January 2025 Bracket
I ended 2024 with 13 books in various stages of being read, read aloud, and listened to. I tried to buckle down and succeeded in getting about half of them finished, but, of course, I started multiple new ones as well.
The Hotel Balzaar, by Kate DiCamillo*
Marta misses her father as her mother cleans the hotel, but alternates between belief and disenchantment when an old countess shares seven strange stories with her.
Why I picked it up: It looked interesting, and I was able to access it as an ebook through the public library system.
My impressions: The story's beginning and end were pleasantly sparse and well-crafted, but some sections in the middle did not sit well with me. My main complaint with the book was that there was a character, who started as a nun, and then proceeded to abandon and begin serious vocations multiple times. If I were a child, and not a Catholic, I don't know that I would think much of it, but as someone who takes religious callings - either to the religious life, priesthood, or marriage - very seriously, I became uncomfortable and distracted from what I think the stories were supposed to communicate about the character or what was going on in the story. I thought the story had a lot of potential in the beginning, but by the end, I didn't feel the sense of wonder that had been hoped for at the beginning of the book. I appreciated how the story ties together by the end, and I think DiCamillo (a winner of the Newbery award several times) has excellent writing skills, but this book isn't one that really impacted me. I wouldn't recommend this one - I'm not warning against it, necessarily, but it's not one that I would feel the need to tell people, "You have to read this one!"
Mooses with Bazookas: And Other Stories Children Should Never Read, by S. D. Smith*
A hairbrained tale encompassing tales that follows letters from a writer stranded on a deserted island, his desires for rescue, and the tales he finds in caves on the island. (This book was a carryover from last year.)
Why I picked it up: I've read the Green Ember series written by the same author, and when I saw this work was on sale, my curiosity overcame me and I purchased it.
My impressions: I'm not quite sure what I was expecting with this book, and the book didn't let me down as far as expectations go - I'm still not entirely sure what it is. It is stylistically strange and, while likely to get kids to laugh out loud, was kind of painful to slog my way through. And that's coming from someone who loves puns. I think the author had a lot of fun and leaned hard into the fun of wordplay. He isn't afraid to be silly and goofy and grammatically incorrect, and I think some kids might have a heyday with this sort of book. I will say that the last 20 of the book wasn't too bad and wrapped up pretty nicely, but I can't say the work was for me. I'm not recommending it, but I am curious now about what other people think about it. (This book was a carryover from last year.)
Napoleon's Buttons: How 17 Molecules Changed History, by Jay Burreson and Penny Le Couteur**
A brief explanation of the molecular makeup of substances that have shaped our world, and the description of how they affected life at that time and today.
Why I picked it up: Welcome back to the Audible subscription! This one showed up in the app as one that was available to listen to for free, and it sounded interesting.
My impressions: Overall, an interesting read, but with some flaws, not the least of which being the notable increase in zoning out when listening to molecular structure being described. I learned a lot about scurvy, dyes, medicines, and spices, as well as other materials that have shaped the world and helped make it what it is today. I skipped two chapters, one on birth control and the next on molecules associated with witchcraft (I'm guessing it would have focused on the medicinal qualities of some plants, but I'm not sure). Based off the concluding paragraph in the former of these chapters, I believed the authors would have painted birth control pills in a very positive light, and I didn't really want to spend a lot of time learning about the pill. I'm not comfortable with witchcraft related things, period, so I can't speak to how this chapter was handled. Some other heavy topics came up, such as STDs, slavery, exploitation of nations, and others, so this is a book best suited to adults. I thought the book took a look at history from an interesting angle, even though that angle was, at times, biased. I was quite pleased to learn about a wide range of topics, but I don't necessarily think it's a book that I'd recommend. Interesting, but it has its flaws. (This book was a carryover from last year.)
Scruples and Sainthood: Accepting and Overcoming Scruples With the Help of the Saints, by Trent Beattie
This books guides the scrupulous through what scrupulosity is and how they can, through God's grace, work on accepting this cross and overcoming it.
Why I picked it up: I remembered this book being helpful before, and since I'd turned to it now and then to try to look something up, it seemed like it was a good time to reread it in its entirety.
