Month Off

 I will not be creating a post for August. I read a total of three books, which isn't much. It takes a bit of work to format a bracket, so I'll just double up the next two months to have a fuller bracket and save myself some work. Thank you for your patience!

July 2021 Book Bracket

 July Books

This month, I decided to add a new feature to my book reviews. If I collected any quotes that I particularly like from a work, I plan to leave one in the review. Not every book reviewed will have a quote, but I like the idea of doing something with the quotes I find striking.

I also realized that I have not developed a system for designating books that I know I would like to read again some time in the future, including a work from this month, "Apologetics and the Christian Imagination." Perhaps I'll need to look over the monthly reviews at the end of the year and pick out the works that I know I want to read again.

Lepanto, by G. K. Chesterton; Explanatory Notes and Commentary Edited by Dale Ahlquist

This book contains the 140-some line titular poem by Chesterton and several essays explaining the history and significance of the naval Battle of Lepanto.

Why I picked it up: I wanted to check another item off my to-read list and this was available at the library.

My impressions: I think the poem is well written and has some fantastic imagery, but I don't have the whole-hearted approval of it that Ahlquist and other contributing essayists do. I find Chesterton's descriptions of Muslims and Muhammad...troublesome. I am glad that Christianity was preserved from a dark fate by the victory at Lepanto, but a poem that glorifies a battle between religious forces and depicts one major world religion as in league with demons is, not surprisingly, going to make sensitive me a little uncomfortable. I have some more reflecting I need to do. The essays included as commentary that were contributed by contemporary writers had what felt like a single perspective and I found myself wondering what a modern Islamic author might have to say about the poem or about the Battle of Lepanto itself. I thought that a  balance of views was lacking in this collection. I found the explanatory notes immediately after the poem text were helpful in making obscure references in the poem meaningful. The two essays by Chesterton that were included in this collection nicely rounded out the information shared in the essays. Regarding the poem itself, I loved Chesterton's mastery over language that he shares in this work. He ties together different scenes with different players in this major historical event in a way that is just fascinating and artistically delightful. The rhythm of the poem pounds like war drums and the alliteration - oh, the alliteration! - contribute to make for a very exciting read. I would recommend this book to those who already want to read the poem "Lepanto" so that they really get the meaning of it, but with the note that the perspective is fairly one-sided. I think this would be a great little poem/book study to do with friends.

Catherine of Siena, by Sigrid Undset

Nobel-prize-for-literature-winning author Undset gives a biography of one of the female Doctors of the Catholic Church, St. Catherine of Siena.

Why I picked it up: I don't know if I'll ever be ready to pick up Undset's Kristin Lavransdatter, but I knew I wanted to try this "saint book" by the author the moment it was recommended several years ago, probably on my favorite book-recommending Facebook group page. It was available for checkout at my alma mater, making me grateful, once again, to have a community library card for that establishment.

Favorite quote: "A soul cannot live without loving. It must have something to love, for it was created of love."

My impressions: This was the first time, I think, that I read about the life of a saint and felt bad about myself in comparison with their holiness. I had heard of this happening to other people before, but it has now happened to me. I think it arises from the fact that St. Catherine was so holy that it throws all my faults and attachments into sharp contrast. However, the discomfort faded after the first third of the book, at which point Undset moved her focus from Catherine's sanctity to her sanctity in the context of the politics of her time. This woman truly was incredible, working miracles, living on an hour of sleep each day, receiving visions, calling out leaders of her time, brokering peace between warring factions, and telling popes to move away from Avignon back to Rome. The Lord truly worked marvels through her in her life, but she always felt her sinfulness and maintained humility. The book wasn't slow, but it wasn't fast-paced, either. I liked the feeling that I got a sense of what life was like back then, at least politically, which indicates that Undset did her research. The first chapter was not particularly memorable and actually did not treat on St. Catherine directly - it was more an exploration of women, weakness and power, and the Church, and therefore, more of an introduction. Otherwise, I thought the book was excellent and I would recommend this book to anyone who wants to learn more about this saint (with the understanding that this might not be for everyone and/or may make some readers uncomfortable).

Talking to Dragons, Patricia Wrede

This fourth book in the Enchanted Forest Chronicles concludes the series and the problems begun in the previous book, following the adventures of Daystar as he tries to figure out what he's supposed to do with a magic sword, makes friends, and dodges wily wizards in the Enchanted Forest.

Why I picked it up: I wanted to finish the series and actually really needed to so I could return the book to its owner, who I had noticed was working her way through the series herself.

