December Book Bracket

Two classes I'd been auditing since August ended this month, so I had to decide between reading a lot of books for fun because I finally have the time, or reading ahead on the books that we'll use for the spring courses.

My Reviews

Phantastes, by George MacDonald

A young British noble embarks on a journey through the enchanted Fairyland and has many adventures there before he returns to his old life.

Why I picked it up: This book is by one of my favorite authors, and it has been recommended to me by a galpal and, in a general way, by C. S. Lewis, who I believe found it helpful to him in his journey to belief in God. I decided to read this book "for fun" instead of reading ahead for class.

My impressions: This was a weird book. This highly symbolic, somewhat allegorical, plotless piece follows the main character, Anados, as he travels through Fairyland and has magical adventures. The sheer number of times he came across a forbidden thing and decided to do it anyways was noteworthy, resulting in loss or pain to himself and others. I'm sure that's one of the key themes of the book, but the fact that there was no real plot was disappointing. Some of the descriptions were interesting, but I couldn't tell what the symbolism represented in some situations (e.g., why was most of the Fairy Queen's palace made of black and white stone, but some halls had red lights or curtains in them?). We never met the Fairy Queen, so allusions to her ultimately seemed inconsequential. The tale was laced with many songs, poems, and smaller stories framed within the greater narrative, some of which were poignant, but most of which were strange or downright creepy. The overall impression was one of a mishmash of different literary elements and genres that never settled into a really compelling tale. Certainly, Anodos changed from the beginning to the end of the story, but to little purpose other than to maybe live better in the mortal realm - but even this is brought into question by the implied question of whether he will have to relearn all these lessons in his normal life. I wouldn't recommend this book for reading - there are far better works of fantasy to be read, especially by this author. Creative minds would likely find fodder for their imagination from the various strange and fantastical elements that are found in Phantastes, but I don't think the whole thing would be worth reading for that reason; skimming might be of service instead.

My Imitation of Christ, by Thomas a Kempis, Revised Translation

This spiritual work explores different aspects of the spiritual life.

Why I picked it up: This book was my morning spiritual reading for a few months.

My impressions: The content of this book is fantastic. Reading a little bit to meditate on each morning was the perfect way to approach this book - which was mentioned in the introduction-that-actually-came-after-the-content-of-the-book. I was able to pick out a key nugget that really spoke to me to reflect on throughout the day. I was called to greater detachment, caring less about worldly things, encouraged in my efforts to fight temptation and win the eternal prize, and admonished to strive for greater devotion to Jesus in the Eucharist. I felt some sections were directed more towards priests or those living a vocation in a religious order, but most of it felt very applicable to my life as a laywoman. An interesting connection I made was through my adoration hour spiritual reading, "The Story of a Soul" by St. Therese of Lisieux, in which she references this work as one of her favorites several times. She even wrote that she could recite some sections of it from memory when her aunt started the wording. If this work was loved by an amazing saint, how could I not try to learn from it? I felt called out by some parts, and found that this was a good work for me to read. I anticipate this is something that I'll come back to again in the future...hopefully...so long as I can read through some other spiritual works I have sitting on my shelf. I will comment on my particular edition's formatting: it was a little strange. At first, I liked the vivid illustrations that start off each little meditation, but I eventually found them a little dated, lacking in diversity, and sometimes a little strange. What I would've considered the better introduction and even the table of contents were located at the end of the book, not at the beginning. Oh well. I highly recommend the reading of this book to any Catholic high school and older, although some younger readers would undoubtedly benefit from it as well.

Young Prince Hubert, by Sidney Baldwin

Spoiled Prince Hubert is sent away from court to learn better manners and to judge fairly between peasants and nobles.

Why I picked it up: I ordered this 1930s-era title and another book by the same author on sale from a homeschool curriculum company. I didn't have any books to read ahead for my next audited courses, so this one filled the gap.

My impressions: This is a simple, straightforward book. I think of it as the homely "bread and butter" of my reading palate. It doesn't have a lot of protein-filled staying power, and it might be considered "fluff" by some, but it was a wholesome read. The moral of the story is obvious, but as the book was written for children, I did not mind that. The book floated somewhere between a historical fiction novel and a fairy tale - it lacked details, like a fairy tale often does, but the lack of magic and basic verisimilitude played like something that might have really happened in some kingdom in some bygone day. The writing was nothing spectacular, but there was a touching scene at the end, and I did wonder a little bit about what happened to some of the characters after the story ended. I think parents should feel comfortable passing this book on to the children in their families as long as the reader reads at this level. It's a quick book, so adults who have a mind to pick up something easy in this genre probably would not be too upset if they invested the little time it takes to read and didn't love it.