My impressions: I think this is a really good book for scrupulous Catholics (and their loved ones), specifically those who might also have OCD. Beattie at times seemed to assume that the reader would likely also have struggles with things such as excessive hand-washing, for example, and some of his suggested remedies sound like they could apply easily to those who experience anxiety-based psychological disorders. In any case, I found this book good (and it bears an imprimatur), but I took issue with how he worded things here and there. It is a good reference, discussing issues like "when in doubt, it doesn't count," the necessity for obedience to spiritual directors, and sacraments that can be difficult for the scrupulous to participate in, such as confession and Holy Communion. This would be a good book to have in the house if one of the family suffers from scrupulosity; therapists and spiritual directors may like to have this book as well. (This book was a carryover from last year.)
A Monastery Journey to Christmas, by Brother Victor-Antoine d'Avila-Latourrette
A monk shares daily reflections for the Advent and Christmas seasons, drawing from the traditions of both the Western Church and the Eastern Church.
Why I picked it up: A dear friend has mentioned over time that this is a book that she reads every year. I was in need of an Advent book to prepare me for Christmas, and I decided that this was the time to try it out.
My impressions: This is the best daily meditation book that I've encountered for the Advent season. Many daily meditation books focus on the readings of the day, and I have never been able to tell if that makes them applicable only to that year's readings, or to every year. While other devotionals have shorter meditations, this one has meditations that take several minutes to read through. I didn't read it with as much care as I should, but it also meant that, even if all I did was read the selection for that day, I wasn't able to make it any shorter than that. I liked that some meditations took into account specific feasts, some of them being more familiar to Eastern Catholics than Latin Rite Catholics. Going off that point, one of the strengths of this work is that it incorporates prayers, texts, and practices from both the Western and the Eastern Church. I enjoyed that extra exposure to Byzantine prayers, which is something I don't encounter in my everyday life. The monk shares about practices that are specific to his monastery, but does a nice job of making those practices applicable to everyday readers of the laity, like me. All the reflections concern the spiritual life, but the author does well with including some very practical elements that work nicely with the spiritual elements. I recommend this book to anyone who is looking for a good book to help them reflect daily during the Advent and Christmas seasons. (This book was a carryover from last year.)
Robinson Crusoe, by Daniel Defoe**
This grandfather of all survival stories chronicles the long years the titular character must eke an existence out of a Caribbean island after he ignores all advice and signs to pursue a life at sea.
Why I picked it up: My interest in this story kindled after reading The Sign of the Beaver several years ago. I'd read a version of this story as a "Great Illustrated Classics" work as a child, and then tried to read the real deal maybe as a young teenager, but I lost interest in it pretty early on.
My impressions: This is one of those books where I finished it because I was stubborn and felt like I'd invested enough time to warrant finishing it. There were some appreciable aspects, including some more exciting episodes of action (capture and escape from slavery, dealing with mutineers, etc.), and especially his growth in his relationship with God. Crusoe went from being a wayward sailor and nominal Christian to an evangelist to the first non-Christian he's able to talk to. However, while his devotion grows admirably, it doesn't grow far enough. I saw some problematic attitudes towards non-white people showing up in this book, and no clear change in his views of slavery, so some of his conversion doesn't ring true. I think some of these elements were ones which The Sign of the Beaver countered, but they were not really evident until the last third of the book. The survival elements were not as exciting as I remembered them being in the Great Illustrated Classics version - so I'm surprised to admit that, at least according to memory, that version was better. I don't think it's a requirement for anyone to read this book, especially since there are so many other great survival-style adventures written since this one - I'd definitely pick up almost any of those other options first.
A New Song, by Jan Karon
In this next installment of the Mitford series, Fr. Timothy and his wife, Cynthia, begin a year or two of life on the coastal island of Whitecap, ministering to a church that has experienced division and suffering in the recent years.
Why I picked it up: I finished book 4 and wanted to read this one, which my sister-in-law had loaned to me at the same time.
My impressions: Jan Karon keeps doing her thing! This was another very enjoyable book and was coming to mind even in the days after I'd finished it. Karon did well to put the Kavanaughs in a new location, but one that, while it had a different local flavor, still enjoyed that small-town feeling she's mastered with Mitford. She still ties in with the old friends we know and love from Mitford, but introduces us to new characters to care about. She crafts her writing so well, having story arcs that can resolve within the volume, starting some that might span a book or two, and continuing some that will probably stretch for a good several books yet. There's not really a plot - just island life, the daily, seasonal, and yearly doings of a certain population - and yet, I find it immensely enjoyable. Karon isn't scared to have characters who are in very difficult circumstances, and have Fr. Tim come up against some ministry nightmares. In short, she doesn't leave out the dark side of life. However, we come to the end, and it's satisfying and neatly tied up, and yet has me ready to jump into the next book as soon as possible (which I can't, because I'm telling myself I have some books that I must finish before I get sucked into another Mitford book). This book has enough background to read by itself, but it really makes the most sense to just read it in order in the series. Those who enjoyed previous Mitford books will like this one, too.
