May 2021 Book Bracket

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

Red Falcons of Tremoine, by Hendry Peart

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tolkien: Man and Myth, by Joseph Pearce

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

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

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

The Monster in the Hollows, by Andrew Peterson*

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

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

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

The Warden and the Wolf King, by Andrew Peterson*

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

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

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

True Devotion to Mary, by St. Louis de Montfort

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

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

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

Bracket Play

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

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

Why I Should Research Biographers More: June 2020 Book Bracket

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

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

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

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

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

April 2021 Book Bracket

 

April Book Brackets

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

Invisible Man, by Ralph Ellison*

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

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

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

The Professor and the Madman, by Simon Winchester

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

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

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

The Song at the Scaffold, by Gertrud Von Le Fort

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Books Attempted and Put Down

The Little Grey Men, by E. B. White

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

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

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

Book Bracket

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

March 2021 Book Bracket

 March Book Brackets

I find it ironic that during a month focused on basketball brackets, I have one of the leanest ones to date. I read only four books this month. Ouch. I ended the month with about five books partially completed - some because they were long, others because I was having trouble getting into them.

My Reviews

The Four Loves, by C. S. Lewis

Lewis considers what four major kinds of love are (including affection, friendship, eros, and charity), how they can go wrong, and what they can be at their best.

Why I picked it up: It seemed like it was time to reread this work and get it off my "to read" section of my bookshelf.

My impressions: I think this book is best for someone who has not considered how "love" can mean different things. I was impressed by this work when I first read it in college, but it did not blow me away this time as it had previously. Some of it felt rather like his own private opinion on the subject, and I thought Lewis rambled a bit within the different sections. That's not to say he's wrong about the topics; it's just rather casual, as, I'm sure, it was meant to be. The work contains some hallmark Lewisian comments, and his analogies (e.g., lovers look at each other, friends are side-by-side and looking at the same object) are stellar and make what could be a very abstract discourse into a very intelligible one. I tabbed the most striking and quotable sections as I read so that I can revisit them. I recommend this book for probably high school and college-age readers preferably, but there's no reason an older reader would not love the book.

Silence, by Shusaku Endo

A Jesuit missionary serving clandestine Christian communities in an anti-Christian Japan suffers a crisis of conscience and faith.

Why I picked it up: This book was on the "I should read this book because it's classic, but I hope I never do" list. And behold, I'm auditing a class that required it.

My impressions: It was fitting that I read this book during Lent, for it was a penance, indeed. I can say I found pretty much nothing about reading this book enjoyable. Once again, I feel that this is a book in which I can see there's some beautiful writing taking place, but I have no connection with it or anything more than a cold, intellectual appreciation for such skill. I find stories that involve persecutions in Japan and England are more difficult to stomach than those about persecution in ancient Roman times, and I wonder it that influenced my response to this story. In any case, it's not one that I foresee myself recommending. I certainly would discourage anyone who is not strong in their faith from reading it, as it has an inconclusive, or at least, non-explicit examination of fidelity to faith and apostasy, and the point at which one turns into the other. Even those strong in their faith will not find this book an encouraging or pleasant read.

Till We Have Faces, by C. S. Lewis

This retelling of the myth of Psyche and Cupid is told from the perspective of Psyche's oldest sister, who is ugly but desperate for her sister's love.

Why I picked it up: I have started reading one book a month to discuss with a particular friend, and she preferred this book of the two options I offered her. Also, my sister has encouraged me (and at least one of her friends) to read it.

My impressions: SPOILER ALERT: Beware of reading further if you have not read this book before; skip to the last separated paragraph below if you wish to know my thoughts on who might want to read it. 

Where do I start? I think I ought to say this book shares elements to lots of other works C. S. Lewis has written, but it was unlike any of them in tone and setting. It's his take on a pagan myth, set in a pagan world, but strongly Christian themes come through, especially at the end. I felt like I could detect ideas or characters that would show up, or had previously been explored, in other works - the overly attached mother in "The Great Divorce," the feel of the end of "The Last Battle," and multiple kinds of love - and how they can go wrong - in "The Four Loves." Since I had read that last book so recently, I felt throughout much of the book that I knew what points Lewis was going to make, so I felt I lost out on some potential excitement. However, he did a great job of really pulling the threads together at the end in the second part of Orual's manuscript, and he surprised me in a very enjoyable way. My sister recommended that I brush up on the original Psyche/Cupid myth, and I think that it is a good idea to do so; I referred to a summary of it a few times while reading. If you end up with a version similar to the one I read, you might check the back of it and see if C. S. Lewis' own summary of the myth is included there.

