Captive Thoughts Book Club

March selection: The Blue Star

2012-02-18T18:01:00.001-05:00

We read Tony Earley's charming Jim the Boy the first year of this club's existence. Now we turn to its sequel, The Blue Star. About the two books, a New York Times reviewer wrote:

In an interview eight years ago, Earley described Jim the Boy as “a children’s book for adults,” and The Blue Star has a similar feel. It’s such a deceptively simple strategy — to take the unembellished storytelling style of children’s literature and to bend it to adult themes — that many novelists will feel like smacking themselves on the side of the head for not having thought of it themselves. But it is no easy feat, especially to stay inside the hazard lines of sentimentality.

USA Today says:

I'm happy to report that Earley's The Blue Star works as a sequel and a lovely coming-of-age story that can be savored on its own.

Earley's debut dealt with a year in the life of 10-year-old Jim Glass, guided by a widowed mother and three bachelor uncles in a tiny North Carolina town during the Depression.

The sequel covers Jim's senior year in high school. He's come to "appreciate that there were no older boys. He and his friends were it."

It opens in the fall of 1941, three months before Pearl Harbor. World War I still is thought of as "The Great War."

Discussion questions

Review: February selections

2012-02-18T17:38:00.000-05:00

The Michigan Murders, by Edward Keyes, lived up to its billing as a classic in the true crime genre. How does a writer maintain suspense throughout a book when the reader knows from the outset the killer's identity, the fact he was caught and convicted, and that he sits in prison to this very day? Right up to the verdict I was convinced he might somehow get off!

The "Coed Murders," as they were known, occupied vague space in my girlhood memory. It is satisfying now to have those recollections demystified without the tale losing any of its power to alarm. How different Michigan was before the killing spree began -- hitchhiking a routine travel option, doors left unlocked. John Norman Collins stole a piece of our innocence. It was good to be reminded of something I knew, but of which I was barely aware.

I think Keyes succeeded because he patiently registered the humanity of the tale -- the quaintness of his usage of pseudonyms for the killer and victims, the normalcy of lives interrupted by a loss or horrible discovery, the near misses of dedicated and diligent policemen, the methodical building of a case, and the anxiety over the possibility of acquittal. How in the world did police ever solve cases without cell phones and DNA evidence?

My one disappointment was in the new epilogue for this special edition, by Laura James. I expected she would update us on how DNA evidence pointed to a different killer for the 3rd victim, Jane Mixer (a.k.a. Jeanne Holder). And how an 8th victim (counting the one in California) has been tied to Collins -- Eileen Adams, kidnapped from Toledo and found in Ypsilanti in 1967. This information I came up with via Google search. I was left wondering whether any other remaining evidence from the unsolved murders had been submitted to modern tests.

Stiff: The Curious Live of Human Cadavers, by Mary Roach, left much more to be desired, at least according to half our group. I expected to be let in on the secrets of autopsy and forensic science, but instead was "treated" to the author's self-absorbed insights, annoying asides, wild tangents, inane observations, and sick humor. To my thinking, she belongs in the order of a Jack Kevorkian for all her fascination with the macabre. I just couldn't feel as she did about her subject.

I'm not more squeamish than most, but admit I stopped reading one chapter short of the one on cannibalism lest one eye detect a single vowel therein. (I cannot abide any mention of Hannibal Lector or The Silence of the Lambs.) Yet I think I approached the book with an open mind. We discussed it as a matter of respect, and again I think we differed on whether the author shares that sense. I did sense, however, that the people she interviewed -- in the various labs and morgues and mortuaries -- did have respect for the human dead.

Still, her chapter on how death is determined and currently defined was enlightening. Plain English is helpful for understanding a topic so vital to questions raised by organ donation and end-of life care.

Review: Life of Pi, by Yann Martel

2012-01-21T16:51:00.002-05:00

How did Pi survive? By learning to live with a tiger, or learning to kill a cannibalistic cook? That is the question.

Pi's questions -- Which is the better story? Which do you prefer? -- throw us off. Any answer to these questions are pointless, except to show the bent of the reader's mind. I'm more interested in the author's mind.

Answering Pi's questions does, however, seem to be the task he wants us to undertake. In his not-to-be-missed essay, "How I Wrote Life of Pi", Yann Martel reveals that his theme is "that reality is a story and we can choose our story."

To me that exercise is less interesting than contemplating the one "fact" we know: Pi survived longer than any other castaway. Was it survival of the fittest? Or was it part miracle, part human domination of nature? Is it an evolutionary tale, or a tale of biblical dominion?

Strangely, the tale without animals is more about natural selection than the one with animals. It's more brutal and hopeless. Man is just another animal. There is more evil in it -- the French cook kills for no reason -- without an explanation for evil. In fact, could that be the point of the book, that evolution has no explanation for evil (or for good)?

The story with animals takes care to not attribute evil to them -- they're just acting by instinct, yet that instinct can be curbed and molded to the will of the subduing human. That's why it's much more hopeful, and why, I believe, Pi survives. It's not so much that Pi survives in spite of the tiger (and the hyena), but because of them. They keep him sharp. Richard Parker gives him purpose, an object to admire and even love.

This is why descriptions of the book can be so oxymoronic. Life of Pi is a book of terrible beauty. It is both horrifying and delightful.

And this is why the story with animals is better, and the one I prefer. Could it also be why it's the one that sparks the imagination most, inspiring such stunning visual depictions? I hear they're making a movie.

Illustrations: http://education.theage.com.au/cmspage.php?intid=136&intversion=268; http://www.hollywoodnews.com/2011/06/02/hobbit-news-triggers-release-date-shift-for-life-of-pi/; http://thesefleetingmoments.deviantart.com/#/d1sokfl. Find more by Googling "Life of Pi."

Next up: Stiff and The Michigan Murders

2012-01-21T14:32:00.001-05:00

For 2,000 years, cadavers -- some willingly, some unwittingly -- have been involved in science's boldest strides and weirdest undertakings. Stiff, by Mary Roach, is an oddly compelling, often hilarious exploration of the strange lives of our bodies postmortem. (Her latest book is Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void, which also looks interesting.)

Southeastern Michigan was rocked in the late 1960s by the terrifying serial murders of young women, whose bodies were dumped in Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti. In each case, few clues were left at the scene, and six separate police agencies were unable to end the horror. Then, almost by accident, a break came. Edward Keyes wrote the true-crime story, The Michigan Murders, which will be a second February selection.

Review of Home, by Marilynne Robinson

2011-11-28T19:38:00.001-05:00

This book illustrates the dichotomy between the idea of home and its reality. "Home" the idea might evoke feelings of comfort, safety, companionship, desire fulfilled; synonyms such as "refuge," "shelter," and "haven" come to mind. Who wouldn't want to live there?

The book shows that a home might actually be a place of discomfort, disappointed and stifled longing, and misunderstandings; if not a place of outright danger it might house prickly-edged sensibilities that must constantly be circumvented or soothed.

The Boughton home is the latter, as much as the old man and his grown son and daughter long for it to be the former. The distant past -- the lore and furniture of ancestors -- encroaches and cannot be removed. Glory and Jack are clearly not "at home" there.

Page 102: "He lets us wander so we will know what it means to come home. What does it mean to come home?"

Page 282: "What kinder place could there be on earth, and why did it seem to them all like exile? Oh, to be passing anonymously through an impersonal landscape! Oh, not to know every stump and stone, not to remember how the fields of Queen Anne's lace figured in the childish happiness they had offered to their father's hopes, God bless him."

It's not, of course, that the current occupants are bad people or don't try to be a family. Indeed, they work very hard at loving each other, but are constantly thwarted because their own more immediate and unavoidable pasts join the fussy, dark curtains in crowding out the sun.

Experience had taught [her parents] that truth had sharp edges and hard corners, and could be seriously at odds with kindness. They had learned that excessive devotion to even the highest things seemed and probably was sanctimonious, and that the one sufficient measure of excess was that look of annoyance, confirmed in themselves by a twinge of embarrassment, that meant the line had been crossed. They recognized grace in the readiness of the darkest sinner to take a little joke, a few self-effacing words, as an apology. This was something her father in particular, who was morally strenuous but sociable, too, had learned to appreciate cordially. Truly there were perils on every side in the pastoral life, and her father was wary of them all. (page 17)

Kindness, however, was one of the things that irked Glory. She found her black-sheep brother too polite as he tip-toed through the minefield, and her father too quick to forgive (before he had been able to reconcile his tone of voice with the intent of his heart). Rev. Boughton had taken the view that a man's "crime was his punishment."

Maybe great sorrow or guilt is simply to be accepted as absolute, like revelation. My iniquity/punishment is greater than I can bear. In the Hebrew, her father said, that one word had two meanings and we chose one of them, which may make it harder for us to understand why the Lord would have pardoned Cain and protected him, and let him go on with his life, marry, have a son, build a city. (page 101)

The most telling line is on page 247: "Her family was slower to forgive a failure of discretion than they were to forgive most things actually prohibited in Scripture."

The father believed his prodigal was grieved to not belong, lonely in the midst of a large and boisterous family. "How could I be angry at that?" he says to Jack. Taking responsibility, he says, "I should have known how to help you with it."

No, it's not that this is a bad family, a miserable household. It's just very realistically drawn. Robinson patiently includes every gesture and eye-blink to convey how fraught with hazard love/home can be.

Jack cleared his throat. "It's been good to be home. It really has."

The old man raised his eyes and studied his son's face. "You've never had a name for me. Not one you'd call me to my face. Why is that?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't know, myself. They all seemed wrong when I said them. I didn't deserve to speak to you the way the others did."

"Oh!" his father said, and he closed his eyes. "That was what I waited for. That was what I wanted." (page 311)

At first I read into it the idea that what was wanted was the admission, but that seemed cruel, and the father was not cruel. What he wanted was the naming, to be known as "father" by the much-beloved son. He wanted his son to resume his proper place, to request -- even demand -- the fatted calf.

Home is a place we presume to belong, where we are accepted for ourselves.

Reviews of Lilith, The Man Who Was Thursday

2011-10-29T17:38:00.000-04:00

Wordsmith and I had read these books in the past, and both found them to be quite different from what we recalled. Perhaps that's owing to their dreamlike qualities.

It's a genre I don't find tremendously appealing, but the books are very readable. There's enough in them to grasp hold of, to keep you from feeling that just anything can happen, as in the dreams we remember upon waking. The Man Who Was Thursday, by GK Chesterton, is subtitled "A Nightmare," but it hadn't seemed so "wild" the first time I read it. What I remembered was its suspense and intelligence. This time through I noticed more its humor.

My strongest impression of Lilith, (George MacDonald) from the first reading was the delight I felt in the Little Ones, a feeling shared with the narrator. They had awakened in him a protective, nurturing feeling, and that was something to which I could relate. But I had completely forgotten everything about the ending. More about forgettable endings later.

So, it's good to read things more than once, years separated, because you bring to them a different sensibility and you might learn more of what the author had in mind. For instance, as a young person when I read Lilith, I would not have been keyed in to all the epistemological and existential questions that the book asks and answers (Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I? How do I know what's real? What should I do? What happens when you die?). It's not that I wanted to learn the answers this time around, but that I could recognize them and see what MacDonald was trying to do.

A few important thoughts we took away from it:

Vane, the narrator, wants to be the hero in his own story. That's a fair assumption for a main character, but it's not to be the case here. He eventually learns the folly (vanity) of it.

At the beginning of the story, he's told that doing something -- seemingly any decisive deed -- will turn the strange world in which he finds himself into his home. He imagines himself capable of knowing what to do and bringing it to pass, but errs by resisting what is asked of him -- obedience, belief, dying.

He, like every one of us, thinks dying is what you do at the end of life, but it's really the beginning -- here and in the world MacDonald creates. Time and again Vane is implored to lay himself down -- die to self -- but it's so hard. Proper dying is surrender to the Maker's will, not to self-loathing or despair.

A few important quotes from Lilith:

When one says to the great Thinker:--'Here is one of thy thoughts: I am thinking it now! that is a prayer--a word to the big heart from one of its own little hearts.'

[T]o understand is not more wonderful than to love.

In this world never trust a person who has once deceived you. Above all, never do anything such a one may ask you to do.

You lost your chance [to love the Little Ones], Mr. Vane! You speculated about them instead of helping them.

One of the sentences I highlighted in TMWWT is, "Moderate strength is shown in violence, supreme strength is shown in levity." Maybe that's Chesterton's point, although I liked it better when I read it as a straight suspense thriller. The levity kind of ruined it for me. I can't decide what Chesterton means. Is he saying that anarchists are ridiculous, or that people who worry about them are ridiculous? I guess both could be true.