The Catholic Guide Through Anxiety, 2nd Ed., by Catherine DiNuzzo, M.A., L.P.C.**
A Catholic therapist (who lives in Kansas) speaks about what happens neurologically when anxiety hits, as well as strategies and practices that Catholics can use to manage anxiety.
Why I picked it up: This audiobook was available for free through my Audible subscription. I also recognized the last name, having worked with the author's husband for a retreat once and even attended a talk given by the author at the Midwest Catholic Family Conference a few years ago.
My impressions: This book is a pretty good starting place for Catholics who experience anxiety and want to learn more about it. There is some hesitation in saying that, because I'd be concerned about people trying to "get by" with learning strategies out of a book when what they really need is working with a therapist - but, then again, this could be that stepping stone that gets them into therapy eventually. The work is short, and I think the author does a nice job of explaining neurological processes in layman's terms. Her writing is easy to follow and she uses helpful analogies and examples from her own life. The work sometimes felt a little disjointed because "advertisements" for her therapy practice popped up now and then. The "advertisements" were just comments about her practice, Sacred Heart Therapy, being able to help the reader implement [x] practice, etc., so in a sense, I think it was good that she had reminders throughout the book that therapy is probably going to be a part of the healing process for readers. I appreciated that Catholic beliefs are woven throughout the book, from examining a story from Scripture, to faith-connected practices that readers can use when managing anxiety. This book was fine as an audiobook, but I think that it would be better for people to have a physical copy of this work if they are planning on remembering and practicing the strategies outlined in it. This would be a good book for Catholics and, probably, other Christians who would like to learn more about anxiety from a psychological/therapeutic standpoint that stands on a religious worldview.
Mothering by the Book: The Power of Reading Aloud to Overcome Fear and Recapture Joy, by Jennifer Pepito**
A Christian homeschooling mom and missionary writes about her experiences of reading intersecting with her anxieties, and how those books she read aloud with her family taught her about life and overcoming fear.
Why I picked it up: This book-moir had been on my to-read list for a good chunk of the last year, and I decided to take the plunge and spend an Audible credit on it.
My impressions: This book was pretty solid as far as book-moirs (book-based memoirs) go, but it wasn't my favorite. Pepito does a good job of describing the struggles she or her family faced at various points, and showing how the books she read spoke to her at that point in her life. However, those same books might not "say" the same thing to all readers. While the book follows her life chronologically (for the most part), the books that spoke to her were somewhat random. She begins by talking about Pride and Prejudice, then goes through many children's books before rounding out with a few more intense works...and then concluding with another children's book. The random assortment isn't too big of an issue, but this was another book that seemed to have a lot of plus worked in for the curriculum that the author developed. The chapters ended with a little workbook-style activity, reflection, and Scripture verse to memorize, but I wasn't reading this book to reflect on how childhood books have formed me - I was reading to enjoy someone else's experience with the formative and transformative power of books! It was sometimes uncomfortable to read about how difficult things were at times, and I even skipped most of a chapter near the end because it was dealing with pretty heavy stuff. I don't know that I'd read this book again, but it could probably be enjoyed by Christian mothers. Homeschooling Christian parents would be a more defined audience for this work, but many booklovers could find something to like in this work. (This book was a carryover from last year.)
Eulalia! by Brian Jacques
This 19th book in the Redwall series follows Gorath the badger, beset by the condition known as "Blookwrath," and the creature from Redwall and Salamandastron who fight at his side.
Why I picked it up: I don't usually get the urge to pick up a specific book the way "stress reading" cravings did when I was in grad school, but I definitely hit a point this month when I felt the need to just pick up a Redwall book - and this was the one that called to me.