My impressions: This was a fine ending to the series. I enjoyed the irony knowing more about the situation than the narrator, Daystar, as he goes on his own sort of coming-of-age quest. I encountered familiar characters and enjoyed meeting new ones, although some seemed to have personalities that felt a little...recycled. All the same, it was a fun adventure and, as with the preceding books, would recommend this to anyone already reading the series so long as they are aware of the magic elements/spells that are part of the story.

Tremendous Trifles, by G. K. Chesterton

This is a collection of 39 essays that originally appeared in his journalistic column; they concern random thoughts and encounters GKC had around the year 1909.

Why I picked it up: I'd heard the title referenced before, it was at the library, and it was a thin book.

Favorite quote: “I suppose every one must have reflected how primeval and how poetical are the things that one carries in one’s pocket; the pocket-knife, for instance, the type of all human tools, the infant of the sword. Once I planned to write a book of poems entirely about the things in my pockets. But I found it would be too long; and the age of the great epics is past.”

My impressions: GKC's whimsy comes very much to the fore in this series of essays. I found the first ten or so the most delightful, but then I was ready to finish up the book and move on to something else. I found several well-known GKC quotes are included in the essays in this collection, including the one about not growing a beard in a moment of passion and the oft-misquoted line about fairy tales not introducing bogeys, but introducing the idea that bogeys can be defeated. Chesterton's personality shines brilliantly throughout the essays and I revel in his one-liners and unique way of viewing ordinary things. He does not disappoint and not unfrequently comes to a very profound point after what seems to be frivolous wandering. My favorite essay was the second one, "A Piece of Chalk." I'd recommend this book to anyone who wants some exposure to Chesterton, but is not in the mood for Father Brown mysteries or for his heavier works.

Apologetics and the Christian Imagination: An Integrated Approach to Defending the Faith, by Holly Ordway

Holly Ordway, an academic and professor in all cool things (literature, especially Tolkien's, and its intersection with theology or faith), describes a different angle to approaching apologetics.

Why I picked it up: In spite of the ridiculous number of books to be read that line my shelves, I knew I needed to borrow this one from my sister's shelf for a little while.

Favorite quote: "Literature offers a mode of apologetics in whic hwe can guide the natural human emotional response toward its right end, by presenting truth in such a way that we are moved on the level of our emotions as well as convinced on the level of our intellect. When emotion and intellect are in line, rather than at odds, with each other and both are oriented toward the good, then it becomes easier for the will to direct action toward the good." -pg. 102

My impressions: I need to read this book again. It was a little slow getting into it, but by the third or fourth chapter, I was thinking, "Oh yeah, this is good." It's a book that needs full attention, and there were times when I was not completely focused on it, to my own loss. I've always been intimidated by the idea of sharing my faith with others, but Ordway's focus on incorporating the imagination into the apologetic experience gave me great encouragement. This seems like something I could start with. I like that she didn't say this was the silver bullet of apologetics; rather, it's an aspect that's always been part of the apologetic process, but has perhaps been neglected, and can be of great use in our time. The work gives me the impression that the author has not only done her research, but just sat and thought about big ideas and specific applications and how things played out in her own experiences or in those of others. The one shortcoming I associate with myself (rather than the book) after reading is that I don't have any clear ideas of how to apply all this information, which indicates that a closer reading and/or more reflection is warranted. I highly recommend this book to any Catholic who wants to share their faith, but most especially to those who have a vibrant intellectual life or imagination. I DEFINITELY hope that I'll have time to read this again - and hopefully discuss it with a friend.

The Wife of Pilate and Other Stories, by Gertrude von le Fort*

These three historical fiction novellas by the author of "The Song at the Scaffold" consider three experiences: Pilate's wife and their life in Rome after his fateful condemnation of Jesus in Jerusalem; an orphaned handmaiden learning about love of God and lesser loves in the Holy Roman Empire; and a tale of Galileo's trial and its relation to war-ravaged Italians in World War II.

Why I picked it up: I didn't have the book I was originally reading with me and this one was already downloaded and available on my Kindle thanks to the Formed.org app.

My impressions: Gertrude von le Fort seems to have a formula that she sticks to, but that doesn't mean she's not a good writer. She seems to have a penchant for tales told in a letter formant or via "discovered document," which I suppose allows her greater freedom for including individual reflections on characters and foreshadowing elements. However, the formula doesn't diminish her ability to share keen insights into the human person and the Catholic faith. I found it interesting that a romantic relationship was a big part of all three of these stories, but even that seems to have significance. I most enjoyed the first tale, about Pilate's wife; the second story was not at all what I was expecting, but still good; the third story felt muddled, but that is perhaps because it's hard for me to remember what exactly happened in the Galileo trial, where he went wrong, and where members of the ecclesiastical hierarchy went wrong. I believe that if I had had the facts fresh in my mind when reading that novella, then I would have understood it better. Even if that difficulty had been resolved, however, I think I still would have struggled to discern the main question(s) considered in that story. Overall, I think adult Catholic readers would appreciate these stories, especially if they found "The Song at the Scaffold" is their cup of tea. It is good writing, but von le Fort's points were obvious enough that I felt like I was getting them.

