge; I wasn't impressed by Twain's Joan of Arc and wanted information about the real woman.

My impressions: I had a mix of feelings when I finished reading this book. I was grateful to the author for addressing another biographer's take that Joan's "voices" were actually just hallucinations. He showed different times that Joan had success that was inexplicable given the circumstances. He cut through a lot of the weeds of legend that have grown up around this woman, and it was sometimes sad for me to learn that some of the "iconic" parts of her story likely didn't actually happen. It was also difficult to feel that, even when trying to trim out the parts that didn't happen, there's still a lot recorded that we're not quite sure about having actually happened. I felt like I was given good historical context for the politics of the time and that the trial was explained well, but I was uncomfortable with some of the details, like how people constantly tried to defame and even rape her. This is not a book to hand to a kid! I was glad to have learned more about Joan, her personality as it can be captured through descriptions and documents, as well as the fact that her sainthood is not based on the fact that she received personal revelations, but rather that she displayed heroic virtue. It was hard to read about her trial and death, of course...and with the focus on her suffering at the end, I found myself not necessarily longing for the heights of sanctity because suffering - in this case, her type of of suffering -  scares me. It took going to adoration and reading something by Fr. Jacques Philippe to help me sort that out (I'm still asking God to make me a saint!). This could be a good book for people who want to know more of the facts about Joan - as well as some of the debunked legends or views; however, there might be more recent scholarship on Joan that could be more up-to-date.

This is My Body: A Call to Eucharistic Revival, by Bishop Robert Barron

Bishop Barron wrote this book about the Eucharist as part of the three-year Eucharistic Revival taking place in the United States 2022-2024.

Why I picked it up: I had intended to read this at some point, with the Eucharistic Revival happening in our country. An extra layer of motivation came from the fact that this book met the "read a book less than 150 pages in length" requirement for the summer reading challenge.

My impressions: Bishop Barron does a nice job laying out the doctrine of the Eucharist and exploring the Bible and Church teaching, as expressed by the early Church Fathers and later theologians, like St. Thomas Aquinas. Though short, this book had a lot of information in it and was very much meant to teach the reader. This book is not what I'd term "dense" (as I prefer to use this term on books that are hard to slog through because of academic-ese), but it wasn't the easiest read because it does deal with more involved theology. The long paragraphs also slightly decreased the readability, but it's a short work overall. My favorite part was about St. Thomas' writing on the Eucharist - I was able to learn more about the doctrine of the Eucharistic, so this was a good book for me to read. This is a book to increase knowledge - which can lead to increased devotion, but it's not set up as a devotional. That makes this a good book for those who want to learn more about the facts of the mystery of the Eucharist.

The Holyday Book, by Fr. Francis X. Weiser

This third book in Fr. Weiser's series considers how the Church celebrates holydays and feastdays that are not part of the Advent, Christmas, Lenten, or Easter seasons.

Why I picked it up: I was at my alma mater for a different book, and I figured I'd capitalize on my trip and grab this book, too.

My impressions: This book follows the style and feel of the previous two works, but like those works, has some parts that are outdated due to changes in the life of the Church that happened after Vatican II (which took place after the publication of this work). I have much more about this work in a separate post, but this is a solid "vintage" Catholic book that was a light, easy read.

Greenglass House, by Kate Milford**

Milo's innkeeper parents unexpectedly must host multiple mysterious guests over Christmas break, and he must help a friend solve the mysteries that surround them.

Why I picked it up: This book looked interesting and had a premise that sounded solid to me. I had given up the Audible subscription, so I found this one through the public library system.

My impressions: This book had a lot going for it and I was quite enjoying it until the last fifth of the book. Then things took a supernatural turn and it got sad and kind of creepy. It's the sort of children's lit mystery/adventure that I generally enjoy, with the exception of that last bit. I enjoyed that the book explores Milo's relationship with his adopted parents, as well as his thoughts about and longings for knowing his birth family. The world is both familiar and strange, with recognizable everyday technology but also a lack of standard electronic devices and underground smuggling rings. There is even unique lore for whatever part of the world this is, although one of the tales mentioned something about the devil. There were layers to this tale, and it's a bummer that it left me uncomfortable with exploring the series more. I'm not recommending this book or the series that stems from it, but there were parts of it that I really enjoyed. It was the parts that I disliked that keep me from pursuing the series any further.