Wordsmith and I spent more time discussing Occupy Wall Street than the book, and there could be lessons here for them and us:

You've got that eternal idiotic idea that if anarchy came it would be from the poor. Why should it? The poor have been rebels, but they have never been anarchists; they have more interest than anyone else in there being some decent government. The poor man really has a stake in the country. The rich man hasn't; he can go away to New Guinea in a yacht. The poor have sometimes objected to being governed badly; the rich have always objected to being governed at all.

. . . When duty and religion are really destroyed, it will be by the rich.

What I really couldn't understand was the ending. I didn't remember it at all. In fact, all that really stuck with me was the tension of the early chapters. (It was as though I'd stopped reading altogether.) The culmination affirms a biblical worldview, but is stranger than Lilith even though everything happens in "the real world." It calls into question what is real. My last highlight:

Shall I tell you the secret of the whole world? It is that we have only known the back of the world. We see everything from behind, and it looks brutal.

Upcoming selections

2011-09-17T18:21:00.000-04:00

We went ahead at our September meeting and set out the selections for the rest of the year, based on the list we've been compiling of Books We Want to Read Before We Die.

First up, for October . . . Lilith, by George MacDonald, and The Man Who Was Thursday, by G.K. Chesterton.

About The Man Who Was Thursday: "G. K. Chesterton's surreal masterpiece is a psychological thriller that centers on seven anarchists in turn-of-the-century London who call themselves by the names of the days of the week. Chesterton explores the meanings of their disguised identities in what is a fascinating mystery and, ultimately, a spellbinding allegory."

About Lilith: "Rich in symbolism, steeped in paradox, this is a tale of a man's journey and his coming to terms with the frailty of humanity when it is seen in the light of God. MacDonald never hides the basis of his paradigm--that there is a God who loves us, who knows better than we do what is best for us--rather, he weaves it into a rich tapestry of adventure wherein key characters make known the paradox that is at the heart of Chrisitianity: he who would be first must be last."

Both are very different, a little difficult, interesting. We should have a good discussion on the 20th.

November - Home, by Marilynn Robinson. We read Gilead our first year. This is a follow-up book. You might want to read Gilead if you haven't already. Great book.

December - off

January - Life of Pi, by Yann Martel. Winner of the 2002 Man Booker Prize for Fiction. "Pi Patel is an unusual boy. The son of a zookeeper, he has an encyclopedic knowledge of animal behavior, a fervent love of stories, and practices not only his native Hinduism, but also Christianity and Islam. When Pi is sixteen, his family emigrates from India to North America aboard a Japanese cargo ship, along with their zoo animals bound for new homes. Life of Pi is at once a realistic, rousing adventure and a meta-tale of survival that explores the redemptive power of storytelling and the transformative nature of fiction. It's a story, as one character puts it, to make you believe in God."

February - The Michigan Murders, by Edward Keyes, and Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers, by Mary Roach

March - The Blue Star: A Novel, by Tony Earley. This is a sequel to Jim the Boy, our first-ever selection, a sweet tale. You'll want to read it.

April - The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot

May - The Spirit of Food, by Leslie Leyland Fields, and Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India, and Indonesia, by Elizabeth Gilbert

We settled on these, and then, on the way out the door at Schuler's I saw a book by a feminist writer I've appreciated: Naomi Wolf's The End of America: Letter to a Young Patriot. I'd like us to squeeze this in by making it our summer reading selection, or first thing next September. It would be a good lead-in to the 2012 election. And it has linkages to Thomas Paine's Common Sense. We should read them both.

Review: Silas Marner

2011-09-17T17:45:00.000-04:00

Somehow I made it through school without having to read Silas Marner. If what Susan Hallender said is true, then I think that's a good thing. One sure way of killing great literature is to force a person to read it. I'm very grateful for Wordsmith's selection of this classic. I may never have read it otherwise, because unfortunately it has that taint of being "a book you read for school."

If I were a young person, I know I would have had a hard time completing the book. At one point I couldn't figure out Eliot's point in suddenly introducing the townsfolk through their lengthy discussion in the pub. Who are all these people and why should I care? For I while I put the book down because I cared about Silas and Eppie too much and feared something really awful would happen to them.

A good writer doesn't waste anything, and Eliot is a good writer. Tension is natural in any love story; she doesn't have to do anything really awful to her characters to keep you interested. And the scene in the pub is, after all, important because this isn't just a story. It's an examination of civic life. How do people live together? What orders their lives? How do they handle crises? How do they treat strangers?

It's also an examination of faith versus reason. Lantern Yard seems to represent a hyper-spiritual community, where faith is mistaken for mysticism and superstition. Knowledge and reason are mistrusted. It doesn't eradicate envy and greed, theft or falsehood. It doesn't know what to do with them.

Raveloe villagers, in contrast, have things, enjoy food and drink, go to church irreligiously. It isn't devoid of faith at all, as evidenced by the hearty exhortations of Dolly Winthrop. People know what they believe and have woven it into the fabric of their lives. (Nice metaphor, eh?) At least they behave correctly toward Silas, and they remind him to behave correctly, too. I'm thinking of the scene where Silas accuses a fellow who's been in his home of taking the gold. Another man reminds him of the law against presuming guilt until it's proven, a law derived from the scriptural requirement of two or three witnesses. They accept Silas, they help and seek justice for him. They support him in his adoption of Eppie. It's not accidental that Lantern Yard ceases to exist, overtaken by the Industrial Revolution, while Raveloe thrives.

Eliot seems to admire the natural and rustic. She writes of "unnurtured souls" and "least-instructed human beings" as being capable of the highest, finest qualities.

"There is hardly a servant-maid in these days who is not better informed than Miss Nancy; yet she had the essential attributes of a lady -- high veracity, delicate honour in her dealings, deference to others, and refined personal habits. . . ."

Aside from Silas, I found the character of Godfrey Cass most interesting. He was complex. There was more actual tension in the story concerning him. Would he sacrifice himself? Would he do right by Nancy? What kind of man was he? Would he insist on having his way? Would he ruin everything?

Nancy's a little flat, but she asks herself a good question, with which I'll close: "I can do so little -- have I done it all well?"

Wordsmith's Summer Reading

2011-08-01T16:31:00.000-04:00

This summer I've read a couple of Daphne du Maurier books: The House on the Strand and Julius. Neither was what I expected - not like the mysteries I've read - but both were well written and really interesting. Julius follows the life of a man from birth to death and depicts the reality of and relationship between evil in the world and in the human heart. The main character of The House on the Strand lives in two worlds... or so he thinks. Du Maurier is so good at convincing you to believe something and then turning everything around to show you what's really true.
Right now I'm finishing up Mark Twain's The Prince and the Pauper. Twain's never been a favorite of mine, but I might reconsider since I'm enjoying this one.
Next I'm planning to read The Joy Luck Club by Amy Tan, then on to George Eliot's Silas Marner, our September selection. I love summer reading!

Selection for September: Silas Marner by George Eliot

2011-06-26T20:05:00.000-04:00

Here's what Susan Hallender said about it in an Amazon review:

Question: How can you ensure that a person will hate a book? Answer: Make her read it for 7th grade English class, make sure that the language is old-fashioned, and above all, make sure that the ideas and concepts are over her head. If that's what happened to you, and that's why you have an aversion to Silas Marner, and you are now over 30, pick it up again. Read it twice. Silas Marner is one of the greatest novels in the English language.

. . . When you're all done, before you file Silas Marner on the shelf, go back and read the paragraph about Silas' thoughts when he discovers that his hordes of coins are missing. If you have ever felt sudden extreme loss, you will recognize the stages of despair from disbelief to acceptance "like a man falling into dark water." Which is why this book is not suitable for children, and is most appreciated by those who have undergone their own moral redemption.

Silas has been the inspiration for many other characters, including Dicken's Scrooge. He has been portrayed in movies, including "A Simple Twist of Fate" starring Steve Martin. But none is as good as the original. If you haven't read it since junior high, try it again. Silas Marner is an excellent book. There's a gem of human understanding in every chapter.

See you September 15th!

Thoughts on The Beautiful Side of Evil

2011-05-23T20:40:00.001-04:00

I don't plan to say too much, but what I will say is that Johanna Michaelsen truly opens your eyes to some things that we don't like to think about or dwell on. And that's probably how it should be. The point that comes through in The Beautiful Side of Evil is that it's a mistake to think too much or too little about the matters she discusses. (You can see I don't even like to put them into words.) The occult is definitely not something to play around with. Her book is fair warning.

Which brings me to a question that occurred in our discussion: What's so beautiful about evil? The author certainly leaves no beauty to be desired there. It seems to me that the reason more people don't fall for this stuff is they're not so open to any experience as Johanna was. They're more doubtful about strange phenomena. They're frightened of it. For good reason. It has no fascination for me.

Strangely enough, in my mail this week at work was a catalog from Inner Traditions. I have no idea how I got on their list; it was addressed to me at one of my blogs for work. I can't think of any reason they would connect it to what they're selling. I mention it here because their list of products reads like some of the things Johanna warns about. To me, it was interesting the kinds of things this new-agey catalog brings together:

Books about new consciousness ("How to thrive in transitional times and participate in the coming spiritual renaissance") and plant wisdom ("Consulting plant spirits for spiritual and psychological guidance and healing"). Books about "ghostly processions of the undead" and "talking animals." Other topics include yoga, voodoo, "rebel angels," the planetary mind, essential oils, Chi Kung, shamanism, Tai Chi, neurofeedback, and end times. On facing pages there's a book about the Temple of Solomon and another about invoking the scribes of ancient Egypt.

So, this stuff is definitely out there. And it's really OUT THERE, if you get my drift. Buyer beware!

Review: The House of Mirth

2011-05-21T21:46:00.004-04:00

Lily Bart is a tragic heroine. I don't know whether she was the first such in literature, but she does seem unusual when considered alongside Jane Eyre, Elisabeth Bennet, or Fanny Price (Mansfield Park, Jane Austen). Maybe she'd be more in the vein of Catherine Earnshaw (Wuthering Heights). In my mind, she fits somewhere in the neighborhood of Holly Golightly (Breakfast at Tiffanys), but not quite as fallen as Moll Flanders and Becky Sharp (Vanity Fair, William Makepeace Thackeray).

We discussed how responsible Lily was for her fate. How much did she understand about her condition? How much could she have changed? Using my Kindle as a highlighter, I was able to find a surprising number of quotes that show she knew (or should have known) she skated on thin ice:

Hitherto Lily had been undisturbed by scruples.

Miss Bart had in fact been treading a devious way, and none of her critics could have been more alive to the fact than herself; but she had a fatalistic sense of being drawn from one wrong turning to another, without ever perceiving the right road until it was too late to take it.

All her past weaknesses were like so many eager accomplices drawing her toward the path their feet had already smoothed.

[T]here had been nothing in her training to develop any continuity of moral strength: what she craved, and really felt herself entitled to, was a situation in which the noblest attitude should also be the easiest.

Just looking at those sentences, it's a wonder we can root for her, but we do. We want her to find love on her own terms. We like her, even though, if we met her today we might find her impossible to bear. A woman who literally lived off beauty and charm? Perhaps we would find her vain and consider her useless. Who would be her modern equivalent? Paris Hilton? Jessica Simpson?

No, Lily was not vapid. Grace as she possessed does go a long way. Today she'd at least have a high school education and would be more equipped for gainful employment. She'd resist being thought of as mere decoration.

To Carrie Fisher, Lily is a fascinating study. Lily wanted to be regarded for her mind. She wanted freedom, but barely knew what it was. She only got whiffs of if from Selden. He tells her,

"My idea of success . . . is personal freedom."

"Freedom? Freedom from worries?"

"From everything--from money, from poverty, from ease and anxiety, from all the material accidents. To keep a kind of republic of the spirit--that's what I call success."

The idea intoxicated her and led to her downfall. She didn't have the luxury. The "republic of the spirit" -- what I take to be self-possession, self-direction, being true to oneself -- was beyond her reach. She "had never learned to live with her own thoughts." "She could not acquire the air of doing things because she wanted to." As beautiful and sophisticated (in a certain sense) as she was, she was only a slave. She was beyond dingy.

What did Edith Wharton want us to think? She herself was a member of the society she critiqued. She loved beauty; built an opulent mansion; wrote a book on house decor. She also was unhappily married. Was Lily an alter-ego? Her cry for help?