Bracket Play

GKC's poem fell in Round 1 to Undset's saint biography because, while the latter was hard to read at times due to my own shortcomings, I learned much about a Doctor of the Church and was inspired with awe at what God does through the cooperation of His creatures. I also learned about history from "Lepanto", but it was a mishmash of poem and essays and an overall less-impressive work. The Catholic short stories beat "Talking to Dragons" because it was a collection of stories of substance, as opposed to a fun, but fluffy, fantasy. "Catherine of Siena" won in the faceoff against "The Wife of Pilate" because it was a well-written and incredible true-life account of an amazing saint; it did not need to be fiction to explore history or big questions. 

Holly Ordway's book, a long reflection on apologetics and human imagination, beat Chesterton's shorter fun reflections on various topics. Although several of his essays were quite excellent, I ended Ordway's book with the feeling that I wanted to revisit this book in the future, a feeling which GKC's work did not create for me. Ordway's book was the winner this month because of its applicability to my own life, the subject matter, and its thorough, wide-ranging treatment of that subject matter.

Books Attempted and Put Down

A Sand County Almanac, by Aldo Leopold

An environmentalist describes life on his Wisconsin farm across the twelve months and discusses ecological issues.

Why I picked it up: A friend recommended this book and it sounded like a good nature-themed book to try during summer.

Why I put it down: The book, although good in the first part which I had read, moved too slowly and I realized that there were an awful lot of other books I wanted to be reading instead. I may come back to this someday, but it wasn't the book for me right now.

June 2021 Book Bracket

 June 2021

I did not get quite as many books read this month as I had hoped, but considering everything else I've been able to accomplish, six is quite a respectable number.

Miracles, by C. S. Lewis

C. S. Lewis explores the objections of a naturalist mindset to miracles, answers the difficulties, and considers the greatest miracle of all, the Incarnation.

Why I picked it up: I realized that I have not read multiple major works by a great author and figured I better get to it.

My impressions: I admit, I struggled to make it through this book. I worked on it on and off for at least two, maybe three months. It felt rather academic and dry, not very much like other of his works of a similar cast that I have enjoyed, such as "Mere Christianity." Reading it across a long period of time did not help my retention. There were a few comments here and there that I found insightful, but they were often buried in the middle of a chapter of otherwise dull text. This book might be helpful to those who do struggle with the idea that miracles might be possible (or actually likely), but I was not one of those people; I already believe miracles happen and did not need to be convinced. I wouldn't necessarily recommend this book. There's nothing wrong with it from a theological standpoint, as far as I can tell, but a few comments would likely be deemed racist. I might recommend this book to someone who doesn't believe in miracles but is willing to explore the possibility, but I don't know if I'd recommend this work to C. S. Lewis fans or those who already believe in miracles.

Dealing with Dragons, by Patricia Wrede

Princess Cimorene runs away from a dull, stereotypical fairytale princess life and thoroughly enjoys working for the dragon Kazul and having adventures in her magical surroundings; this is the first book in the Enchanted Forest Chronicles.

Why I picked it up: A friend loves this series and recommended it to me after sharing that the series to which it belongs is a comfort read for her.

My impressions: This book reminded me strongly of "The Ordinary Princess" by the way it takes fairytale tropes and flips them on their heads. It was a quick and enjoyable read that poked fun at the genre and gleefully jumped into the unexplored potential of fairytale worlds. The main characters is a lot of fun to read about and the characters, though sometimes a little flat, are very consistent and properly developed. There's not much substance to the story, but it was a fun escape for me while I procrastinated on other responsibilities. There was one part of the book that explained how some character concocted and performed a spell, so wary parents will want to be aware that that is in the book. A witch is portrayed positively as well, but the magic element is not really delineated as good or evil magic; it is the person or creature who uses magic that is good or evil. I would recommend this book to those who love fantasy and fairy tales, but with a warning about those elements; I think it would be about the reading level of middle-to-upper elementary-age students. I'm looking forward to reading the next book in the series.

Night's Bright Darkness, by Sally Read*

Award-winning British poet Sally describes her story of conversion from atheism to Catholicism.

Why I picked it up: This book was available for free on the Formed.org app and it looked like a quick and easier read than some of the other works in my to-read pile.