Princess Hildegarde, by Sidney Baldwin

Hildegarde's life in her homely cottage with Greta and Joyson, and her new friendship with Eric, are interrupted when strange soldiers wreak havoc on St. Anne's Island

Why I picked it up: This was the other 1930s-era book that I bought for a bargain. It was paired with "Young Prince Hubert", both works by Baldwin.

My impressions: Most of this book (about 93% of it) is wreathed in utter mystery. I could not help but compare the two books by Baldwin with each other. I found the mysterious element of this book was compelling in a way that the other lacked, but I eventually tired of it. Like the titular character, I just wanted to know her backstory. It was a little frustrating, especially considering that the essence of the surprise is spoiled in the title (it's hard to really wonder WHO the elegant young maiden with a secret past could POSSIBLY be with a word like "princess" on the cover). In spite of the lull I experienced in the last third of the book when I realized Baldwin was going to hold the real story back until the very end, I found the greater complexity of the plot refreshing after the solid, but extremely straightforward "Young Prince Hubert." The author makes a few attempts to convince her reader that Hildegarde is not perfect; the result is a nearly perfect young lady who, in spite of a few bad moments, still has noble qualities ingrained in her person naturally. I found one character especially - Greta, her nursemaid - was more interesting for the flaws she manifested. Most of the ends were tied up nicely, although one character was dropped out of the story about halfway through and resurfaced only as part of the overall story. This would be another safe read for children who are at this reading level, and it's a fun little jaunt through castle-strewn landscapes that, with the addition of just a little magic, would make a prime fairy tale.

Brideshead Revisted, by Evelyn Waugh

Charles Ryder reflects on his former associations with the Flyte family when he returns to their estate, his company's new station in 1940s wartime England.

Why I picked it up: This book was required reading for one of the classes I will be auditing beginning in January.

My impressions: This is a book that I had not expected to read for another twenty years. I'd heard that it was excellent - one of the greatest books of the twentieth century - and some other comments made it sound like the kind of book that I would decidedly NOT enjoy. Well, I can't say that I loved it, but I can say that I tolerated it better than I had anticipated. The quality of the writing is undoubtedly lovely - but that is not great praise coming from someone who's not that great of a critic in that area. There's not much "action" in the plot (if we are generous enough to say there is a plot), but there is a very decided and discernible motion in the characters away from or towards God. As reviews of the book indicate, it is primarily an account of God's grace acting in the lives of these different characters. This is not a book that I would recommend to anyone - rather, I think it's one of those works that have the ability to grow in its power over the reader with different readings. If a high school - or even college student - just picked it up to read without knowing the "key," I doubt they'd like it. Even a year or two ago, I think I would likely have despised this work. Now, I can say that I have read it and, although I didn't enjoy the work, I can say that I appreciate its point.

The Diary of a Country Priest, by Georges Bernanos

The new parish priest in Ambricourt, France, records his everyday actions, conversations, and reflections in his personal diary.

Why I picked it up: This book was required reading for one of the classes I will be auditing beginning in January.

My impressions: This is a book that needs time for reflection and demands to be visited again. When I was reading it, I had the feeling that, like C. S. Lewis' "Screwtape Letters," this novel would have something different for me to take away the next time I read it. I'm not sure what the main takeaway was this time, but I know I'll be thinking of my relation to the poor in the world and how to look for the presence of God in each person I meet. I worry that if I write more, I will write an entire essay. How do I sum up my impressions of this book? Like "Brideshead Revisited," there is not much in the way of plot - mostly characterizations and the development of separate situations and encounters with different people. However, the reader walks through very personal reflections on extreme dryness and temptation with the diarist. This is indeed the sort of fiction that lets one have experiences of life that might otherwise remain foreign, at least perhaps for a long time. In spite of the diarist's negativity about his abilities, I found him quite loveable, even when he had trouble loving himself. I did wonder how much of his reflection was erroneous (such as when he felt certain he had to keep his dryness to himself, only to realize later that was a temptation) and how much was really correct - this questioning had a strong feeling of verisimilitude about it. I would recommend this book to Catholic adults, college-age and older, who are ready to sit with a book and really ponder it, at least in places. It is a beautifully written work and I think it would be great to return to in future years.