The title suggests something deeper in her mind. The brief glimpse we're given near the end of the book is a clue. The introduction of a new homescape -- simple and spotlessly clean, sheltering a family that lives within its means and is founded on compassion, redemption, and forgiveness. These aren't accidental. Is The House of Mirth a parable of the deceitfulness of pleasure? Is Lily the female version of the Proverbial simpleton -- enticed by beauty and lured by love, who "does not know that it will cost him his life" and is "all at once" hopelessly ensnared?

It's a nice coincidence that the same night we discussed this we also discussed The Beautiful Side of Evil. Charm is deceitful and beauty is vain.

Postscript: I forgot to say something about why Lily is heroic. She's likeable too in that she sacrifices herself for others. Selden and Bertha Dorset never know what she did for them at such a cost. Ironically and tragically, she is judged as having done the very thing from which she spared them. In a sense, she dies for them.

Final word: "It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting [mirth]: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart." (Ecclesiastes 7:2)

May selection: "The Beautiful Side of Evil" by Johanna Michaelsen

2011-05-04T20:17:00.000-04:00

This is a true account of a young woman who, while in search of spiritual truth, became a personal assistant to a psychic surgeon in Mexico for 14 months. Then, in answer to her prayers, God revealed the true source behind the miraculous healings she witnessed... Johanna reveals how this deadly deception is not isolated to her unusual experience but rather is invading our everyday lives, even our churches.
Lisa says, "This was written in 1960 and has a forward by Hal Lindsey. I have two copies I can bring to church Sunday and I found one on KDL.org and one at half.com."

Due to scheduling difficulties with our April meeting, we'll discuss The House of Mirth and The Beautiful Side of Evil on May 19.

April selection: The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton

2011-03-19T17:11:00.004-04:00

"The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning; but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth." (Ecclesiastes 7:4)

Beautiful Lily Bart failed to head the warning, turning directly from the funeral parlor to the homes of New York City's 400 -- friends whose wealth and fast living led her to believe she, too, could have a life of ease.

I've read The House of Mirth twice, and seen the movie (not as great), but I'm looking forward to reading it again and discussing it with everyone on ~~April 21~~ 28 May 19.

Finding a good book to read

2011-03-19T08:37:00.002-04:00

At our last club meeting, the hazards of finding books -- particularly online -- came up. Unless, or until, Barnes & Noble comes up with a rating system like there is for movies, the reader is pretty much in the dark about a new author and the contents or subject matter of his or her books.

I'd like to recommend what I'll call the literary pedigree approach to finding good books. It's worked very well for me.

Start with an author you've found to be enjoyable and trustworthy. Then get to know the authors that influenced him or her, and other authors who've been influenced by them.

I can still trace the pedigree that began for me with C.S. Lewis. I read, I believe, all his fiction works -- The Chronicles of Narnia, the space-time trilogy, The Great Divorce -- and then I wondered, "What next?"

Also around that time I read some of his non-fiction, and a biography or two about him. I recommend doing the latter. If you find an author that you like, get to know him or her better by reading an autobiography or biography. And pay attention to the books he or she likes. You might even be able to find this information on Wikipedia.

In Lewis' case, one literary influence was George MacDonald. He wrote Lilith, Phantastes, The Princess and the Goblin, At the Back of the North Wind, and many other terrific books. They are listed on his Wikipedia entry.

Also listed are other authors influenced by him, and I have enjoyed works by many of them: J.R.R. Tolkien, Madeleine L'Engle, and even Mark Twain. One in particular, G.K. Chesterton, brought me to some favorites: the Father Brown mysteries and The Man Who Was Thursday.
A contemporary (to us) author that found inspiration in MacDonald is Michael Phillips. His titles will keep you busy for a long time. Indeed, following the Lewis pedigree gives readers a wealth of good reading.

One other author in the Lewis realm -- a friend, though not an Inkling -- is Dorothy Sayers. Her Lord Peter Wimsey mysteries are delightful. From there the trail in my memory of links between authors peters out, but you get the drift.

By following such a trail, starting with an author of substance and learning about from whence the substance was derived, you won't go too far wrong. You'll find books that are worth reading. There's no lack of books to read these days; discerning which are most worthwhile takes a little research but is not too hard.

Review: Stealing Buddha's Dinner, a memoir by Bich Minh Nguyen

2011-03-18T21:06:00.003-04:00

This book contains the childhood memories of a Vietnamese woman who came to this country as a baby in 1975 as Saigon fell to the Communists. She has no recollection of her old country, yet suffers as a displaced person after her family settles in our hometown of Grand Rapids, Michigan. It was pleasant and somewhat jarring to see it through her eyes.

Ambiguity seems to be a theme. As she grows up, she is deeply attracted to, and yet repulsed by, Americans and their ways.

Television is her entree into the culture. From it she learns the language and absorbs its lessons. As most children do, she takes it quite literally that the products she sees advertised will make her happy and fulfilled. She seems to come to an understanding early on that they won't satisfy, but the promise is so strong that she can't quite shake it.

Dissatisfaction she has plenty. Her family is fragmented, a blending of immigrants -- her Vietnamese father, sister, grandmother, and uncles with a Hispanic stepmother and stepsister. She's never known her mother, and there's no one who will tell her what she wants to know about her. While the stepmother is an English-as-a-second-language instructor who does her best to learn the system and make it work for them, the rest seem to go their own way and assimilate to varying degrees.

And it's in the days before multiculturalism. Political correctness, as odious as we often find it, nevertheless has not had its good effect of creating an awareness of the value of other cultures. And so she suffers the slings and arrows of misunderstanding, prejudice, and outright cruelty. Kind people make overtures, but with Bich it seems to only increase her isolation. She can't process what's going on around her, and can't articulate what's going on inside. The people in her life who should have nurtured her were either absent or silent.

The book gives you a good sense of her feelings. Much is relatable to everyone's experience at one time or another. Who hasn't felt like an outsider? Ugly? Hungry? Who isn't grateful to have overcome those feelings, as the author finally seems to by the end?

Readers must have patience with the shifting timeline. It often isn't clear how old the writer was when an event occured. I felt, though, that the glimpse into another life, in a time and place that I have lived through, was interesting and worthwhile.

In homage to the theme of food that ties all her chapters together, we decided to meet at a local restaurant where we could sample Vietnamese food. Lai Thai Kitchen on Leonard NE is a pleasant space with good food and accommodating staff -- who said they were Buddhist when we showed them the book we'd read and our reason for coming. And, just as in Bich's grandmother's bedroom, there sat a Buddha at the restaurant's entrance, complete with an offering of watermelon.

Selection for March: Stealing Buddha's Dinner

2011-02-18T20:41:00.004-05:00

From the author's website: As a Vietnamese girl coming of age in Grand Rapids, Michigan, Bich Nguyen is filled with a rapacious hunger for American identity. In the pre-PC era Midwest, where the devoutly Christian blonde-haired, blue-eyed Jennifers and Tiffanys reign supreme, the barely conscious desire to belong transmutes into a passion for American food. More exotic seeming than her Buddhist grandmother’s traditional specialties—spring rolls, delicate pancakes stuffed with meats, herbs, and bean sprouts, fried shrimp cakes—the campy, preservative-filled “delicacies” of mainstream America capture her imagination. And in this remarkable book, the glossy branded allure of such American foods as Pringles, Kit Kats, and Tollhouse cookies become an ingenious metaphor for her struggle to fit in, to become a “real” American, a distinction that brings with it the dream of the perfect school lunch, burgers and Jell-O for dinner, and a visit from the Kool-Aid man.

Stealing Buddha's Dinner is a vivid, funny, and viscerally powerful memoir about childhood, assimilation, food and growing up in the 1980s.

Plan for our March discussion: To meet at a China Chef . . . unless someone can suggest a good Vietnamese restaurant.

Review: The Devil in Pew Number Seven

2011-02-18T20:34:00.004-05:00

This book is a memoir of actual events in a little girl's life, events that changed the course of her future and shaped her character. A weaker person, indeed her own father, would be scarred irreparably. But, ironically, it was the lessons he'd taught her by the time she was seven years old that saved her from becoming bitter.

Before you crack open the cover, you know something really bad is going to happen. And after the first chapter you know what it is, but it doesn't ruin the suspense. (There's plenty of mystery remaining as to who and why.) The Devil in Pew Number Seven lags a bit when the author gets a little carried away with her metaphors attempting to describe events before her own birth; the pace and power of description picks up once she comes of age. But from start to finish the book is a page-turner, a quick and rewarding read.

The reward comes in considering the nature and source of forgiveness. Big topic for a little girl, but she learned it at an early age. Her parents trained her for it, though the reason came from a different direction than what ultimately it was most needed for. It's heartening to realize that the lessons learned before one is seven can last a lifetime. The author's parents served her well.

At the same time, a large part of our discussion centered around the issue of whether she'd had to come to the point of forgiving her parents for remaining in a situation of terror that would ultimately cost one of them their lives and the other a complete physical and mental breakdown. Should they have left the church, or at least moved away from Mr. Watts? They repeatedly gave their reason for staying as devotion to "the call" of God on their lives, but was it sacrifice or foolishness? It was right for the Apostle Paul to put his own life on the line for the gospel, but he didn't have a wife and children. And he had direct revelation from God. The question remains open -- and important to drawing conclusions for ones own life -- whether staying in Sellerstown was God's will for them.

Related:

Sellerstown shooting story told by little girl who survived
Churches need to recognize the symptoms of avenger violence
Dont miss the video below, which offers some interesting revelations and explains the early over-writing.

Selection for February: The Devil in Pew Number Seven

2011-01-22T12:08:00.002-05:00

Rebecca never felt safe as a child. In 1969, her father, Robert Nichols, moved to Sellerstown, North Carolina, to serve as a pastor. There he found a small community eager to welcome him—with one exception. Glaring at him from pew number seven was a man obsessed with controlling the church. Determined to get rid of anyone who stood in his way, he unleashed a plan of terror that was more devastating and violent than the Nichols family could have ever imagined. Refusing to be driven away by acts of intimidation, Rebecca’s father stood his ground until one night when an armed man walked into the family’s kitchen . . . and Rebecca’s life was shattered. If anyone had a reason to harbor hatred and seek personal revenge, it would be Rebecca. Yet The Devil in Pew Number Seven tells a different story. It is the amazing true saga of relentless persecution, one family’s faith and courage in the face of it, and a daughter whose parents taught her the power of forgiveness.

Related Links:
Discussion Guide
Facebook fan page
Video

Review: The Once and Future King

2011-01-22T11:55:00.001-05:00

The tone and theme of T.H. White's novel are both a little surprising. I found the at times cartoonish atmosphere unexpected yet amusing, which lightened what would otherwise have been a heavy thesis on war and justice. The theme is brilliantly developed and the writing style fluid. White must have been deeply moved by what he saw developing in Europe circa 1939 -- 20 years or so after the end of World War I and on the cusp of Hitler's invasions and the rise of other Fascist dictators -- to create such a masterpiece. As the frontispiece suggests, White well chose a story that's in Britain's psyche.

The humor also relieved some pretty horrible scenes, particularly in book 2 about Morgause. In our discussion, someone said they found the scene where the unicorn is butchered hard to read. Yes, but it's also one of the most realistic and vivid portrayals of efforts to make a good presentation of what is an essentially botched job (sin).

We agreed that one of the most beautiful sections is in the first book, when Wart is a goose. If ever humans could repudiate war and live like the birds in peace and equanimity, wouldn't life be good? White reminds us of the geese in the last chapter, as he returns to all his themes in a summation. Because of this, we used the last chapter as a jumping-off point for our discussion.

Why do men fight? "Was it the wicked leaders who led innocent populations to slaughter, or was it wicked populations who chose leaders after their own hearts?"

What will bring peace and justice? "Countries would have to become counties -- but counties which could keep their own culture and local laws. The imaginary lines on the earth's surface only needed to be unimagined." Only the return of our future king will make this real. This apparently was not a prospect that White intended his readers to expect.

January selection: The Once & Future King, by T. H. White

2010-11-24T09:18:00.000-05:00

We won't be meeting again until January 20, so that gives us plenty of time to read the 639 pages of T. H. White's classic Arthurian tale.

This is, according to The Merriam-Webster Encyclopedia of Literature, actually a "quartet of novels ... published in a single volume in 1958. The quartet comprises The Sword in the Stone (1938), The Queen of Air and Darkness -- first published as The Witch in the Wood (1939) -- The Ill-Made Knight (1940), and The Candle in the Wind (published in the composite volume, 1958). The series is a retelling of the Arthurian legend, from Arthur's birth to the end of his reign, and is based largely on Sir Thomas Malory's Le Morte Darthur." It was also the basis of the play, "Camelot." And, we're reminded by Wikipedia, the Disney animation, "The Sword in Stone." We get to read the real thing!