My impressions: I seem to have read multiple conversion stories in the past year, and this one was solid, but perhaps not particularly memorable. I appreciated that the author was not afraid to voice questions as she had as an unbelieving nurse and that she chronicled the slow process of coming to the Church. She talked about an affair or two as well as a few times she modeled nude for different purposes, so this is definitely a book for adults. I did like that these scenes are not salacious and definitely serve the purpose of laying the ground for talking about theological truths. I would say this book is alright as far as it goes for the genre, but it's not necessarily a book that I'd recommend to others - I'd say Jennifer Fulwiler's "Something Other Than God" is a better read for this type of book.

Searching for Dragons, by Patricia Wrede

This sequel to "Dealing With Dragons" follows Mendanbar, King of the Enchanted Forest, and his adventures with Princess Cimorene as they work to rescue their friend, the King of the Dragons, from scheming wizards.

Why I picked it up: My fortitude failed me when I looked at my stack of "To Read" books set aside specifically for summer and went with an easy read instead.

My impressions: This book was even more fun than the original. I loved the descriptions of Mendanbar's magic as something he could actually see and hold on to - I found it extremely creative. The story is a fun quest and introduces some interesting new characters. I appreciated the connections Wrede made between comments at the beginning of the story and events at the end, bringing it full circle, but not in a way that was too convoluted or interconnected. Again, magic and spells play a significant role throughout the book, so parents and readers who are sensitive to that will want to be aware. Those who enjoyed "Dealing With Dragons" will definitely want to read this book as well.

Jesus the Bridegroom, by Brant Pitre

Biblical scholar Brant Pitre describes different aspects of the Gospels in light of how they were likely viewed in ancient Jewish eyes, talking specifically about Jesus as bridegroom to the Church.

Why I picked it up: I purloined this book from my sister's shelf because it was by an author who's been on my "to read" list for a while. Don't worry, I'm returning this book after I finish this review.

My impressions: I liked being able to dive deeper into different parts of the Gospels without having to take a class or do the research myself. The author is knowledgeable on a variety of works, spanning not just the Bible, but ancient Jewish texts and some very difficult works, such as JP II's "Man and Woman He Created Them," his Wednesday audiences out of which the Theology of the Body has largely drawn. I learned a lot from this book. It was not what I would call a thrilling read, but it was nowhere close to being inaccessibly academic. The book itself is not necessarily what I would consider meditation material, but I think it would be enormously enriching to meditate on the Gospel passages explored in this book after reading. I would recommend this book to anyone who wants to learn more about the Gospels, the context surrounding the Gospel accounts, and one solid Catholic understanding of certain aspects of Scripture.

Calling on Dragons, by Patricia C. Wrede

This third installment of the Enchanted Forest Chronicles follows the witch Morwen and her cats as they join forces with Cimorene, Mendanbar, Kazul, and other characters to defeat the wiles of the troublesome wizards.

Why I picked it up: It was book three in a series I was reading and I wanted something easy after I finished "Jesus the Bridegroom".

My impressions: It was fun hearing the voices of Morwen's cats, but I thought this book was a weaker story than the previous two. There is a problem that a group sets out on a quest to solve, but I wasn't very invested in the action this time, and the plot felt plodding. Some rather major developments happened off-stage (the demise of an important character from the earlier two books, for example) and I was hopeful that maybe the author would come up with a new villain or villainous group, but no luck there. It was nice that Wrede continued to introduce new characters and giving voice to the cats was a clever idea. The ending was not very satisfying (which makes sense, considering that this and the following book make a two-parter), but it did not end on a big cliff-hanger, either. As with the previous two books, those sensitive to magic would want to seriously consider if this is a good book for them, but otherwise an alright sort of adventure. 

Bracket Play

In the first showdown, Pitre's book took home the victory over Lewis's work on miracles, which had been less engaging and less impressive than I had expected, given the excellence of so many others of his works. The conversion story of an award-winning poet had been good, but it was not nearly as memorable as the original book in the Enchanted Forest series, which played delightedly with fairy tale tropes. The final game of Round 1 went to the second book in that series, which was a much more exciting and engaging quest than the third book, which lacked momentum to keep the story moving. "Searching for Dragons" had a buy in Round 2, and the theological work won over fantasy because of its great insights into Jesus as bridegroom to the Church. Pitre's work ended up winning the championship this month because of it's good scholarship and lack of problematic elements (e.g., magic). I may be more likely to discuss "Searching for Dragons" with others in some situations, but "Jesus the Bridegroom" definitely has substance and is deserving of the victory this month.

Books Attempted and Put Down

Three to Get Married, by Fulton Sheen

Sheen explains why God is so necessary for marriages to survive, as well as what marriage is on a spiritual level.

Why I picked it up: This book has been on my to-read list for years and I decided it was time to check it out from the library at my alma mater.

Why I put it down: This is an excellent work, but it wasn't what I needed at this time. I hope to try reading it again when I'm actually married.

 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.