The Well-Read Mom, by Marcie Stokman

The founder of the Well-Read Moms book club movement reflects on why reading well - and reading with friends - is important for women.

Why I picked up this book: I ended up getting this book for free (after asking) when I joined Well-Read Moms halfway through the current year.

My impressions: A gal pal and I went to a talk by Marcie Stokman in February, and at first, this book seemed like a rehash of Marcie's talk. It is, and yet it is more than that. The book fit cozily in with all the other reading I've been doing about reading over the last year. I'm definitely planning on drawing from this book if/when I have the chance to do a professional development seminar about the joys of reading. In fact, that was what I loved about this book. Besides talking about the useful benefits of reading classics with friends, Stokman spent time talking about how it's important to just enjoy reading. Just enjoy reading - we don't really talk about that sort of thing in school because we're so focused on students learning the decoding and comprehension skills they need. I can see myself rereading this book just to reread it, even outside of my professional interest in it. I think it's a great book for anyone to read who just wants to read more in their lives. This book clearly operates through the lens of joining a Well-Read Moms group, but there's a lot of good stuff for those (especially women) who wished they read more on a daily basis.

Honey for a Child's Heart Updated and Expanded: The Imaginative Use of Books in Family Life, by Gladys Hunt with Mark Hunt*

An advocate of reading aloud discusses the important role good stories have in forming children, and includes an extensive list of recommended books to read silently or aloud.

Why I picked up this book: I've heard this book mentioned multiple times by the hostess of The Read Aloud Revival podcast. One day, a misadventure of locking myself out of my house while picking up a secondhand table plopped me at a local chocolate shop to beat the heat while I waited for my husband to get home. I got on my local library's electronic app as an ebook, and I decided to take a chance on it.

My impressions: This is another good book that explores the importance of reading - and reading aloud - and includes a sweet list of recommended books. I'll start with the book lists: they are extensive and take up probably 40-50% of the book itself, and include short descriptions for some, as well as indicators marking award-winners. I added several books to my to-read list, and I can verify that, while I'd heard of some books before, many were brand-new to me. Now, I'll go back to the first half, which discusses the importance of reading aloud. I typed out almost two Word document pages of quotes, and I plan to reference this book if/when I develop a professional development talk about reading out loud with students. Overall, I found Hunt's approach to reading and types of books balanced and creditable. She definitely has a Christian worldview, and this is evidenced by her chapter dedicated to the importance of reading the Bible aloud. She talked about her family's experience of reading the Bible aloud in a way that reminded me of my experience praying the Rosary with her family. It wasn't something the kids ever really complained about doing, or saw as overly pious, because it was just something that her family did every day. I believe that reading the Bible as a family at breakfast absolutely worked for her family; however, I'm not sure how it would go in my own. Her description of their process didn't quite convince me, so I'm trying to figure out how much of my questioning is the result of me just not being as familiar with pulling out the Bible every day to begin with. However, I am more convicted of my need to read God's Word more often because of this chapter. Finally, I appreciated that this is an updated version of the book, because it addresses cultural issues that have come up in the last several years. This is a great book for those nerds like me who love to read about reading and want some more children's lit book recommendations. I might look into her other book, Honey for a Teen's Heart, at some point.

P.S. Isn't it funny how finishing one intimidating book on my Kindle suddenly led to me reading another one? I think I felt like I couldn't read other ebooks until the one I'd been low-key working on for two years was done.

Pax, by Sara Pennypacker**

War forces Peter and the fox, Pax, apart, but Peter endures great pain and growth in his effort to reunite with his pet, while Pax learns how to survive in a wilderness made more dangerous by battle-hungry humans.