Story of a Soul, by St. Therese of Lisieux

Autobiography of a 19th-century French Carmelite nun who became one of the most honored saints of the Catholic Church.

Why I picked it up: I needed some new spiritual reading and, since her feastday happened (in October), I decided it would be good to reread this beloved book written by my chosen Confirmation saint.

My impressions: Therese's writing has beauty and depth in a very approachable combination that brought me to tears several times. I feel inspired to try to become holier when I read this work. Everything else I could say about this book would be praise of its qualities. I recommend this book to any Catholic who can handle the reading level. I imagine that non-Catholic readers could appreciate this work as well. 

The Cay, by Theodore Taylor

After a U-boat sinks the ship he and his mother are traveling on, Phillip finds himself blind and fighting for survival, and against his prejudices, with Timothy, a black man.

Why I picked it up: This book ended up on my "To-Read" list after it was recommended in another book about reading. I found it on sale at the local Book-a-holic store.

My impressions: This was a fast and interesting survival story that provides its own version of the deserted-island narrative. Written in the late '60s, it took on the issue of racism in its own way, using World War II as a backdrop to the interpersonal drama depicted in the book. The book has the "N" word several times, but it disappears later, keeping pace with the reduction of Phillip's prejudice. Parents might want to be aware of references to voodoo practiced by one of the characters in the book, specifically in chapter eleven. This could be a fun survival book to read or read aloud and discuss, so long as parents are aware of what is in the book.

Bracket Play

The books paired up nicely for the first round: two modern classics, two books of the same historical fiction style by the same author, and two spiritual works. Only the two remaining works of fiction - one historical fiction, one fantasy - were a little mismatched. "The Cay" breezed past the strange and plotless "Phantastes", while "The Diary of a Country Priest" edged out "Brideshead Revisited" as being equally substantial, but straightforward and more comfortable to read. "Princess Hildegard" won the first round against the slightly weaker and simpler "Young Prince Hubert", and the book by one of the best-known "little souls" around won against "My Imitation of Christ."

Round Two was also fairly easy to decide, with the weightier spiritual works winning out - "The Diary of a Country Priest" and "Story of a Soul" facing each other in the final round. Though a worthy opponent, Bernanos' work could not hope to beat the heavyweight champion, "Story of a Soul," which is the best book I read this month.

Advent Songs

 This is a step away from my usual fare; instead of giving my impressions on books, I'm going to consider music in this post.

I've found in the last few years that a key theme of Advent emerges as that liturgical season progresses. Most memorably was the recent Advent where I really tuned in to the sense of longing the Israelites felt and that I, myself, feel (but towards very different things). This year, my Advent theme has been the connection between the birth of Jesus Christ and His death, and this meaning came to me through music.

A Facebook group, from which I gain the majority of my book recommendations, included several threads about Advent playlists. I knew I wasn't doing much in the way of liturgical living this Advent, but I figured I could make a point of listening primarily to Advent-y music, instead of the secular radio tunes that are typical of this time of year. So, I indulged in a free premium Spotify account (I'm going to have to remember to cancel it in February before it automatically renews with a fee) and loaded some playlists. Here were the most influential finds:

I Wonder As I Wander

This song is apparently an older song from the 1930s that I encountered for the first time this year. The singer marvels that Jesus Christ came to die for us - and how interesting it is to hear His birth not mentioned until the second and third verses of the song. The slow pace and somber melody invite the listener to reflect upon such an incredible thing - that God should stoop to such an ignoble level and die for him or her.

Handel's "Messiah"

I have not listened to this work much this year because I've been exploring other music, but I highly recommend listening to the whole work when Christmas or Easter approach. It goes through key prophecies, the birth of Christ, His Passion, and what His Resurrection means for mankind. I suppose one could listen just to the portions that concern the prophecies and Nativity, but I argue it is best to ponder the arc of salvation with this incredible piece.

Sarah Sparks' "Advent, Pt. One"

I was floored when I heard the news that Sarah Sparks, singer of my beloved "Into the Waste" album (music inspired by C. S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia), had dropped (the first half of???) an Advent album. Not every song is gold, but the good ones are stunning. Of particular note for their Pasch-focus are "The King, Pt. One" and "Behold the Man, Pt. One". The "Pt. One"s are tantalizing in their implications (will there be a Pt. Two? and if so, when?), but I guess that is fitting, considering Advent's focus on anticipation.