The Canopy, by Angela Hunt

2010-11-24T08:55:00.002-05:00

While I didn't think the writing was particularly fine, it is a good story and we enjoyed a good discussion about it. The story takes you into the Peruvian rainforest and into the lives of natives and explorers. Sadly, most of the characters are not well developed, so other than providing background information, there's not much to say about anyone but the two main ones -- Alex and Michael.

Alex is a skreechy, high-strung woman, too intelligent for her own good. As Michael constantly ruminates about her, at least she's good to her daughter. To everyone else, she must be moodily enigmatic. He is strangely drawn to her.

Michael has been in South America for several years and hasn't bothered to learn the language. He's there on a part humanitarian, part personal quest -- to get over the loss of his wife. Up until the crisis point in the story, he hasn't seemed to integrate his Christianity with his medicine, but when the shaman asks him to give his tribe the Gospel, he steps up in a marvelous way.

I'm always wary of how this is going to get done. In many Christian novels, the author's fear of dogmatism or preachiness (or just plain ignorance) gets in the way and you're left with a fog of vague statements about God's love and our need of . . . something.

Angela Hunt does a fine job here. Not only was the Good News clear, but so was the Bad News. In the mouth of Michael, who doesn't seem to have given cross-cultural communication much thought prior to this point, it is a powerful and simply spoken revelation.

Of course, in a novel like this, (spoiler alert) you know the main characters are going to get together. The question here is, how will Alex the Agnostic come to agreement with Michael about Christianity? Will it be believable and biblical? This was the topic of much of our discussion, and I think we left a little up in the air on both points.

I guess we could say, if you suspend all critical judgment, it was believable. It fell out much the same way that The Shack handled disbelief. It was believable if that's what she experienced. There's no other way she would have accepted it. Okay. But it's only biblical in the sense that this is the kind of thing that happened when Jesus was around, healing and saving all in one motion. It's not what we would say was "normative" for all, for today. Okay.

And then there's the matter of this tree and total healing, and faith. It leaves one with the idea that healing is dependent on your degree of faith, and faith is in . . . what? Lots of questions.

So, we're left with a good story, interesting facts about plants and bugs in the rainforest, anthropological information about tribes in the jungle, and a wonderful moment when the tribe as a group accepts Michael's word. Fabulous. But still maybe not recommended for those without faith. I don't know.

November's selection: The Canopy, by Angela Hunt

2010-10-25T19:25:00.001-04:00

Lisa said books by Angela Hunt are thought-provoking, and gave The Canopy as her first choice of the three she's read. It's in the church library, and there seem to be plenty of copies in the KDL system. Reviewers have said:

"Award-winning, best-selling author Angela Hunt combines the unique rainforest setting, modern science, and a thrilling race for a cure into a powerful message of faith and redemption."

"Science and faith meet in the search for a cure for Mad Cow Disease and other encephalopathies as two doctors venture through the Peruvian jungle."

Hmmm. Sounds interesting. I have my hold placed. See you November 18!

Barchester Towers, by Anthony Trollope

2010-10-24T21:12:00.013-04:00

I've just begun reading Trollope's autobiography, and I'm searching for insight on how he got to be such a fine observer of character as evidenced in Barchester Towers. From reading only so far as his youth and education, I've found a few clues. One, he was a lonely boy, set aside from the boys at school by his family's poverty. He said of those times,

I suffered horribly! I could make no stand against [his fellow's cruelty]. I had no friend to whom I could pour out my sorrows. I was big, and awkward, and ugly, and, I have no doubt, sulked about in a most unattractive manner. Of course, I was ill-dressed and dirty. But ah! how well I remember all the agonies of my young heart; how I considered whether I should always be alone; whether I could not find my way up to the top of that college tower, and from thence put an end to everything.

Misery, indeed. Being such an acute sufferer, he could sympathize with the likes of Mr. Harding and recognize the abuses of a Slope and Grantly.

But keen observation doesn't explain his artistry. I can't think of Trollope's equal in his ability to amuse and enlighten in a few deft words. He is a master. I hope that readers can appreciate the following quotes from Barchester Towers even though they're out of context:

Of the dying bishop: "If he did not do much active good, he never did any harm."

Of the new bishop's wife: "I cannot think that with all her virtues she adds much to her husband's happiness."

"The great family characteristic of the Stanhopes might probably be said to be heartlessness, but this want of feeling was, in most of them, accompanied by so great an amount of good nature as to make itself but little noticeable to the world."

Of Mr. Harding: "The whole tendency of his mind and disposition was opposed to any contra-assumption of grandeur on his own part, and he hadn't the worldly spirit or quickness necessary to put down insolent pretensions by downright and open rebuke."

"Mr. Slope was not in all things a bad man. His motives, like those of most men, were mixed, and though his conduct was generally very different from that which we would wish to praise, it was actuated perhaps as often as that of the majority of the world by a desire to do his duty." How many do we know of these types?

Of Mr. Arabin: "Too apt to look down on the ordinary sense of ordinary people."

"There was nothing poetic in the nature of Mrs. Quiverful." Which is ironic, given that it comes after a paragraph in which the author waxes exceedingly poetic about her.

How does Trollope know us so well, and yet have the audacity to remark "how little our friends know us!"? In describing Mr. Arabin, the author notes,

Considering how much we are all given to discuss the characters of others, and discuss them often not in the strictest spirit of charity, it is singular how little we are inclined to think that others can speak ill-naturedly of us. . . . [W]e all of us occasionally speak of our dearest friends in a manner in which those dearest friends would very little like to hear themselves mentioned, and that we nevertheless expect that our dearest friends shall invariably speak of us as though they were blind to all our faults, but keenly alive to every shade of our virtues. It did not occur to Mr. Arabin that he was spoken of at all. It seemed to him, when he compared himself with his host, that he was a person of so little consequence to any, that he was worth no one's words or thoughts.

And then,

Wise people, when they are in the wrong, always put themselves right by finding fault with the people against whom they have sinned. . . . A man in the right relies easily on his rectitude and therefore goes about unarmed. His very strength is his weakness. A man in the wrong knows that he must look to his weapons; his very weakness is his strength. The one is never prepared for combat, the other is always ready. Therefore it is that in this world the man that is in the wrong almost invariably conquers the man that is in the right, and invariably despises him.

Too true. Trollope is not fooled by the mask of religion either. And he can have his most odious characters speak the most truth, as when Slope says, "A Christian should have a reason for his faith -- should not only believe, but digest -- not only hear, but understand."

Then, in the mouth of the signora, in the midst of the seduction and destruction of Slope, he puts these words: "You preach a doctrine which you know you don't believe. It is the way with you all. If you know that there is no earthly happiness, why do you long to be a bishop or a dean? Why do you want lands and income? . . . I will believe in no belief that does not make itself manifest by outward signs. I will think no preaching sincere that is not recommended by the practice of the preacher."

I will also be watching, in his autobiography, for clues to how Trollope developed his view of the church and its clergy, for what led him to say in Barchester Towers, "We are not forced into church! No: but we desire more than that. We desire not to be forced to stay away."

And this brings me to one other thing I enjoy about Trollope's novels: the little asides by which he tells us what he thinks and his reasons for certain writing choices. One reviewer said he felt these could be skipped through in order to get on with the plot. I'm sorry for him.

Finally, I encourage you to read the backstory for Barchester Towers, The Warden. It's a sweet tale; read Page Turner's blog post for her review.

Next up: Barchester Towers

2010-09-11T15:23:00.002-04:00

Anthony Trollope has something like 47 novels to choose from, but this one is abundantly available in the KDL system, so that's why I chose it. You shouldn't have trouble getting one if you request a hold now. You can also find it in Google Books and Project Gutenburg.

I'll warn you ahead of time this book plops you into the middle of a series. It comes after The Warden in Trollope's Barsetshire series, but it's possible to catch on. Just keep reading, and Trollope will fill you in. The hardest thing about it is it's an ecclesiastical tale. The plot centers around the inner-workings of a cathedral town, and if you don't know the Anglican church -- like me -- it's easy to get lost in all the titles. What is a warden, after all? And an archdeacon, or preceptor? Doesn't really matter.

DailyLit calls it "A wry tale of posturing and clerical politics — and one very overbearing wife named Mrs. Proudie — in nineteenth century England." Victorian Web calls Mrs. Proudie "Trollope's greatest creation." Well-drawn characters are one of the things I love about Trollope.

Review of The Last Chinese Chef

2010-09-11T14:39:00.002-04:00

If you're going to discuss a book about Chinese food, it should be at a Chinese restaurant. While China Chef in Standale doesn't serve Dongpo Pork or Spongy Tofu with Crab Sauce, we did find dumplings (pot stickers) and Shrimp in Bird's Nest on the menu. I had my camera with me, but did I remember to take my own photo of this lovely dish? No. The fillings shown here approximate what we had, but the "bird's nest" was not crisped noodles or shredded potato as the menu described, but a delicate "taco salad" shell. Very tasty, though, and highly recommended.

But this is a review of The Last Chinese Chef, by Nicole Mones, not a restaurant review. The book engendered good discussion, despite what I thought was flat writing and a predictable plot. The first failing is ironic, given the main character's job as a magazine writer her several notebooks full of Sam's cooking. Why do we only get one paragraph or so on their meal at that famous restaurant? Why don't I feel as though I'm smelling and tasting the food? Why don't I ever get a sense of place? I think it's because Mones' descriptive skills are sorely lacking, even though she herself has written for Gourmet magazine and won prizes for other novels.

As for the plot, Mones arouses no suspense over matters with which good writers usually have a field day: Will the child belong to Maggie's husband? Will she and Sam wind up together? Will he win the contest? At each turn there's a feeling of inevitability. You easily guess every answer correctly before the characters arrive at their revelation, or at least sense they won't be too terribly affected by negative outcomes. Maybe this is another post-modern novel. It contains no commitment, no passion, no drama. Okay, Sam is passionate about food (or at least we're told he is) and Maggie mourns her husband's loss, but do we feel it?

Nevertheless, the book raises interesting topics: about the place of food in our lives, our relationships with family, how to handle grief, feelings of belonging, etc. We enjoyed comparing what we learn of Chinese society and culture to our own. Discussion questions provided with the book club kit from the GR library system helped. Could we really spend as much time on food preparation as the Chinese do? (Is it possible all Chinese cook this way?) What are the merits of living to eat as opposed to eating to live? Is it an American (Western) trait to want to care for a child from another culture, even if that child is the product of an unfaithful spouse's relationship? Chinese manners for handling business seem inscrutible, but to what extent do Americans hide reality?

Post script: I returned to China Chef the next day for Egg Fu Yong (hubby feeling Chinese food-deprived), and had a chat about the book with the owner Melissa Tran and one of her servers. She described how in China chicken and fish would always be cooked and served whole, bones and all. Chinese are adept at taking a bite and feeling carefully for bones. This way, they take full advantage of the calcium provided. For this reason, Chinese are very strong, she said. Or at least they have been. Fast food -- Western food habits -- are taking over. They now fillet their fish and get most of the bones out.

I mentioned we were interested in the foods made to look like something else (a chicken skin stuffed with vegetables, for example). She said, oh yes, that's done for vegetarian dishes. We got to talking about tofu, and she said it was wonderful the shapes they could form it into. You'd never know it wasn't a chicken leg or fish. The server said they're so beautiful you don't want to eat them.

Add your own comments here, or on our Facebook group page.

September selection: The Last Chinese Chef

2010-08-01T15:22:00.004-04:00

September will begin of our third year, and we'll again rotate our selections among us; that seemed to work well this past year. Becky is taking September, and her selection is an intruiging title: The Last Chinese Chef.

The description on the author's web page says, "You may know Chinese food; you may even love it. But The Last Chinese Chef will take you into a world of Chinese food you never even knew existed. Here is the hidden universe of one of the world's great cuisines. Its philosophy, its concepts, and its artistic ambitions are all illuminated in a story that's entertaining, emotionally satisfying, and erudite. . . . This is a novel of food, friendship, and falling in love, one that will forever change the way you look at Chinese food."