Why I picked it up: I remembered this book's sequel being recommended somewhere, and since this audiobook was available through the local public library while I wait (#38 in line) for an audiobook version of Hillbilly Elegy, it seemed like a good place to start.

My impressions: This is an engaging story - part survival, part inward journey. The characters felt very real to me, and I appreciated the growth that many of them experience. One character mentioned a Buddhist principal a time or two, and there was discussion of "discovering the truth about yourself" that seemed like it might lend itself to self-definition, but other than that, I didn't notice anything more problematic about the worldviews of the characters. I mean, Peter does run away, and there are complex relationships with family members, but it was that subtle message of possible self-definition and explicitly mentioning a Buddhist principle (rather than a Christian one) that I took greater note of. There's some more difficult scenes, and animal lovers or sensitive readers might have a harder time with this book. The good writing allowed the author to hint rather than say some things outright, so while I know I caught those things as an adult, I'm not sure how much a child reading it would pick up on. I don't know if I'd recommend this book or not - it was good, but it wasn't one that I feel everyone needs to read right away so we can talk about it. I think middle school readers would appreciate this one, but parents might want to screen it ahead of time.

Toliver's Secret, by Esther Wood Brady

When Ellen's grandfather injures himself, she takes on the role of Revolutionary spy to carry a secret message to George Washington's followers - by disguising herself as a boy.

Why I picked it up: Sarah Clarkson mentioned in The Lifegiving Home that this book is a good one to read if people are visiting the American Northeast region for vacation. I found it at the main branch of my local library (yay for free books!).

My impressions: This is a fun tale for young readers (and a quick one for adults - I finished this in the space of just a day or so). It isn't quite as excellent as some other children's historical fiction, at least for establishing a sense of the world as it might have been at that time, but it was plenty believable and enjoyable for me. There is one downside, and it is that, in our very confused world, the fact that Ellen disguises herself as a boy might come across weird. The book doesn't handle it weirdly at all - it is believable that a boy running around docks or making his way on a long journey by himself wouldn't attract as much attention in that time and place as a girl would. I appreciated that, in the end, Ellen felt empowered to take care of problems by herself, but it wasn't in a forced or feministic way - it was just a natural result of finding she was capable when needs arose. I found that one reference was made to bells being hidden during the time of the war, but there was no explanation given - I had to look up information on that, so it shows that one or two things could have been fleshed out a little bit more for the reader. Overall, it was a fine book and one that would likely be enjoyable for elementary readers.

True Grit, by Charles Portis

A 14-year-old girl hires a U.S. marshal with a shady history and accompanies him in tracking down the man who killed her unarmed father.

Why I picked it up: This was a book that my group agreed that we would read for our next meeting. It was at my alma mater's library, the only library I suspect I'll have any luck with checking out the books for this group, if they're available. The public library's copies are always on hold three or four people out when it's time to read them, I've found.

My impressions: This is a story that I've managed to watch two movie adaptations of prior to reading. The movies are faithful to the story. I don't think I've ever encountered a story quite like it. It is original, the dialogue sounds stilted but it works for what I imagine an old-timey Arkansas might sound like. The characters are flawed and memorable and this makes for a really unique read. I don't think it's the best book ever, but it sure was interesting. Even though the story is pretty straightforward, I feel like there could be more happening at a deeper level that I just haven't caught on to. At most, I think my most profound thoughts are that Mattie is somewhat intrenched in the leanings of her personality by this excursion, but she also displays an unstated but fierce loyalty. And it's not wrapped up completely neatly at the end. Due to the violence and questionable actions and of the characters, this book would probably be best for adult readers, although I imagine high schoolers could enjoy this pretty well. It's a pretty solid pick if someone is looking for a Western.

Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis, by J. D. Vance**

The memoirs of a man who grew up in a hillbilly family and his observations on his life and breaking out of the cycle of poverty and violence he was heir to.