My Thoughts

I loved having the Passion be such a focus during my Advent because it shows me another reason why Christmas matters. In a society that has appropriated the trappings of a religious holiday and created a capitalist behemoth that focuses on feel-good sentiments like "goodwill" and vague goals like "spending time with loved ones," it was a refreshing reality check to encounter the hard bones that provides the frame of real meaning for this time of year. I think it is important that Christmas points to our redemption - a redemption achieved at the death and resurrection of our Lord, not at the moment of His birth into the world. As important as His birth is, these Advent songs remind us that the Cross completes the story.

November Book Bracket

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

My Reviews

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

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

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

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

My Bondage and My Freedom, by Frederick Douglass

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

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

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

First Draft, by An Aspiring Author

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

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

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

Wild Animals I Have Known, by Ernest Thompson Seton

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

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

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

Stages on the Road, by Sigrid Undset

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

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

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

Bracket Play

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

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

Books Attempted and Put Down

The Walking Drum, by Louis L'Amour

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

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

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

The Benefits of Forced Reading

 A Reflection and a Reaction

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

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

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

Vogt's Argument

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

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

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

Great Books Classes

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

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

In My Own Life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Going Forward

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

 

October Book Bracket

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

The Thief, by Megan Whalen Turner

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

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

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

Beorn the Proud, by Madeleine Polland

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

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

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

Dialogues, by St. Gregory the Great

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

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

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

Paradise Lost, by John Milton

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

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

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

The Hind and the Panther, by John Dryden

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

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

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

Bracket Play

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

Books Attempted and Put Down

Crown of Coral and Pearl, by Mara Rutherford

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

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

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

The Queen of Attolia, by Megan Whalen Turner

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

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

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

Inklings Festival Thoughts

 This is perhaps the third year I have attended an annual festival in my hometown that celebrates all things connected with the Inklings. I took notes during some of the talks and wanted to write them down here so that, if I ever feel the need, I can reference them again.

Talk 1: "Saving the Shire: Ascetic Renunciation and Love of Home in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings" by Richard Rohlin

Well, that's quite a long name. Rohlin is a philologist who talked about what "home" means according to Sir Roger Scruton (not sure who he was, but he passed away recently), but here I simply wish to record the interpretive insights Rohlin provided into Tolkien's most famous works. I weep inside when I hear a pro dive into the deeper significance of literary works because I never get this stuff myself.

- Beorn has a strong sense of his home; it is strong enough that he can name everything that is in his domain. Think of how well you have to know your house and yard not only to know everything it holds, but to know each individual item's name; that's the sort of knowledge I at least assume Rohlin was saying Beorn possessed.

- At the beginning of the book, Bilbo is presented as two halves of a person, not a whole person; this comes from the discussion of the "Took side" and the "Baggins side"

- Whenever Bilbo is feeling stressed or worried, Rohlin notes that he seems to crave eggs and bacon...this dish, or at least bacon, is mentioned something like six or seven times throughout the Hobbit

- Gollum's hunger and his love of certain creature comforts and home are an exaggeration of Bilbo's own sedentary tendencies

- When the dwarves start singing "Far over the Misty Mountains" in his house, Bilbo has a longing for exploring caves and fingering gold - this is a foreshadowing of events that literally happen later in the story (mind blown!)

- Thorin's statement about more of us valuing food and cheer and song over hoarded gold is a synopsis of the entire story of The Hobbit: we start off with Bilbo valuing food and cheer and song, and it ends with Smaug's hoarded gold.

- Rohlin points out that no one ever quotes the rest of Thorin's quote - about how, merry or not, he must leave this life now. This world is not our home, so making our houses areas of complete comfort for ourselves is not the ultimate end for us, nor is it the ultimate happiness even in this mortal life.

- It's not the gold in the story that is evil - it's hoarded gold or treasure that is bad. Bilbo doesn't come to a bad end because he doesn't hoard the Arkenstone - he hands it over to someone else

- In the LOTR, Frodo pretty much says he'd do anything to save his home, but perhaps implies the world isn't worth it to him to save it if the Shire isn't saved. (refer to his quote about knowing the Shire is behind, it's a steady place to stand, even if he can't put his feet there again, etc.)

- Frodo's quest from Lothlorien is a Lenten journey (maybe exactly 40 days?)