I think this book is good for mature readers, not only so that it can be appreciated well, but also because the characters don't shy away from topics like losing virginity, making men into eunuchs, etc. It's not explicit, but it's not something that I, a pretty sensitive reader, would have been able to handle in high school, and probably not college, either. However, my sister read it as a high school student and really liked it. So, know yourself, and know that this is NOT the Chronicles of Narnia. I also think this is a good book to discuss with friends.

The Good Master, by Kate Seredy

Jancsi and his visiting, wild-mannered cousin, Kate, have adventures on his family farm on the plains of Hungary.

Why I picked it up: I heard somewhere that this was a good book and it was sitting on my shelf for a while, waiting to be read. I also admit that I was motivated to get at least one more book read this month, so I went the cheap route and picked up a shorter, fast-moving children's book.

My impressions: This book was somewhat reminiscent of the "Little House on the Prairie" books by Laura Ingalls Wilder, although set a little later in time (perhaps the 1910s?). We learn about different tasks completed on a farm, from tending to animals to cooking to creating different domestic products. There was not really a plot, but it did have some character development for Kate, which I think helped. However, I did notice that, like Ingall's books, there is some racism incorporated in the story - Gypsies, or Romani people, are portrayed negatively, and even the heroic father, Marton, is depicted as treating them poorly and reinforcing negative stereotypes. One group of Gypsies is shown in a positive light, but they were made to seem different from another Gypsy group. That element left a bad taste in my mouth, but other than that, it was an alright, although not particularly memorable, children's read. I would not necessarily recommend this book to others to read because it's pretty bland, but depending on the line parents want to take on books that include racist elements, it might be something a child could read, especially with discussion of problematic sections.

Bracket Play

Easy bracket this time - the very unenjoyable "Silence" went down quietly against Lewis' discussion of four different kinds of love, and the flawed "The Good Master" lost to the infinitely superior piece of fiction, "Till We Have Faces", which soundly beat the other Lewis book in the second round to take first place. 

February 2021 Book Bracket

 February Book Bracket

I read almost as many books this month as last month, with the help of some snow days and a few shorter works.

The Ordinary Princess, by M. M. Kaye

Princess Amy is gifted with ordinariness by a fairy at her christening, which eventually leads to her abandoning a sumptuous castle life and making her way as a kitchen maid in a neighboring kingdom.

Why I picked it up: I was in the mood for something light and quick in the midst of more serious reads for classes. My second time reading this book, I worked through almost the entire thing one evening after a tough work day.

My impressions: This is a fantastic book and it was just what I needed at the time when I picked it up. Scarcely more than a hundred pages, the book follows a straightforward plot and concludes in a most happy and appropriate manner. The lack of a major problem bigger than her needing to make money to buy a new dress means this book could never become a major musical or motion picture without some serious plot changes (not that I was thinking of that...), but the work flips fairy tale tropes delightfully on their heads without mean-spiritedness. The book includes delightful illustrations by the author and a subtle and scrumptious sense of humor. I could go on naming the merits of this book, but I'll finish by saying I think lots and lots of people, young and old, would love this book. Maybe not so much boys or men, but definitely anyone who loves a good fairy tale about princesses should try this book at least once.

Father Elijah, by Michael D. O'Brien*

A monk is called summoned to Rome during what is suspected to be the end times to combat the evil powers at work through a powerful, charismatic politician who is suspected to be the Antichrist.

Why I picked it up: One of my friends had a delightful idea. Her brother has a friend and they choose a book to read and discuss each month. When she approached me to see if I was interested in the idea, I gave a resounding "Yes!" and then proceeded to hamper the decision as to which book to read because of my waffling between lots of different titles. She ultimately decided on this one. A completely different friend had mentioned that they liked this book a few years ago as well.