Why I picked it up: One of my good friends told me about this book years ago - and she had learned a lot from it. I may have checked it out from the library a while back, but never cracked it open. However, once I realized the author is the running mate for President Trump in this year's presidential election, I knew I had to try it for real.

My impressions: This book is a great look inside the workings of poor, working class individuals and families in the Rust Belt region of the United States. I recognize that no individual is free of bias and that Vance's assessment of the culture he hails from may not be infallible, but it certainly has the ring of truth. He takes a good, hard look at his family, his "hillbilly" culture, and himself. I had heard of some isolated features of this subculture (major feuds based on honor, like the Hatfield-McCoy grudge), but this book shows what this feature - and many others - look like as they play out in real life. Vance certainly comes across as someone who not only has done a lot of research through personal study, but he's also someone who has strong ethos because he has lived the poverty and adversity he considers. Some parts of this book were unsettling and there was great sadness, but he also shows how certain factors created opportunities to succeed where so many of his peers succumbed in similar circumstances. The memoir gives a good background of where the V.P. hopeful comes from, as well as what life is like for some people who don't come from comfortable middle-class backgrounds. This memoir is really for adults, largely because of the adult content that pervades Vance's tale, such as drugs, bad language, and broken relationships. However, I also believe that this is a memoir that many adults will appreciate, regardless of politics. It is a tale of overcoming and a long, deep look into the lives of some of the most desperate and vulnerable people in America today.

Bracket Play




Here we go!

Round 1: I put Bishop Barron's book on the Eucharist in the spot that had no competition. Of the two nonfiction Audible books I zipped through at the beginning of the month, I thought Different was the book that impacted me more and compassionately looks at the lived experiences of a child with a host of difficulties facing him and a parent who walked alongside him as he grew. The two fiction Audible listens from early July resulted in a win for Madeleine Takes Command, even though Paddle-to-the-Sea had its own merits. The suspense of the first book, the plot, and its nuanced look at attitudes and actions of characters from differing races, made it a clear win for me. The book about Joan of Arc beat the outdated and less compelling book about ordinary time feasts and holy days, although I'm glad I read the latter. Pax was fine and probably better written, but I didn't enjoy it as much as Toliver's Secret, the book to which I gave the win. Portis' Western classic blew away its competition, as did J. D. Vance's memoir (no thank you to unexpected supernatural weirdness in cozy children's books!). It was hard for me to decide that last duel, since both books concerned reading and its formative influence. I ended up choosing Marcie Stokman's book since, if only for certain sections, I'm more likely to read it for enjoyment.

Round 2: Eight competitors now in this round. I have to admit to feelings of guilt for not choosing the book about the Eucharist, and I recognize this happens almost every time I choose a nonreligious book over a solid Catholic one. It does not mean that it's lacking or a bad book - I even noted that I learned from reading this work by Bishop Barron. However, the book by the Clarksons had a bigger emotional impact as well as giving me food for thought as I turn towards a new school year. Brill's book won over the Joan of Arc book - although I have loved St. Joan of Arc in my youth, it was hard to read about what really or most likely happened in her life, with many likely myths stripped away and kind of a stark focus on her suffering. True Grit beat the children's book - it makes sense that an established classic (and a pretty enjoyable one to read) would win. I went ahead and knocked out J. D. Vance's book; it was very good, but I connected more with the WRM book.

Round 3: Quarterfinalist winners were Madeleine Takes Command because it was so enjoyable to listen to. I would probably be open to reading or listening to Different again in the future, but it's not as likely to make it to my reread list. True Grit beat Stokman's book - the latter book was pretty good, but it just isn't as good as Portis' book.

Round 4: Finals: The children's book won. Again, I feel guilty about giving second place to a classic, but Brill's book was really good and I'm looking forward to sharing it with my future children, God-willing. 

Summary

All four quarterfinalists are certainly worth reading, in my opinion (the WRM book may not appeal to guys as much), but I'd also like to note Hillbilly Elegy, Toliver's Secret, and Honey for a Child's Heart might be good for their respective target audiences.