- March 25th is the Solemnity of the Annunciation, yes, but it is also the traditional date of Good Friday

Talk 2: "David Jones: History & Sacrament as Home" by Fr. Gabriel Rochelle

I wasn't quite as big a fan of this talk, but the main thing I took away from it is a cool Welsh word,  hiraeth, which means "a horizon that keeps receding" and means longing, yearning for a homeland (that can never be satisfied, by the way), a longing for the present which is not attainable, and/or the feeling exiles have.

Seminar 2: "The Art of Salting Pigs" by Anthony Jacobs

- Pork is most popular for curing, followed by beef, but any animal flesh can be cured

- Salt is used; it's drawn into the muscle, reduces water content in the meat

- Saltpeter is a thing; it increases preservative qualities, preserves the color and changes the texture of the meat (and maybe saltpeter has been used for a long time?)

- When cured meat is cooked it maintains the pink/red color (think corned beef)

- Some cured meats can be eaten as is after they've been cured (some hard sausages, etc.), but some you still definitely want to cook

- The muscle meat is cured more often than the organs

- Can cure the meat, or cure and then smoke it

- Keep cured meat in a cool, kind of humid place; if too dry, you might get something called "case hardening"

- If black mold is growing on the outside of the hard sausage, you should be concerned; if it's only white or green, that's apparently common (just make sure you don't eat the casing - you're not supposed to, anyway)

- A dry cure/dry salting is where you rub salt into the meat or just bury the meat in salt

- A wet curing is submerging the meat in brine, turning it every so often

- When you kill an animal, you have to cut and cure it either before or after rigor mortis; otherwise, the texture is off

Seminar 3: "'Gondolin' & Other Perfect Names: A Philologist's Analysis of How Tolkien Creates a Sense of Place" by Richard Rohlin

I liked this guy's presentations. Good speaker, and a Tolkien scholar (his words, not mine)

- People nowadays get into philology in one of two ways: Scandinavian death metal music or Tolkien (again, his words)

- Tolkien writes The LOTR from the viewpoint of the least knowledgeable character in the scene (often the Hobbits, sometimes Gimli, etc.); this lets us see Middle Earth with fresh eyes all the time (another mind blowing moment)

September 2020 Bracket

 

September Book Bracket

I had even fewer books this month than in August, but I still ended up with five titles. I think reading four books and polishing off a slow-burn read in one month is nothing to sniff at, so that helps me make peace with the fact that I don't have time for as many as I did during the summer.

The Mysteries of Life in Children's Literature, by Mitchell Kalpakgian

English professor investigates the values espoused and explored in children's classics.

Why I picked it up: This was an impulse buy from a TAN $5 book sale that sounded like it belonged in my possession.

My impressions: This book is hard to pin down as to what it actually is. Though written by an academic, it is not (even according to the author) an academic work. There are no lengthy footnotes or extended references to other experts in the field. However, it did have a pretty academic outlook because Kalpakgian goes to great lengths to define what exactly is happening in the works he considers. The result is a work that, essentially, is a primer for "how to get the most out of fairy tales and old children's classics". I wish that the author had defined what he means by "children's literature" from the outset. Based on his work, it seems that only fairy tales and children's books that have been around since before the beginning of the last century really count. I liked that I felt more equipped to consider strange elements of such stories the next time I read them, but without the academic rigor, I find it hard to make much out of this book more than an English professor's long essay about why these books are so great (and why our current society is so messed up). Indeed, the last chapter was rather confusing to me - it was a rant about all the many evils found in our society today and how modern society doesn't match up with the ideals of children's classics. I agree with the author about there being many evils to fight today, but he didn't even say how children's classics might interact with or positively influence the culture other than; he basically said "these books have the right ideals and modern society doesn't". I wished that Kalpakgian had used the last chapter to suggest something of how children's classics might be used to address these manifold evils he outlined, but he stopped before he reached what would have been a very interesting argument. I guess his goal was not to make an argument, just to show and explore. He was up front about approaching the subject from a particular orthodox, traditional moral viewpoint - which I appreciated - but this singular focus actually left me unsatisfied. I wondered how these classics, and this work, would dialogue with children who have not had the chance to grow up on such stories. If I had grown up reading Captain Underpants and Diary of a Wimpy Kid, like many kids do today, would these stories work on me in the way that they already have? Would I have found inherent value in them? This book is fine for just about anyone to read, but the last chapter might lead to of questions from children who are not very familiar with contraception, the abortion pill, and other societal evils.