My impressions: This book was better than I remember it being. I wasn't sure how I'd like it, remembering that it had underwhelmed me on both previous reads, but this was the book that I was drawn to this time around, and I'm glad I was able to come at it with little memory of what happens in it. The book still has some flaws - too much focus on revenge, stronger first and second acts than third act, lack of good character development when there were opportunities (for both the hedgehog Orkwil, as well as Gorath, as he struggles to control the urge to give in to the Bloodwrath). One villain was killed off in a fitting but frustratingly anticlimactic way, almost as if the author needed him out of the story so things could happen in other places the way he wanted. And the editing! For some reason, it seemed as if every instance of a compound sentence that required the word "and" replaced that necessary conjunction with a comma. Yikes! I wonder if it was that alone that prevented me from appreciating the good qualities that this book has. For one, the story gets right down to business - no lengthy descriptions of idyllic scenes to start off the story, and introducing the big baddy and main character right away. And the Redwall intro - in the space of one chapter, we have our main Abbey hero on a rough start and kicked out for a whole season right away. There was no riddling to be solved in this work, which was fine, because there wasn't room for it; this helped prevent the story from getting bogged down in an Abbey storyline that wasn't necessary. Good action, lots of unique characters, but I must say, the characters did feel like they were fitting into types, rather than being their own unique personalities. There was a lot of potential for the big battle scene, but it felt rushed and not quite right - especially some artificially intense bickering amongst the good guy. I didn't love the wise old badger fellow because he came across as a wise guru and felt out of place in a world that seems to usually lean more into a Christian than an Eastern worldview. Well, long review for a reread...I want to end this part by saying that, previously, I wrote in a post about the eras of Jacques' writing, and stated that Eulalia! was in the last era, the worst of the lot - the stale-fails. Well, I now say it's not as bad as the three that follow it. Those who enjoy tales of anthropomorphic animals in a world of adventure will enjoy this tale - including some who may have previously written off this particular book.
Bracket Play
Oof, this ended up being a tough month to decide! Not every book was stellar, but I read some good ones this month.
The first round was easy enough to decide, with weaker books being placed with stronger ones. I gave
A New Song the equivalent of a bye, easily beating
Robinson Crusoe in the in-between place. I opted for the reread
Scruples and Sainthood over
The Catholic Guide to Anxiety, but they are both good, with different but related foci; this book also went on to beat
Mothering by the Book, a book-moir that ended up being less incredible than others I've read. Unfortunately, I had to choose between the book about scrupulosity and Jan Karon's novel, and I gave the fictional title the win. I had enjoyed this book so much that, when it came up against
A Monastery Journey to Christmas, I had trouble just giving the victory over, so I made a note that
A New Song, although it didn't win, was a strong runner-up. In summary, there were some meh books and some decent books this month, but there were three really good books this month, too.
Books Attempted and Put Down
The Secret History of Christmas Baking, by Linda Raedisch
The author explores the history of the goodies we've come to associate with Christmas time.
Why I picked it up: I saw this title pop up on Pinterest, of all places, and it sounded interesting. I decided it would be the book to fulfill a requirement for my Advent/Christmas reading challenge, so I got it through interlibrary loan.
Why I put it down: I'm so glad I didn't buy this book myself, although I feel a bit bad making the library work to get a book I didn't even end up reading. The introduction stated that there would be lots of pagan origins, lots of witches, and even ancient Egyptian facts coming up in the rest of the book, and hints at a lot of dark content, such as injustices performed by mankind in the effort to acquire cane sugar. No, no, and no thanks. I don't think pagan origins would be too big of an issue if there was enough focus on the how or why Christians took over those practices, as shown by Fr. Francis X. Weiser in The Christmas Book, but I sensed that the interest in these facts would not tend very strongly in that direction. And, in thinking of that book, did I find any mention of the strange saga of Puritans cancelling Christmas in this work, and the connections that mincemeat pie had to such happenings? No. When scanning, I found a recipe for mincemeat cookies, but nothing in the table of contents indicated that there'd be any of that history recounted here. I was disappointed that this turned out to be a very un-Christmas-y feeling book, but I felt fine about putting it down. I did, after all, still have 13 books I was working on that were carried over from last year. I needed to get back to those.
The Interior Castle, by St. Teresa of Avila
A saint and doctor of the Church explains the different "mansions" of the soul into which we enter, through prayer, and encounter God.
Why I picked it up: The gals in one of my book clubs wanted to read it, so I grabbed a copy from my alma mater.
Why I put it down: I got bogged down in the fifth mansion with feelings of inadequacy. I've never experienced contemplative prayer, so I felt down on myself for not being as holy as I'd like to be. I found out other people can get stuck in this work, too, so I feel a little less bad about it. It's still a spiritual classic and great work, of course, but I couldn't help feeling like St. Teresa was describing the hard staircase of holiness that great saints climb, and I'm just a wee little one who needs to take the elevator of Jesus' arms to improve. (This was one of the books I had been reading last year.)