I do love Chinese food, but don't know it well. Am looking forward to being enlightened. To tempt more members to join us, we're planning to discuss the book at China Chef restaurant, 4335 Lake Michigan Dr. NW. We'll meet Thursday, September 16 23 9th at 6:30 pm. (Note the change of date to avoid conflicts with the HHBC women's retreat at Lake Ann and the True Woman conference in Indianapolis. And please note we are meeting one half hour earlier so we can enjoy a Chinese dinner together!)

July meeting

2010-07-30T19:58:00.003-04:00

Three of us met Thursday, July 29, to share what we've read so far this summer. We didn't meet in June, and we'll also take August off. In a couple weeks I expect one of us will take the plunge and reveal our selection for September. (We'll continue taking turns making selections. Get yours ready!) Watch this space for that news.

Here's a rundown of books, with brief descriptions and recommendations (or not). Becky read (or plans to read):

Ahab's Wife - not recommended. This prequel or sequel to Moby Dick takes liberties that push boundaries.
Let the Great World Spin, by Colum McCann - historical novel about the 1974 feat of tightrope walking between the World Trade Center towers, but strangely focuses on the spectators rather than the principals. But I think Becky said it was interesting.
Things Fall Apart, by Chinua Achebe - This is a rather well-known novel set in Nigeria, with shades of The Poisonwood Bible.
Lark and Termite - about a girl who takes care of her disabled brother; some sexuality.
This may be Becky's selection for the year - The Last Chinese Chef. It goes into the culture of Chinese food (we may have to meet at China Chef for our discussion). It's also a love story. Sounds yummy.
The Spy Wore Red - along with The Spy Went Dancing, a true-life spy memoir. (I read the latter; it's good.) A WWII-era James Bond in silks.
Becky is intrigued by this title given to her by a bookstore owner when he found out she was from Michigan - Forever and Five Days, by Lowell Cauffiel, about the Michigan nursing home murders. Kind of sordid, but interesting.
Also The American Plague: The Untold Story of Yellow Fever, the Epidemic that Shaped Our History.
Recommends The Giver, a young adult fiction about utopian society, a la Brave New World.

Penny is reading or has read:

Rena's Promise: A Story of Sisters in Auschwitz - probably the most accurate and graphic memoir of survival of the Holocaust; perhaps too accurate and thus disturbing. Still would make a good discussion. Link here to the Facebook page.
The Vanishing Act of Esme Lennox, by Maggie O'Farrell - a study of the worst of all characters, or of mankind.
Lavender Morning, by Jude Devereaux - a light romance/mystery, perfect for the beach.
Great Expectations
Picking Dandelions, by Sarah Cunningham - Penny actually met this Michigan author at Barnes & Noble, and I believe she said she was enjoying the memoir.
The Devil in Pew Number Seven - based on a true story. Facebook page.

I've been reading these by Anthony Trollope:

The Way We Live Now (currently) - a satire on wealth and greed; 480 pages
Cousin Henry - a novella offering psychological/spiritual insights into a character who just can't do what he knows is right. Amazing and agonizing. Absorbing and nuanced.
Miss Mackenzie - what's a formerly penniless young woman to do when she falls into wealth?
Barchester Towers - a classic on ambition in church life.

Something by Trollope will certainly be my selection this year. (Find Facebook Anthony Trollope Society here.) But I also read this one not by Trollope:

Dancing to the Precipice: The Life of Lucie de la Tour du Pin, Eyewitness to an Era, by Caroline Moorehead. The era in question is Louis 16-Marie Antoinette (during which Lucie was a lady-in-waiting), the French Revolution (part of which Lucie spent safely in America), Napoleon and after (during which everyone seemed to dance on pins and needles). The biography is based on Lucie's own memoirs and letters; Lucie has understood and described history's significance to her own life, to those she loved, and to the world. The author is careful not to overdo the background information while giving sufficient insight and flavor. Lucie is a remarkably spirited, educated, and moral person, considering the culture in which she was raised. (The grandmother who raised her was harsh and mercurial, and had as a long-time lover a Catholic bishop. Infidelity was "the thing," but Lucie remained faithful and enjoyed a long, satisfying marriage.) I would probably re-read this one in a couple years. It's that good.

Laddie, by Gene Stratton-Porter

2010-05-22T17:49:00.001-04:00

The author's dedication -- "The way to be happy is to be good" -- encapsulates the book. From beginning to end, Little Sister tries to figure out how to be happy and good. The author wants us to know that each pursued separately doesn't satisfy as much as finding one through pursuit of the other.

The way to happiness through goodness -- righteousness -- is not always readily apparent to the narrator, but by close observation of her loved ones (especially older brother Laddie) and neighbors -- their failures and triumphs of love over selfish ambition -- she continually makes discoveries.

Late in the book, Little Sister asks, "Father, when you pray for anything that it's all perfectly right for you to have, does God come down from heaven and do it Himself, or does He send a man like Laddie to do it for him?" Father answers, "Why, you have the whole thing right there in a nutshell, Little Sister. You see it's like this: the Book tells us most distinctly that 'God is love.' Now it was love that sent Laddie to bind himself for a long tedious job, to give Leon his horse, wasn't it?" Little Sister responds: "Of course! He wouldn't have been likely to do it if he hated him. It was love, of course!" "Then it was God," said father, "because 'God is love.' They are one and the same thing."

Near the end of the book, Little Sister concludes that the problem with their neighbors the Pryors is they didn't know how to love each other, and that because they didn't love God. They didn't know what "proper love" was, "because God is love, like father said."

The book is full of lessons in love -- loving one's family, one's spouse, one's children, one's neighbors, one's land and animals, one's work and hobbies, one's country -- including strangers and future generations. Even education ought to be loved. Father comments about the system of the day: "We re not going at children in a way to gain and hold their interest, and make them love their work. There must be a better way of teaching."

As an aside, this is a purely American book, and pointedly draws distinctions from the "old country." It tells of a time in our history when the land was still being settled, yet there already were established laws and culture.

My favorite chapter is The Garden of the Lord. The family sees their farm as a parallel to the Garden of Eden, as a place to tend and steward. This chapter describes their vision of paradise didactically, yet beautifully. A simple choice about leaving bushes to grow at the edges of their land is deliberate, allowing cover for birds, which keep down insects. Mother explained to Mr. Pryor: "Always we have planned and striven to transform this into the dearest, the most beautiful spot on earth. In making our home the best we can, in improving our township, county, and state, we are doing our share toward upbuilding this nation."

When he complained about taxes for bridge upkeep, mother expounds its value: "A good bridge and fine road add to [travellers'] pleasure, and when they leave, the improvements remain. They will benefit us and our children through all the years to come."

Stewardship begins in the home, from the way treasures are stored to the way leisure time is spent. Evening hours are spent around the hearth reading, studying, and quizzing. The household is as productive then as they are at work in the barn or kitchen. But it's not all stoical toil; it's so they can lavish joy on weddings, holidays, and other family celebrations.

Great care is taken of people's feelings, as well. Laddie exemplifies this best when he declares his intention to seek the Princess' hand to a house full of hangers-on after Sunday dinner -- church-folk, neighbors, and family. This tactic seems assured to bring out the most scrutiny and hilarity, but Little Sister observes that it has stripped the gathering of the need to gossip. He has spared himself and the Princess by being direct and honest.

Life with the is painted in the rosy hues of mother's fancy window shades, but is not sugar-coated. There are, literally an figuratively, snakes in the garden -- dangers and temptations. Disaster is sometimes a hair's-breadth away. Sometimes a response must be carefully considered and the timing of a confrontation patiently awaited. But the rewards author gives the reader steers us unerringly toward the desired path.

---

Something I wish we had done in our discussion was compare and contrast this family with some of the others we've met in book club selections such as Angela's Ashes, Gilead, Jim the Boy, The Glass Castle, even Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. And, of course, we can't help but think of Wendell Berry and Hannah Coulter.

May selection: Laddie, by Gene Stratton Porter

2010-04-17T12:21:00.004-04:00

On May 18, we'll be discussing Lisa's choice:

Laddie, A True Blue Story (1913) by Gene Stratton Porter is a wonderful and semi-autobiographical novel of siblings, family bonds, struggles and loves, learning and nature, and the complex joys of growing up in the country at the turn of the past century. Little Sister tells us the story of her brother Laddie, and the whole family is glimpsed through her loving eyes. A classic uplifting tale of self-discovery for all ages.

Gene Stratton-Porter (1863-1924), American novelist and naturalist, was born on a farm in Indiana and became one of Indiana's best-known authors. Writing fiction to support her passion for observing natural habitats, she also wrote non-fiction works that extensively dealt with birds, flowers, and other natural wonders. She fought for the conservation of the Limberlost Swamp and took up other cases of public welfare as well. A Girl of the Limberlost (1909) and Freckles (1904) are two of her most famous works. Amazon product review

You shouldn't have any trouble finding this in the library, but it can be read and downloaded several places online: Project Gutenburg (ebook), Google books, The Literature Network, Classic Reader, Questia.

Page Turner's review of The Book Thief

2010-04-17T11:56:00.000-04:00

From Heather's Lines From the Page blog, posted December 17, 2008: "In the past few weeks I mentioned to a few people that I was reading a book that was narrated by Death. That got a few odd looks, so I'd quickly try to explain that it wasn't as morbid as it sounded; it was really quite good, in fact. Maybe I convinced some of them..." Continue reading

Page Turner's take on Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

2010-03-30T23:26:00.000-04:00

I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the March meeting, but thank you for humoring me with the April selection. You can read my thoughts on Animal, Vegetable, Miracle here (and check out the other things I've been reading, too). Let me know your thoughts in the comments!

I'll see you in a few weeks!

Page Turner (Heather)

April selection: The Book Thief

2010-03-22T20:08:00.002-04:00

The author's website says: "It’s just a small story really, about among other things: a girl, some words, an accordionist, some fanatical Germans, a Jewish fist-fighter, and quite a lot of thievery. . . . Set during World War II in Germany, Markus Zusak’s groundbreaking new novel is the story of Liesel Meminger, a foster girl living outside of Munich. Liesel scratches out a meager existence for herself by stealing when she encounters something she can’t resist–books. With the help of her accordion-playing foster father, she learns to read and shares her stolen books with her neighbors during bombing raids as well as with the Jewish man hidden in her basement before he is marched to Dachau. This is an unforgettable story about the ability of books to feed the soul."

Hmmmm . . . very intruiging. Next meeting: April 15.

March selection: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

2010-02-20T18:04:00.000-05:00

HistoryBuff made the March selection of bestselling author Barbara Kingsolver's non-fiction Animal, Vegetable, Miracle (written with Camille Kingsolver and Steven L. Hopp). She and her family documented a year of procuring as much of their food as possible from neighboring farms and their own backyard. "Hang on for the ride: With characteristic poetry and pluck, Barbara Kingsolver and her family sweep readers along on their journey away from the industrial-food pipeline to a rural life in which they vow to buy only food raised in their own neighborhood, grow it themselves, or learn to live without it. Their good-humored search yields surprising discoveries about turkey sex life and overly zealous zucchini plants, en route to a food culture that's better for the neighborhood and also better on the table. Part memoir, part journalistic investigation, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle makes a passionate case for putting the kitchen back at the center of family life and diversified farms at the center of the American diet."

Having enjoyed The Poisonwood Bible in our first year, we have reason to expect good things. Our next discussion is March 18.

The Genius Factory, by David Plotz

2010-02-20T17:48:00.000-05:00

I've put my review of the book on BFL's Pro-Life Pastors' Corner blog. Our February club meeting was well attended, with lively discussion of this compelling topic. I hope other members will post their thoughts.

The Woman in White, by Wilkie Collins

2010-01-23T18:51:00.020-05:00

"Frailty, thy name is woman!" Hamlet Act 1, scene 2

Wilkie Collins doesn't hold women in much higher regard, despite his ability to paint a strong, able, intelligent Marian. Yet even she succumbed to severe illness, brought on by a cold and fever. Okay, they didn't have antibiotics, and they had to wear corsets, but please! Poor Laura was brought down by the mere sight of her friend's illness. Too much of the story hinges on this frailty.

But don't let my impatience on this minor point hinder you from a gripping tale. It is a "sensation" novel. It does have well drawn characters (Fosco). Every chapter leaves you hanging. It would have been fascinating to receive every installment in serial form.

Our discussion Thursday, January 21, plumbed this subject and others. Group members, add comments and posts here! Be sure to read Page Turner's review on her blog, Lines from the Page.

What Would Jane Do?