My impressions: "Intense" is a term I overuse, but it does honestly apply to this story. I was into the book from chapter one and at times felt like I should probably step away from it for a little bit (which I failed to do well). I occasionally felt that this was basically a spy story, but with holy Catholics as the secret agents; the stakes couldn't possibly be higher, with the eternal salvation of billions of souls hanging in the balance. There were definitely some creepy moments in the book - but that's not unexpected, considering the book is inundated with references to the biblical Book of Revelation and the crux of the problem involves the devil's forces at work in the world. Some of the creepiness arose from the fact that the world we live in seems to hold some similarities to the apocalyptic world O'Brien has created. Some parts edged towards what I would call "gory", so beware of that if you are sensitive to blood, etc. Most violence happened "off-stage", as it were. I thought the author handled some troublesome scenes rather well - one being a bedroom scenario, and the other a revealing of a character's past sinful actions. These were described, but definitely not in graphic detail. Rather, it was just enough to get the author's ideas across, I think. There was one part - an attempt to convert a soul - that felt robotic to me at the parts where Father Elijah tried to reason with arguments for faith - but other parts of the same interaction were compelling. This is so very clearly a Catholic work of fiction, but minus the one slightly preachy scene, I felt this was just a good story. This is a book that makes one think. I wouldn't recommend it to people who are very sensitive to what they read (I thought about putting it away for a while at one point because it what messing with my thoughts a little bit) or might become anxious over fictional end-of-the-world scenarios, but otherwise, I think college-age Catholic readers and older could handle this book. I'm really not sure what a non-Catholic would think of the work.

Not God's Type: An Atheist Academic Lays Down Her Arms, by Holly Ordway*

An anti-Christian professor of literature opens up to considering the existence of God when challenged by an excellent Christian, her fencing coach, and eventually professes faith in Christianity and Catholicism.

Why I picked it up: I was procrastinating and trying to avoid reading the next chapter of a philosophy book for a class, and I'd recently ordered her newest book as a gift for a friend, so checking out her ebook sounded good to me.

My impressions: Ordway was up front about the fact that what she had written was not the word-for-word retelling of exactly how everything in her journey to faith had happened, and I appreciated that. I found the structure was not straightforward chronologically, and while that was not off-putting to me, it didn't appear necessary, either. Ordway's conversion experience seems to me to have been a natural progression from one point to the next (e.g., from considering the existence of God at all to other tenets of faith, including the Resurrection of Jesus). Her story shows how God can find his way into cracks in the human heart through Beauty (poetry) as well as Truth (reasoned arguments). I love the fact that Ordway is a big literature nut and loves many of the same authors I do, including Lewis and Tolkien. I think this is a nice, but not particularly impressive account of conversion. I can't help but mentally compare it to Jennifer Fulwiler's "Something Other Than God." Though this work was definitely a faster read, I would say that Fulwiler's account is more engaging as a story. This book would be fine for anyone high school-age and older to read, Catholic and non-Catholic alike.

The Way of Trust and Love: A Retreat Guided by St. Therese of Lisieux, by Fr. Jacques Philippe

Fr. Philippe explains the central messages of Little T's life, which is primarily trusting in and loving God, and loving others.

Why I picked it up: This book was recommended spiritual reading and a natural next pick after I finished Fr. Philippe's "Searching For and Maintaining Peace". I finished rereading Little T's "Story of a Soul" within the last few months.

My impressions: This is a very excellent read and a good follow-up to "Story of a Soul." It was a little less impressive than Philippe's "Searching for and Maintaining Peace," but still a very good read. Fr. Philippe drew from Therese's letters as well as her autobiography, so I liked the feeling that I was getting a full picture of her message. It was clear from the beginning that this is a saint whose life Fr. Philippe has spent a lot of time thinking about. I recommend this book to anyone who has read "The Story of a Soul". This review is much shorter than it ought to be because there was a multi-week delay between me finishing the book and me writing my thoughts on it. Let this be a lesson to me for the future.

Eight Cousins, by Louisa May Alcott

Orphaned Rose is adopted by her uncle and raised in the vicinity of seven boy cousins. resulting in many life lessons learned and delightful adventures enjoyed.

Why I picked it up: I had some extra time from snow days, but if I'm honest, I'll admit that I was procrastinating on reading a book for class. The same book has been jilted all month long.

My impressions: As a person with many, many cousins, I found the premise of this story delightful. It is a sweet story about a very gloomy, sad girl finding vivacity as she encounters her cousins and undergoes her uncle's "experiments," which are merely his methods for raising her into a virtuous human being. There were some concerning racist stereotypes that make me think this work is definitely a product of its time. There were a few eyebrow-raises regarding a prank using a skeleton and perhaps some religious items or idols brought back from travels to decorate the house, but these latter grievances were pretty minor - most of the book is safe. I was a little disappointed that so much of the focus was on Rose because it makes me conclude this book probably wouldn't be as much enjoyed by boys, but I think there's enough of the fun boy cousins to make it endurable for some lads. I honestly wish the boys had had more "screen time" in the story because they were so entertaining. Alcott certainly can create delightful characters! I felt some loose strings were left untied at the end, but not to worry - the threads were picked up again in the sequel. I think this book would be a pretty safe read for upper elementary kids, but it's not a wholesale endorsement. This book makes me want to try to think up a storyline that could better employ a situation in which multiple very close first cousins find themselves in interesting scenarios.