The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius, by St. Ignatius of Loyola

St. Ignatius developed a retreat focused on meditation on various Biblical and religious topics; it is outlined in this work.

Why I picked it up: If I remember correctly, this book was acquired from a $5 Tan book sale and, as it is a well-known spiritual classic, I felt I should read it. It worked well as my short morning meditation and even better in adoration. Note: The TAN books look nice, but I've noticed that there's a plastic layer that starts peeling off the paperback cover with much use. 

My impressions: This is an excellent book, but it is definitely best read as a source for meditation, rather than a "read it to get it done" sort of book. I think it would be best if used for a retreat with a director for the participant. I had heard of this sort of "Ignatian meditation" before, and that it relies heavily on the imagination, but it was a neat experience to walk through it on a meditation like the evening our Lord was born in Bethlehem. I really tried to meditate on certain parts, but since I like the feeling of being "done" with books, I definitely read it "to get it done" for a lot of it. Some of the best meditations for me were on the Prodigal Son, following the banner of Jesus or the banner of Satan, and the three classes (used a metaphor of sick men who take different treatments, representing those who only give their desires to Jesus, those who give only certain works to Jesus, and those who give themselves totally to God). I also appreciated a section in the second part of the book which discussed the discernment of spirits. In short, this is a great work and I think that just about every Catholic should go to prayer with it at some point in their life. I hope to remember to bring it to adoration with me now and again so that I can take more time with some of the meditations, as appropriate to the liturgical season.

Something Other Than God, by Jennifer Fulwiler

A stand-up comedienne describes her journey from a lifelong atheism to Catholicism in her late twenties, assisted by a supportive family and blog readers. 

Why I picked up this book: This book was available as an ebook through the Formed app and, needing a break from Diogenes and philosophers, this book sounded like something I was in the mood to read. I had heard the name of the author before, but did not know anything about her.

My impressions: The main thing that struck me about this book was a reminder of my dad telling me, "Catholicism is the thinking man's religion." The author's journey to Catholicism was very much an intellectual pursuit. There were some strong emotions involved, certainly, but the author describes her husband as having had experiences of the presence of God, while she struggled to understand that experience, both experiences making sense to me in light of my own life and those of others. I had some minorly surreal moments as Fulwiler described coming to accept the teachings of the Catholic Church because it almost sounded like she had heard the reasons for believing the Church's teachings, which I have taken in since my younger years, and discovered them just so in her own life. For example, when she talks about learning about contraception and why it is wrong, she seems to have come across the exact same prophetic lines by Pope Paul VI that I learned about in high school. I guess my main question is, if this is the sort of teaching that can bring others to the true faith - teachings I'm familiar with - why have I not been working to share it with others? In any case, I found the story interesting and the tone appropriate for each moment - there are humorous descriptions, but they are balanced with moments full of the agonizing search for God. I didn't even know she was a comedienne until I looked up information on her (when I was about halfway through the book), so perhaps I noticed the humor more after that. There were just one or two parts at the end where I thought it was a little slow because she was explaining an aspect of the faith and I, already being familiar with it, wanted to get back to the story. There were some things I was left wondering about (what did she work out with the doctor for medication for a condition? Have others in her family come to the faith, too?), but they are not exactly what I'd call "loose ends". As a book consumed with Man's search for meaning, I think this would be a good book for Catholics and non-Catholics alike to read, probably high school-age and older.

The Lost Prince of Samavia, by Frances Hodgson Burnett

This children's adventure story (in the vein of "Ruritanian romance" - check Wikipedia, it's a thing) follows a father-son exile duo and their friend, "The Rat", as they work for the salvation of their war-torn homeland, Samavia.

Why I picked it up: Project Gutenberg, a website that has public domain books available for free in many formats, is a beautiful, beautiful thing. I enjoyed some of Burnett's other books, including "The Secret Garden", so I knew I'd want to give her adventure story a try.