2010-01-10T15:33:00.000-05:00

Today's readers tend to appreciate Austen despite her didacticism rather than because of it. She can be positively priggish, and that is an embarrassment. The contemporary reader who loves Jane Austen sort of blips over the moralizing sections and tells himself that they don't really count. It is possible to ignore this aspect of her work, just as it is possible to discuss a religious painting with hardly any reference to the artist's religious intent. But this seems absurd: Ignoring a writer's central concern is a strange way to attempt to appreciate and understand her.

The question arises, then, of how to reconcile Austen's moralism with modern sensibility. To address this problem, it would be useful if we could ﬁnd someone with this modern sensibility who actually reads Austen for her moral instruction (in addition to the literary pleasure she provides). How convenient that we have someone who fits that description available to us: me.

By James Collins, from A Truth Universally Acknowledged (Random House), excerpted in the Wall Street Journal

Interview with Wendell Berry

2009-12-31T11:07:00.000-05:00

Diane Rehm interviews one of our favorite authors, Wendell Berry. He talks about farming and a recently published book of poetry.

Interview with John Irving

2009-12-18T19:46:00.000-05:00

Here's an interesting interview with the novelist John Irving. He talks about how he writes.

January Club selection: The Woman in White

2009-12-07T20:20:00.000-05:00

Experience what it was like to read a serialized novel, to be left in suspense for a week until the next installment. One hundred and fifty years after its first publication, The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins is being published once more in its original, weekly parts. Three parts have now been published. You can even see images of the original periodical pages.

The story first appeared as a serial in Charles Dickens's periodical All The Year Round beginning with the issue dated Saturday 26 November 1859 and ending with the issue dated Saturday 25 August 1860. The story was published simultaneously in New York in Harper's Weekly.

The first part of the reprint was available on Monday 23 November 2009 and the last will be on Sunday 22 August 2010, in the morning UK time. (The day changes because of the Leap Year in 1860.) The parts are e-texted with all faults exactly as printed.

A separate pdf is also published each week which captures the feel of the original in a more readable form. It can be read on-screen or printed out. Or you can subscribe free to receive it week by week in your in-box by emailing Paul Lewis. Access it all through The Woman in White web page.

The Glass Castle, by Jeannette Walls

2009-11-24T17:08:00.007-05:00

Jeannette Walls never got to live in the glass castle her father conjured up as the ideal family abode, but that did not cause her to cast stones. Her memoir is an unflinchingly honest yet warm appraisal of her growing-up years. I think we all came away from the book marveling at how she and her older siblings not only survived but thrived in their environment. A key question on all our minds was how did she not grow bitter?

Our discussion was wide-ranging. A main topic of conversation concerned parenthood. If the Walls children could grow up to be responsible adults having had virtually no supervision, then do modern parents over-protect? The reverse-side-of-the-coin question is, Is it right for parents to cause their children to suffer in the pursuit of their (the parents') dreams? There are no easy answers, but we have a case-history in the lives of Rex and Rose Mary Walls (as told from the point of view of one of the children). They are fortunate to be able to say their children fared no worse for neglect, or indeed their 'contributing to the delinquency of minors' in their household. How many 'helicopter parents' have seen their children become irresponsible adults? Considering Maureen's difficulties, three out of four isn't bad.

It could be said that the sink-or-swim method of parenting yields positive results. How much of that is due to the individual determination of Lori, Brian, and Jeannette Walls is impossible to say. Was it a kind of reverse-psychology that led them to work diligently, budget and save frugally, and crave cleanliness? Rex and Rose Mary filled their home with books and were avid readers themselves. Was that what gave the children a vision of a better life?

The biggest mystery of the book, to me, was how the three oldest were able to safely and sanely sort through the mixture of myth and fact their parents had given them. Psychologist couches are filled with people paralyzed by the lies they'd internalized growing up. Rose Mary, especially, had an answer for everything. Stinking, starving, shivering? It's a grand adventure! Other children have Christmas presents and three square meals a day? Who wants to live such a conventional life?!?

I could forgive them almost anything, but not Rose Mary's reluctance to get glasses for Lori. How can a parent justify leaving her child in near-blindness with the claim that every artist has a different vision? Vive la difference? Not hardly. I'd have a lot more patience with their dream-chasing if they had actually for one minute tried to provide for their children. There's a big difference between not being able to provide for ones' children and not even trying -- and covering it up with high-minded philosophy. It left me thinking that the only people who can afford to be Progressives are ones with money.

Apparently, Rose Mary was reacting against her own starchy upbringing, and Rex was escaping his traumatic one. If ever there's an example of why blaming your parents is a crock, this book is it. The lesson is, you make your own future (by God's grace).

Yes, there were positives, obviously. There was attention paid to the children, even if it was a little oddly expressed. They were loved. Their minds were nurtured, if not their bodies. There was a tremendous feeling of togetherness and inter-dependency among them. They made their own fun and fought their battles together. The children inherited a genius for creativity and resourcefulness (Jeannette's homemade braces, leaving Welch and making it in the big city). At numerous points throughout the story, disaster loomed but never materialized, thanks to the quick thinking and bravery of one or the other. It's a profoundly positive tale, one I wished had been longer.

Notable quotes:

Page 69 - "We were always supposed to pretend our life was one long and incredibly fun adventure."
Page 103 - "Mom and Dad liked to make a big point about never surrendering to fear or to prejudice or to the narrow-minded conformist sticks-in-the-mud who tried to tell everyone what was proper."
Page 129 - On one occasion of Jeannette's embarrassment: "'Life is a drama full of tragedy and comedy,' Mom told me. 'You should learn to enjoy the comic episodes a little more.'"

There is truth in this view of life, but at whose expense? If I could point to one instance where it was the parents who suffered for their philosophy instead of the children, I'd have a lot more sympathy.

One club member pointed out that Rose Mary could very well have been depressed or bipolar. That fits with much of what occurs. We can be thankful, then, that Someone watched out for her little ones.

Interview with The Glass Castle author

2009-10-30T21:00:00.000-04:00

Once you've finished reading The Glass Castle, by Jeannette Walls, (our November club selection) I recommend you read this interview. It asks questions that I wished I could ask her, such as would she have grown up to be a different person if she'd had three square meals a day and running water.

I'm looking forward to our discussion, and to reading her new book, Half Broke Horses, which is about her mother's mother.

Our visit to The Shack

2009-10-17T06:49:00.011-04:00

Many of us never planned to read The Shack, by William P. Young, because when a book is hyped as this has been, when non-fiction-readers praise it as "the best novel" they've ever read, we're skeptical. But now I think we were glad club members chose it and gave us the opportunity to join what seems to be the rest of the world. I confess I was pleasantly surprised to have enjoyed the story, despite it's being poorly (overly) written.

That's quite a feat: being a poor writer and yet telling a good tale. Mixed metaphors and hackneyed dialog are a lot to overcome. Please, get this man an editor! Others have suggested he should rewrite in order to beef up the theology; I say, rewrite and get rid of half the adjectives.

Here's an example of what I mean, from his discovery of the note from Papa: "It was confusing and painful trying to sort out the swirling cacophony of disturbing emotions and dark images clouding his mind -- a million thoughts traveling a million miles an hour." A cacophony is a swirl of confused sounds, not emotions or images. I was confused, too.

Good writing is invisible. It doesn't cause you to stop and wonder, "What did he just say?" Neither is it overdone. I wrote "Please, stop!" on my little sticky note next to this portion:

"Shortly after the summer that Missy vanished, The Great Sadness had draped itself around Mack's shoulders like some invisible but almost tangibly heavy quilt. The weight of its presence dulled his eyes and stooped his shoulders. [Interjection: How does weight dull your eyes?] Even his efforts to shake it off were exhausting, as if his arms were sown into its bleak folds of despair and he had somehow become part of it. He ate, worked, loved, dreamed and played in this garment of heaviness, weighted down as if he were wearing a leaden bathrobe [What happened to the quilt?] -- trudging daily through the murky despondency that sucked the color out of everything." Whew! Enough already!!

What's good about the story is Young's cleverness at moving the story along. For instance, I worried how he was going to handle the meeting with Papa at the shack. How would God be revealed? Would there be a long debate in Mack's mind whether this really was God or just a crazy person in the woods? What would God do to prove His presence? I thought the way Young devised the denouement was brilliant.

I also worried, nearing the end, how Mack would re-enter daily life and convince his wife his experience was "real." Like him, I wondered how he would even begin to tell her but, again, the author worked it out deftly. Because of the way he crafted the ending, there could only be one explanation for how he had become a fundamentally changed person.

There were other things we liked: his portrayals of God's love (He's with us past, present, and future), his assertions of God's goodness, his emphasis on and insights into relationships (expectancy and response vs. expectations and responsibility). These qualities combine to make this book of great help to the sorrowing, as several have attested. They also serve as an exhortation to those of us who have been in the Faith a while and have sufficient understanding to know a book like this is not to be taken as Gospel Truth. We agreed, however, that The Shack is not recommended reading for unbelievers.

Why? There are several incongruities that make it troubling. I will leave the heavy criticism to others who have been more thorough (and here). I will merely mention a few that occured to me.

1. The author maintains that love is exclusive of authority (hierarchy), but this is simplistic. As you read the Bible, I don't think you can get away from the reality or needfulness of hierarchy -- even pre-Fall. Jude says that dangerous men reject authority; Moses was certainly an authority figure who loved the people he led. So, love and authority are not mutually exclusive, and it's dangerous to speak of God (and the Godhead) as not having authority or instituting hierarchy.

2. Similarly, the author maintains that love means never being disappointed in the object of one's love. This is just silly. (It sounds like the other side of the "Love-means-you-never-have-to-say-you're-sorry" coin.) One club member noted how, as a parent, she can be disappointed in her children without losing her love for them. Another noted how the Bible says our actions can grieve the Holy Spirit. So this is a needless distinction.

3. The book is dangerously disparaging of God's word ("reduced to paper") and His Church. This would appeal to readers who feel alienated from both, and probably accounts for much of the book's popularity, but it doesn't do enough (or anything) to bring them to a proper perspective. How can the psalmist say, "I love your law, O Lord" if God's word is not wonderful?

4. Many other important concepts are only vaguely defined: sin ("is its own punishment"), eternal damnation, and salvation. Readers without the basics can be left to conclude there is no hell and that other ways to God are possible, even if Jesus is "the best way."

For instance, the story of the Indian princess is contrived as a redemption story that Papa approves. But do stories such as this really lead people to Christ, and ultimately to God? Jesus' sacrifice is fundamentally different than the princess' in significant ways. Foremost is Jesus' divinity; his was the perfect sacrifice (he being sinless), while she (although a virgin) died in her own sin. God, satisfied with with Jesus' sacrifice, raised him from the dead. Because of the resurrection, Jesus' sacrifice cared for our deepest problem (death resulting from sin), while the Indians were only temporarily healed and would eventually die.

Many other distinctions could be made, but one other thing occured to me about the princess story: no one (except Will) saw fit to transcribe it, whereas God saw it as necessary to have His story written. He wanted us to know for certain that Jesus is the focal point of history (as The Shack properly avers) and grants eternal life to those with faith in him. The Indians were not required to have faith; her story was handed down as legend, not as Truth. And that's the level on which The Shack exists. It's a good story, but just a legend.

Dissecting The Little Prince

2009-09-19T13:52:00.003-04:00

"The day you stop loving me you can leave with my heart in your hands, and it will be blessed."
"And if you ever love another man, you'll have proven yourself faithless - but I don't want you to leave."

Such are the "vows" spoken between Consuelo (first speaker) and Antoine (second speaker) de Sainte-Exupery shortly before their marriage. They were recorded in The Tale of the Rose, a memoir of their complicated relationship, written by Consuelo a few years after her husband's plane disappeared over southern France.

If, as a college professor taught, you can't know a book until you know its author, and you can't know an author without reading more than one of his books (and books about the author), then you can't understand The Little Prince without including the memoir in your reading. I read The Tale alongside the well-beloved fable, and it did illumine the story.

Antoine, author of The Little Prince, acknowledged his wife as being the rose among roses, the one rose in all the universe who "tamed" him and that he yet abandoned time and again. For Antoine, the rose's planet was too small. He found the rose too demanding, too precious for long close contact. He would roam into the garden of 5,000 roses, be amused by them, and then return. This was a pattern of their marriage.

It could be that, like the little prince, he came to believe, "I should have never run away. I ought to have realized the tenderness underlying her silly pretensions. Flowers are so contradictory! But I was too young to know how to love her." Was Exupery exasperated by his wife? Did he mistrust her? Allow "certain inconsequential remarks" to bother him too much? Was he annoyed by her vanity? Had he failed to appreciate her perfume, and how she lit up his life? We only have his testament and her memoir.