Rose in Bloom, by Louis May Alcott

Rose returns from two years abroad to settle to philanthropic work at home and finds she has to navigate social temptations and romantic interest from multiple quarters - including several cousins.

Why I picked it up: Same story as the previous Alcott book: snow days and procrastination.

My impressions: This is a sweet little romance if you can get past the first-cousin business (eww). I actually ended up skipping some of the more romantic parts since my brain couldn't handle it at this time, but I think it's a pretty "safe" book as far as that goes, objectively speaking. Just beware if, subjectively, you get emotionally caught up in that sort of thing; not necessarily safe in that case. Once again, it was a delight to see these characters, how they changed, and how they had stayed the same. I did cry pretty hard over an unexpected tragedy in the book, but I recovered from it okay. Some parts, especially at the beginning, did feel kind of "preachy" since the characters spent so much time talking about what makes for good raising of children, making good decisions, etc. Actually, that goes for "Eight Cousins", too, but it seemed more blatant in this book; maybe I'd just been reading Alcott long enough to really notice it. Who knows. It was a bit of a bummer to see the focus shift so much to relationships after the good camaraderie of the prequel, but the change is understandable. I don't really know what age I'd recommend for this book; just know yourself if romantic stories can be a trouble area. Maybe it wouldn't matter much to a younger reader; I anticipate girls would probably like this book more than boys. It's not as good as Alcott's "Old-Fashioned Girl."

The Unity of Philosophical Experience, by Etienne Gilson

French philosopher considers Western philosophical errors, namely, trying to answer philosophical questions with other fields, including theology, math, science, and psychology.

Why I picked it up: This was required reading for my audited philosophy course.

My impressions: This is the oft-jilted book that has been mentioned in most of the previous descriptions as the book I was procrastinating on by reading other books. Philosophy is not my favorite. It was very helpful to know Gilson's structure heading into the book (i.e., only philosophy should be used to solve philosophical problems; otherwise, it leads to moralism and skepticism). It was still not an easily-readable work, but I pushed through, if only to add this book to the list of completed books for this month. One of the main things I liked about this book was that Gilson explained what these different philosophers thought, how their thinking progressed from idea to idea, and changed over time, and what their followers developed from their original ideas. It was a good overview of lots of different philosophers without having to sit down and struggle through their original tracts. Granted, that requires trusting the author to interpret and analyze all those various philosophies correctly, but it was a good way to introduce me to philosophers more modern than the ancient Greeks. I would not recommend this book to anyone unless they love philosophy and read it for fun.

Bracket Play

I paired weaker books with stronger books in the first round, resulting in easy wins (as usual). I ended up choosing the original Alcott story about cousins over the sequel mostly based on overall impressions, rather than any real merit found in one or the other. It was pretty easy to pick the interesting and intense "Father Elijah" over the philosophical work. The Fr. Jacques Philippe book definitely won against the autobiographical conversion narrative, although Ordway's book was good in its own way. Due to the odd number of books, I gave the delightful "Ordinary Princess" a buy to Round Two.

Round Two was also fairly easy to decide, with M. M. Kaye's book coming in fresh and sweeping up the fun, but run-of-the-mill "Eight Cousins." The spiritual work beat the spiritually-involved fiction work.

However, Round Three was a hard-fought battle. I told myself I wasn't going to have a tie, but here we are. I gave "The Ordinary Princess" a double asterisk in an attempt to remind myself that, when it comes down to it, I enjoyed and remembered this one more. Philippe's book did result in some positive change in my life - I'm reading the Bible more than I did before - whereas Kaye's book was invigorating for only a short while, soon to be left behind, with no lasting impact on my life. However, reading Kaye's book was an electric experience, and just what I needed, that I couldn't relinquish the victory to Philippe's book. Perhaps I'll be able to look back on this with more detachment in December when I run stats on my books.

Encountering Poetry

 In early February, I had the opportunity to attend a poetry event connected to a Great Books class that I am auditing. The presenter, Joshua Sturgill, is a local, published poet connected with Eighth Day Books, my favorite bookstore. I attended in person, took many notes, and asked many questions. It was a fantastic experience and I'd like to record my takeaways here.