My impressions: This book was fun, but I think there are multiple reasons why this is not a well-known children's work of Burnett's. Some of the emphasis on the main character's "training" of remembering faces and places and details was excessive, as was the emphasis on how much these exiles loved their country. Some of this is necessary, considering that the entire story is about trying to restore a long-lost prince's descendant to the embattled throne - and who doesn't love some of that strong patriotism for a lost homeland in a good story? But, it was a little much. This devotion to country (and even the son's regard of his father) seemed to me to take the place of devotion to God, even. And speaking of God...there are some elements that suggest a Christian outlook, but there is a distinctly and overtly Buddhist leaning throughout the middle and last sections of the book; this was a big turn-off for me. Largely, I would say it was a book that adventure-lovers like me might enjoy at least a little. It has everything: legends, attempted assassinations, kidnapping, secret signs, spies, travelling all over Europe, and secret meeting places. It was not the best-written book (e.g., two spies randomly show up in two different episodes then disappear from the narrative...if this irony is intentional, it's too deep for me), but fun. It would have been even more fun if the Buddhist elements had been left out, but a brief Wikipedia search on the author revealed that later in life, she had religious leanings into spiritualism and Theosophy, so the appearance of non-Christian beliefs makes more sense to me. I can't say I'd recommend this book, but it's not something I'd necessarily tell a high school student they couldn't read it (but, then again, I guess it depends on the student...how solid they are in their faith, etc.). The reading level is probably appropriate for middle or elementary school leaders, but the questionable Buddhist elements prevent me from recommending the book for Catholic children.

St. Thomas Aquinas, by G. K. Chesterton

GKC writes a short biography of this Doctor of the Church and analyzes his importance and greatness.

Why I picked it up: I read "St. Francis" by the same author earlier this year and wanted to get another book in before the month ended. I finished it on the last day of September.

My impressions: I liked this biography better than the one of Saint Francis. I'm not sure what it was, but the fact that I was reading from a book published by a real company and not a terribly-formatted one printed by some random Amazon.com press probably helped. GKC would definitely not pass a "politically correct" test nowadays, but there's much to enjoy in his writing outside those parts. I got enough of a glimpse into what St. Thomas was like as a person to grow in appreciation for him, but I have to admit that even explaining philosophy to me is probably going to end in me getting at least a little lost; such was the case with this book. I wouldn't say the book felt dated, but it was, in a sense, because it was very clear that GKC was writing to address issues he saw in his particular day - issues that maybe aren't quite as big on the modern horizon now as others all. All the same, I think this is a solid book that high schoolers and above could attempt...but it would probably help to have a good head for philosophy and/or some minimal familiarity with Aquinas prior to reading.

Bracket Play

Bracket play was easily decided this month. The lesser books (Mysteries of Life, Lost Prince) fell without a fight to the very good books. "The Spiritual Exercises" was an uneven fifth book, so it had a buy on the first round and took out GKC's book. I felt it deserved to win because it's such a recognized classic and because I anticipate coming back to it for meditations. The same book won the final round against Fulwiler's book, which was more amusing, but didn't have the weight of Ignatius' work.

Books Attempted and Put Down

Lives and Opinions of Eminent Philosophers, by Diogenes

The ancient Greek poet Diogenes gives a somewhat encyclopedic look at the sayings or philosophies of ancient Greek philosophers and how they lived their lives.

Why I picked it up: I am auditing some courses and I wanted very much to fully read the books that are assigned.

Why I put it down: I'm not putting it down so much as skimming it - and by skimming, I mean skipping pretty significant sections. Quite frankly, I don't have enough time to read EVERYTHING for this class, and I wanted to save my stamina for later works that I think I will find more interesting. Also, philosophy is not quite my thing and, although there are somewhat interesting and even bizarre people described in the work, that's definitely not enough to make me want to read this much about ancient philosophers. (Please don't tell my professors.)

Daughter of the Forest, by Juliet Marillier

This is a modern retelling of the fairy tale "The Six Swans" and set in a semi-fantastic and quasi-historic British Isles world.

Why I picked it up: A bookish friend of mine loaned me her own copy of this book when I expressed interest. I was intrigued by the premise and, loving fairy tales, knew I wanted to give it a try.

Why I put it down: In the wording of my own subjective way of considering books, "it wasn't bearing good fruit in me." I am very affected mentally and emotionally by what I read or watch, and this book ended up being one of the works that I had to sadly part ways with. It was interesting and I loved some of the imagery, but some of the content was too dark for me. It was a work that I wished I could finish. Just as a warning, the book includes rape (I don't know how much detail is involved - I learned this from looking up the book on the Wikipedia entry) and some delicately worded, but still pretty plain, discussion of torture/its effects. Some people can handle this and a certain tone of writing, but I cannot. Mature high schoolers could probably handle this book, but be aware that one character is an unorthodox (presumably Catholic) monk.