He left unacknowledged how often he would uproot the rose, plant her in another garden, and then leave her alone. Consuelo would adapt, settle in, accustom herself to waiting for him and to being lonely. She would find work and make friends. And then he would reappear, light up her world, and say, "It's time to move!" After the move, he would soon announce, "I must be off!" Thus he would separate her from her "support system" and abandon her again.

Today, we'd call this a controlling personality. He is like the fox, who told the prince how he wanted to be tamed. Antoine wanted Consuelo all to himself, in short increments and only on his terms. This constant upheaval and uncertainty about their relationship caused her tremendous strain; her physical and mental health suffered throughout their life "together." It wasn't until what became the last year or so of his life that they actually lived happily for a space of time while he wrote The Little Prince. Then he was off again near the end of WWII, to save France, and his plane was lost.

It's difficult to read about an untamed man like Exupery. How are we to understand or sympathize with him? But Consuelo keeps you rooted. Her reactions to her circumstances are very normal. She, like you, marvels at his audacity, and yet she is not embittered by him. In the last pages of the book she confirms her love for him and relates some humerous stories that help us see his appeal. He was a charming man, delighting anyone in his presence, and leaving a vacuum in his absence. Childlike to the end of his days, his fable was true for him, if not completely true of himself. A person can write beautifully and not live that way.

-----------
Notable quotes from The Little Prince:

"The proof of the little prince's existence is that he was delightful, that he laughed, and that he wanted a sheep. When someone wants a sheep, that proves he exists."

"'It's a question of discipline,' the little prince told me later on. 'When you've finished washing and dressing each morning, you must tend your planet.'"

"'One must command from each what each can perform,' the king went on. 'Authority is based first of all upon reason.'"

"But the vain man did not hear him. Vain men never hear anything but praise."

"The little prince had very different ideas about serious things from those of the grown-ups. 'I own a flower myself,' he continued, 'which I water every day. I own three volcanoes, which I rake out every week. I even rake out the extinct one. You never know. So it's of some use to my volcanoes, and it's useful to my flower, that I own them. But you're not useful to the stars.'"

"'The only things you learn are the things you tame,' said the fox."

"'Anything essential is invisible to the eyes,' the little prince repeated, in order to remember. 'It's the time you spent on your rose that makes your rose so important. . . . You become responsible forever for what you've tamed. You're responsible for your rose.'"

"The stars are beautiful because of a flower you don't see."

Next selection: The Little Prince

2009-08-23T07:35:00.004-04:00

For this next year, we're adopting a "members choice" format. We'll take turns selecting books, and if anyone draws a blank, they can take a look at our running list of Books We Want To Read Before We Die. We're also hoping to add to our membership.

Slow Reader went first, and had a ready selection in The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery. This tiny book -- only 83 pages! -- can be found in the children's section of libraries. It's also on the shelf at Schuler's. I believe it can even be read online.

But it's thought-provoking and sweet. As one web reviewer said, "The Little Prince appears to be a simple childrens tale, some would say that it is actually a profound and deeply moving tale, written in riddles and laced with philosopy and poetic metaphor." We hope it attracts new members, and encourages old ones to get back to the group.

I found some study notes here.

Gaudy Night discussion

2009-08-23T06:48:00.003-04:00

Dorothy Sayers' romance mysteries -- Strong Poison, Have His Carcase, Gaudy Night, and Busman's Honeymoon -- while delightful, did not engender much discussion. Or maybe we were just not in the mood. Gaudy Night, our main focus, does have plenty of philosophical material in it. The female characters repeatedly discuss the merits of academic life versus marriage. Women of the 1920s and 30s couldn't "have it all." The dons also dissected Harriet's relationship with Lord Peter Wimsey, and debated the aristocracy, while Harriet grappled with these issues on a more personal level. The book does, of course, come to a gratifying conclusion.

The subject of community cropped up again in our thoughts. Characters liken the women's college where the story takes place to a cloister. While the level of commitment a nun makes isn't expected of female academics, the women do study and teach in an enclosure as nearly cut off from society as the abbey of Brede. Outsiders are rare, and visits controlled. Male academics from other Oxford colleges perform services similar to that of the Bishop in House of Brede, offering a "blessing" on a new library.

Next to community life in House of Brede and to "the membership" in Wendell Berry's books, academic life in Gaudy Night pales by comparison. Competition has replaced community. There are friendships (alliances), and if one woman succeeds it helps the college, but the price is fellowship. There's no spiritual bond, no purpose higher than academic acheivement and advancement. Little effort is made to foster grace, compassion, patience, sharing, humility, etc. It's a hollow world.

In This House of Brede discussion

2009-06-04T19:40:00.003-04:00

The five of us enjoyed a good discussion of a book I think we all agreed was worthwhile. It's one of those books that keeps you thinking long after, and wondering "whatever happened to those nuns?"

The first point of discussion was pronunciation. Apparently "Brede" is pronounced the way it looks, "breed," according to an online reference.

We also talked about the strangeness of abbey life to a bunch of Protestants. We're unfamiliar with orders, the hours, the habit, the "grill," the difference between a claustral and a choir nun, and the whole lengthy procedure for becoming one. Much still is mysterious.

But that's due in large part to the book's stream-of-consciousness style. You have to hang on and keep reading in faith that you'll get what's happening -- and to whom -- eventually. And you do.

Rumer Godden just throws you into the middle of the story, in the midst of a crowd of characters, and expects you to swim. Sorry, mixed metaphors. Try "sea of characters." You're given an abbey-full of nuns and you're expected to remember who's who, and figure out what's going on as the story weaves in an out of time periods. (Another metaphor.) But it's okay, you'll get it. It's enjoyable to just relax and let the story take you in.

We tried one or two of the book's discussion questions, but then veered over to Wordsmith's. There were also subjects that each of us wanted to explore, like me. I wanted to talk about art. For all the abbey's seeming asceticism -- which in the Benedictine world is apparently much less than in other orders -- there was a rich artistic culture and the nuns were encouraged to indulge their passions, guided or subsumed by the needs of of the community. It seemed to me that the famous artist who came from the outside to sculpt the altar was the most interesting character in the book, and he had a profound affect on the abbess -- acknowledging her femininity and personhood without demands, with great appreciation. He made her feel beautiful. He "saw" her, despite or maybe because of all the trappings.

Of course, community is a significant topic in the book, and has been in several of our book selections -- Hannah Coulter (Wendell Berry) especially. We discussed the similarities between abbey life and The Membership. And we talked about whether or not abbey life seemed attractive to us.

Well, there was a lot more to the discussion, but I've lost track. I hope others will carry on.

Music to read by: Sounds of the House of Brede

2009-05-13T18:58:00.006-04:00

Well, okay, Brede isn't a real place, but if you want to get a sense of what Dame Cecily was singing, go to NPR for samples of Ancient Music Revived at the Lune Convent. Three selections are available; don't miss the Choral Music for Palm Sunday: 'Miserere' down at the bottom of the page. Wonderful! Okay, and this: Palestrina: 'Kyrie' from Missa Papae Marcelli (Choir of Westminster Abbey). Sublime! One more: Bach's Mass In B Minor: A Cathedral In Sound. Enjoy!

5/18/09 - I found another style of chant music on an album in English: To St. Xenia of Petersburg, Two Canons and a Canticle. Check out 'God is the Lord.'

Another question about In This House of Brede

2009-05-12T18:13:00.004-04:00

As you were reading, did you find yourself wondering what in the world was a "pleached alley"? I looked it up. Encyclopedia Britannica says it's a "garden path, on each side of which living branches have been intertwined in such a way that a wall of self-supporting living foliage has grown up. To treat each side of a garden walk, or alley, with pleaching and thus make a secluded walk was a favourite device of the 16th and 17th centuries. Although most pleaching is done by gardeners, it can also occur naturally. Maples, sycamores, and lindens are commonly pleached." 'Pleached' refers to plaiting or braiding.

Questions for Discussion: In This House of Brede

2009-05-01T10:26:00.000-04:00

I finished In This House of Brede by Rumer Godden in mid-April to make sure it was a good selection for Captive Thoughts Book Club's May discussion. You can read my review here, and I hope that everyone enjoys it as much as I did. Some background information on the author, Rumer Godden, can be found here.

Even though there are discussion questions on the publisher's website, I thought a few more might fuel our discussion, and at least one is specific to our reading schedule this year. I'll post them here in case any other readers or book clubs might find them helpful too. Please add any additional questions in the comments.

Do you think the book is more Phillippa's story or the story of Brede monastery? Does the individual or the community have more prominence? What aspects of or examples from community life can be applicable to any type of community or relationships?

How are the themes of forgiveness and redemption woven throughout the story? Where and how does grace fit in the life of the nuns?

What are some similarities or differences between In This House of Brede and other books that we've read this year? For example, contrast the view of Catholicism here to that in Angela's Ashes or La Reine Margot; compare "The Membership" in Hannah Coulter to the monastic community, especially the idea of enclosure; or compare the role of the nuns to the place of women in the Bronte novels.

When the prioress Dame Beatrice, asked Abbess Catherine, "Which is worse, Dame Veronica exalted or humble?" the Abbess replied, "Humble is more dangerous." (318-319, ch. 16). In light of Dame Veronica's character and personality as well as the incidents in which she was involved, what do you think the Abbess meant by that statement?

Do you think Sister Cecily made the right choice in Chapter 17?

Has your view or understanding of Catholicism, particularly monasticism, changed after reading this book?

Continuing the Bronte Discussion

2009-04-26T17:53:00.011-04:00

I apologize for not contributing soon after our "All Things Bronte" discussion night, but computer problems hindered. And then, I wanted to finish Agnes Grey. That done this afternoon, and the computer refitted with a monster-hard drive, I can post.

We only had three at our April meeting, which was disappointing because we knew others have read and enjoyed the Brontes. We wanted to hear what all had to say, and the blog is your opportunity. Please, post, whether you attended or not. Especially if you did not.

I've just read Page Turner's review of Agnes Grey, and won't add much to it. I found it much more enjoyable than The Tenant of Wildfell Hall (also by Anne Bronte), which I read in time for the book club but felt to be too much like a tract on behavior.

It's surprising to me that Tenant was Anne's second novel (with Agnes the first). Agnes Grey handles narrative more maturely, while Tenant clumsily contrives to be a series of letters and a journal. I say 'clumsily,' because I don't believe anyone would write either at such length, especially characters such as a farmer and a young mother. Furthermore, the journal portion doesn't ring true because it reads as though the writer knows the end from the beginning. No diarist knows what's going to be important until after she has reread her pages and reflected on the themes that keep reappearing. It's written as though she knows she'll need an excuse for leaving her husband. The reader is being set up. Why not use the first-person narrative, as in Agnes Grey? In it, Anne succeeds at having her heroine look back on a hard life in antipation of a more fulfilling future.

Agnes Grey is also a 'tract on behavior,' but less preachy. Tenant is full of tiresome speeches, while Agnes is reflective and interspersed with snippets of action that bear out a point the main character is making. We get her take on the many types that populate her world, as Page Turner describes. I kept having the impression, reading both, that here was the book of Proverbs fleshed out. There's the fool, the slothful person, the mocker, the drunkard, the adulterer, the prudent, the excellent wife, the poor, the humble, the simple.

The main characters of both books desire to be good and faithful. They believe they'll answer to God for their actions, and that being abused is no excuse for letting down standards. They also find hope in the reality of a future where all is made right and where heavenly joys more than compensate for whatever they might have missed on earth.

Anne Bronte seems to have been the most open of the sisters about her faith, although Charlotte certainly used her art to advance morality. (Having read Wuthering Heights long ago, I can't say whether Emily intended Heathcliff and Cathy's doomed love as a warning against unbridled passion, although it has that effect. Someone else want to chime in?) All the sisters seem to have high ideals for marriage and use their novels to spell out what they (and we) should like in a man.

We spent a little time discussing the Victorian ideals for womanhood and manhood. I found an interesting web site call The Victorian Web, on which you can find writings about the Brontes, and on various related subjects (such as The Gentleman; I can't locate what I'd read earlier on ideal womanhood). Tenant, especially, deals with these themes and, while many men in the story put their heroines on a pedestal, I'm not sure Anne sees that as a problem. The virtuous women in her stories seem to not mind being put up there, or being called "angels." It being their duty to supress their own desires in order to serve the whims of their husbands, they see themselves as extensions of their husbands. Nevertheless, the Bronte heroines maintain an understanding of their own personal worth and do not fear independence.