Itinerary

Sturgill introduced himself and gave a lecture on what poetry is. He took questions throughout and at the end of the lecture, and then moved to the second part of his presentation, which included the reading/recitation of three nearly-completed poems that will be included in a soon-to-be-published collection of new poetry called "Now a Major Motion Picture".

Part 1a: Introduction and Poetry Theory

Sturgill explained that he is an Orthodox Christian and has a master's degree in what I think he said was Asian/Eastern literature, or something along those lines. (I'm kicking myself for not writing down exactly what it was.) The way I benefited most from this lecture was what I would call his version of poetry theory. I considered this theory to be his philosophy on what poetry is; insofar as it is a philosophy or perspective, I think it is something that can be adopted or not. However, it is a perspective that made lots of sense to me and that I think has really opened up some vistas into appreciating poetry.

Sturgill said that the characteristics of poetry are as follows:

- poetry recognizes the limits of language

- it seeks to communicate truth in a limited form

- it is analogical

    a. [x] is itself because it is like another thing (analogy)

    b. it is interested in the relationship between things

- relationship is key

    a. for example, epic poetry: composed by the bard for a community, recited within a community context

    b. "A good poet speaks to and for the community." -Sturgill

    c. "Poetry becomes the property of the community once it's presented." -Sturgill

- poetry is concerned with sounds, shape, and meter of words; therefore, it is necessarily meant to be heard

This poetry theory means so much to me because it gives direction to understanding and appreciating poetry. Its a far cry from my literary criticism course in college, which very much seemed to approach literature and poetry with the perspective that they can mean whatever we think they do, so long as we have evidence to back it up. With Sturgill's lecture, I discovered a way past the stultifying subjectivism of personal interpretation of poetry. 

"What does the poem mean?" 

"Who knows?" we respond. "Does it matter, if we can make up any meaning we want?" 

Just having the "key" that poetry is analogical enables me to feel like I can better appreciate many poems.

Part 1b: Other Random Notes

- up to 2/3 of Holy Scripture is poetry

- lots of early Church writings are poetic

- the ancient world didn't divide between poetry and prose; we have a more artificial delineation nowadays

Part 1c: Suggestions

Suggestions for appreciating poetry:

- slow down; poetry deserves your time

- read it together, in a community

- get to know one poet at a time

- if one wants to get into poetry, obtain collections of poetry (especially "best of" collections)

- My question: How can we appreciate the poetic sense of Holy Scripture when we can't appreciate the rhyme, meter, etc. of the translations? How do we develop the poetic sense of Scripture?

    a. Answer (from professors): Immerse yourself in the Scriptures, read the Church Fathers (Patristics)

Suggested poets that Sturgill enjoys reading (not all-inclusive):

- Ted Kooser

- Gregory Orr

- Paul Mariani

- Edna St. Vincent Millay

- C. P. Cavafy (modern Greek poet)

- George Seferis (modern Greek poet)

Suggestions for writing poetry:

- Don't be afraid to put away a poem for a while and come back to it

- I think there were other suggestions, maybe including reading other poets, but I can't remember them

Part 2: Reading of Poems

A few takeaways:

- It's really cool to hear the poet read his poems

- I liked listening to the poems two times through to begin with, one time reading through it, the other listening and considering

- Having the background of how the poet developed the poem was really helpful to me understanding the poem. I wish all poems had that sort of context

- I learned one doesn't necessarily "get" a poem completely - I thought I did for one, but Sturgill said that he still quite doesn't "get" the poem. That was a learning moment for me - but it doesn't change the fact that multiple analogies clicked for me at a certain moment, so in one sense, I did "get" it a bit better.

January 2021 Book Bracket

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

My Reviews

The Silence of Saint Thomas, by Josef Pieper

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

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

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

The Silver Branch, by Rosemary Sutcliff

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

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

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

Catholic Literary Giants, by Joseph Pearce*

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

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

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

Seeds of the Word, by Bishop Robert Barron

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

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

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

Mossflower, by Brian Jacques

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

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

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

Searching for and Maintaining Peace, by Father Jacques Philippe

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

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

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

Bread in the Wilderness, by Thomas Merton

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

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

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

The Hidden Treasure of Glaston, by Eleanore M. Jewett

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

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

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

Bracket Play

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

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

Books Attempted and Put Down

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

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

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

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

Frankenstein, by Mary Shelly

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

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

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