Beginning the Bronte Discussion...

2009-03-31T15:07:00.009-04:00

Although Charlotte Bronte's book The Professor was her last published (post-mortem), it was actually the first novel she wrote and presents Charlotte's ideals of character and idealism of thought. The main character, William Crimsworth, is a man who must learn to live by his wits and abilities. The younger son of a tradesman, and declining his wealthy and titled uncles' connections to the Church and opportunities of matrimony, William first attempts to follow his deceased father's trade. His elder brother's unfriendly and exacting demands, however, and his own abhorence of the trade, force him away from all familial aid and turn him loose to follow another course. He lands on teaching, which suits him well and leads him to Brussels. [There is quite a bit of french dialogue in the book, so if you know any amount of french you'll have opportunity of exercising it here. But even if you don't know any french, don't use that as an excuse for not reading it; you can pick up the jist of the dialogue by context, or make use of a french-english dictionary.]

While teaching in a boys' school, William gains an opportunity to also teach classes in a girls' school. This introduces him to the world of jeune filles and Charlotte begins to paint a picture of the female sex through William's observations: "Let the idealists, the dreamers about earthly angel and human flowers, just look here while I open my portfolio and show them a sketch or two, penciled after nature." He then proceeds to describe the foibles, flaws, and feeble enticements of girls who "belonged to what are called the respectable ranks of society; they had all been carefully brought up, yet was the mass of them mentally depraved." He admits that the schoolroom does not give opportunity for the girls to show off their most charming assets. "In short, to the tutor, female youth, female charms are like tapestry hangings, of which the wrong side is continually turned towards him; and even when he sees the smooth, neat external surface he so well knows what knots, long stitches, and jagged ends are behind that he has scarce a temptation to admire too fondly the seemly forms and bright colors exposed to general view."

Two women catch his notice and William's choice surely projects Charlotte Bronte's idea of the ideal: a woman of intelligence, simplicity, and sensibility; one who is independent in thought yet willing to submit when submission does not require loss of personal or moral freedom; a woman perhaps lacking in outward beauty, but intent on developing moral character and applying to study; a woman strong but quiet, confident but unassuming. What Charlotte is doing at the same time is developing her ideal Man. In William we find some of the same traits of intelligence, rationality (slightly tinged with the romantic), and respect for personal freedom. In many respects Charlotte has presented a surprisingly modern picture.

One of the most interesting conversations comes near the end of the book when William observed to his wife that she was "a good and dear wife to me, because I was to her a good, just, and faithful husband. What she would have been had she married a harsh, envious, careless man - a profligate, a prodigal, a drunkard, or a tyrant - is another question..." If you read this book, let me know what you think of their subsequent conversation.

Review of Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See

2009-03-31T14:38:00.009-04:00

Page Turner has written an excellent review which relieves me of the need to write as much as I might have - please read it! (Find it in the posting below entitled, To Add to Your Reading on China. Thank you, H!) I appreciated this book and wish we could have made it more central to our discussion at the book club meeting. (This is the dilemma of choosing titles we haven't yet read...) Snow Flower brings so much to our theme of the year: women's roles and influences. Quoting Lily (the book's main character and narrator): "Anyone who says that women do not have influence in men's decisions makes a vast and stupid mistake." This book illustrates how women's struggle to define their femininity crosses all barriers of time and culture.

Page Turner has aptly discussed the theme of love, which is especially poignant set in a culture of honor and duty. Lily seems not to even recognize love and must learn, painfully, to value it. Through a series of events that lead to a crisis between Lily and her mother, and Lily's inability to forgive her mother, Lily attempts to hide her feelings, which she cannot understand. This, in turn, "set the stage for what happened later." As Lily writes, "I tried to keep an emotional distance from my mother - though on most days we were in the same room - by acting as though I'd matured into a woman and no longer needed tenderness. This was the first time I would do this - properly follow customs and rules on the outside, let loose my emotions for a few terrible moments, and then quietly hang on to my grievance like an octopus to a rock - and it worked for everyone. My family accepted my behavior, and I still looked like a filial daughter. Later I would do something like this again, for very different reasons and with disastrous results."

Another important theme in the book is the power of words. Learning about nu shu, the women's secret language, was fascinating! [This very real language has only recently died out and was used for over 1000 years!] When she is older, Lily realizes that nu shu is not secret from men, as she had been taught, but that "men just considered our writing beneath them." Men didn't think women had thoughts worth thinking about. How wrong they were! On the contrary, Lily comes to understand "that we learned ... songs and stories not just to teach us how to behave but because we would be living out variations of them over and over again throughout our lives." It is Lily's inattentiveness to the nuances of nu shu that bring about her greatest failure and cause her deepest regret.

It has already been pointed out how insignificant women were thought to be in 19th century China. I would like to know how the practice of foot-binding began, since it served to reduce women's scope of influence. But the women themselves had a part in the continuation of this culture of repression. Mothers bound their daughters' feet. There is a joke Lily explains about the use of cloth to make bride-price gifts and how Snow Flower's (Lily's laotong, best friend, “Old Same”) life was in a sense reshaped by the unusual reuse of this cloth. She ends the explanation by saying: "All of it was women's work - the very work that men think is merely decorative - and it was being used to change the lives of the women themselves."
Finally, I want to note that Lisa See has composed a beautifully-written story. She has gleaned from 19th century Chinese culture both humor and horror, information and wisdom. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is worth reading.

Chinese night

2009-03-21T14:04:00.003-04:00

We should have had our March meeting at a Chinese restaurant, focusing as we did on Red Scarf Girl: A Memoir of the Cultural Revolution, with side dishes of Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress and Snow Flower and the Secret Fan -- all set in China. We spent some time piecing together what little each of us knew about Chinese history, trying to place the books in a time frame.

If you're interested, here's the Wikipedia entry for ancient Chinese history; and here's one about a book written in 18 BC about exemplary Chinese women. (Bear in mind, the title of the book is taken from a neo-Confucianist word used to mean "woman who commits suicide after her husband's death rather than remarry; woman who dies defending her honor.") For the history of modern mainland China, see History of the People's Republic of China.

Glancing through the ancient history entry, I see that the Cultural Revolution wasn't the only tyrannical period in China's history: "An estimated 25 million people died during the Manchu conquest of the Ming Dynasty (1616-1644). . . . The Manchus enforced a 'queue order' forcing the Han Chinese to adopt the Manchu queue hairstyle and Manchu-style clothing. . . . The penalty for not complying was death." Yikes!

Snow Flower and the Secret Fan is set about a thousand years ago, if I remember correctly from the discussion (not having read it myself). Of the three books, it has the most to say about the condition of women, and horrifies with its description of foot-binding. There's also the intrigue of a secret language for women. Be sure to read Page Turner's post below, with a reference to a review of this book on her blog. (We were very glad to see her at this meeting, coming all the way from the far reaches of Indiana!)

Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress is a coming-of-age book about two young men, but there is a significant young woman in the story -- a peasant girl. The young men have been sent to the countryside for re-education, their parents being on the wrong side of the Revolution. They come upon a treasure chest of Western novels, which they devour in their spare time off from grueling labor. The books act almost as a drug on the two teens; they can't get enough. The little seamstress, too, is overpowered as the boys read to her. Ironically, what makes peasant life bearable for them makes it unbearable for her.

The Red Scarf Girl depicts life for a 12-year-old girl as the Cultural Revolution unfolds. An excellent student with high hopes, her patriotism is challenged when she learns her family is also on the wrong side of the Revolution. She's puzzled, frightened, angered, and anguished when her hopes are dashed. As in Life and Death in Shanghai (by Nien Cheng), the rules gradually change and the pressure mounts. Who will be next to be singled out? Will the family's past be discovered? Should Ji-Li head off trouble for herself by renouncing her family?

I found frightening parallels between the mob behavior in Red Scarf Girl with this past week's news about the AIG bonuses. When a news report said that President Obama was "denouncing" the executives, and a US Senator said they should "retire or commit suicide," I had a shock of recognition. "Oh," I thought, "This outrage that I feel over the abuse of my tax dollars by a 'state-owned' company is what the Chinese felt over the abuses of feudal landlords." But the reaction, then as now, goes over the top. As Ji Li Jaing says, the lack of a good legal system is dangerous. She attributes the abuses of the Cultural Revolution to that lack. Without laws in place to prevent abuse and punish abusers, the mob will rule. (See this cartoon for a reference to our own Salem witch trials, and this article on Barney Frank as Madame Defarge.)

I know I haven't done justice to our discussion. I beg the rest of you to chime in.

To add to your reading on China...

2009-03-04T09:15:00.003-05:00

I highly recommend Snow Flower and the Secret Fan by Lisa See to round out your reading on China this month. It is set in rural China in the early to mid-1800's, much earlier than the Cultural Revolution described in Red Scarf Girl: A Memoir of the Cultural Revolution, but I expect that the cultural history and the circumstances of women that it describes might add to our understanding of the Cultural Revolution more than a century later. If nothing else, it is amazing to contemplate the many changes, especially for women, that took place within that century. You can read my complete review here.

Review of Susan Hertog's Anne Morrow Lindbergh

2009-02-24T15:53:00.002-05:00

I just finished Susan Hertog's biography Anne Morrow Lindbergh and want to post some thoughts before I return it to the library. All in all I found it to be an interesting book, covering the story thoroughly, and written adequately well. It provides a good picture of her life, spends no few pages on the kidnapping and death of Charlie and subsequent trial of Bruno Richard Hauptmann, explains Charles and Anne's involvement in pre-WWII politics, and explores the over-all theme of Anne's struggle to reconcile her roles of wife, mother, writer, and woman.

M.S. has already pointed out how popular the Lindberghs were and how the stories of their life took precedence in the news over major world events. It would be very hard for us to understand how this affected Charles and Anne - there are so many famous people in today's world - but they were really the first to gain such immediate and widespread fame. It made their lives nearly impossible to live in a natural way. Furthermore, Charles believed that Charlie's kidnapping and death was proof of the failure of the democratic system and this may explain his support of Hitler's Nazi Germany. I quote from the book:

"Clearly, Charles saw the Third Reich as the embodiment of his values: science and technology harnessed for the preservation of a superior race, physically able and morally pure. While Charles valued democracy in the abstract, he had come to believe that its freedoms were not worth the price. Social and political equality, together with an ungoverned press, had produced a climate of moral degeneracy that had permitted the murder of his infant son. He did not disdain democracy so much as he did the common man - the uneducated and enfeebled masses, typified by Hauptmann, who lived like parasites on the body politic. America wallowed in decadence, the Russians sank into mediocrity, and England and France, at war with themselves, were weak, aimless, and morally defunct. To Charles, Germany under Hitler was a nation of true manhood - virility and purpose. The strong central leadership of a fascitst state was the only hope for restoring a moral world order." (pg 324)

Interesting stuff... The book explores this theme admirably.

The theme of womanhood and Anne's struggle in her marriage to Charles is also well-developed in the book. The people who influenced Anne's thinking, the experiences that shaped her, the places she lived (many), the opportunities she had - the books she wrote - all center around her need to understand her roles and live at peace with herself. Again, I quote:

"Was it possible to reconcile her need to write with the responsibilities of motherhood? She wrote to her cousin Margaret Landenberger Scandrett, that she would not choose to work if it meant denying the needs of her family. 'Deep down in my heart, I don't honestly want to be a "woman writer" any more than I once wanted to be a "woman aviator"... I am not prepared to sacrifice...those advantages and qualities that are truly feminine.'

"Echoing the poetry of Lao-tzu, Anne wrote that a woman must stand at the hub of a wheel that moves toward a larger goal. Creative work was merely one spoke of the wheel, a ray of insight leading to and from a unifying core, essential to the balance of the wheel, without which her life would simply stop turning. Out of this way of life, she wrote, 'some very great art might spring - not much but pure gold.'" (pgs 302-303)

This is my little book report. I would not have read the book had we not chosen Reeve's memoir for our selection - I am not drawn to biographies as a general rule. I think that fascination with the rich and famous - in its various degrees - is telling. But at its best, it serves as a way to better understand ourselves. So I will recommend this book.

All things Lindbergh

2009-02-21T06:55:00.002-05:00

We had another good discussion last Thursday, just the four of us. We were missing a few, but we'd all read enough of and about the Lindbergh's to keep it interesting. Our "assigned" books were Under a Wing by Reeve Lindbergh and The Unicorn and Other Poems by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, but we had all read other books (and articles) in addition to these, which rounded out our understanding of this fascinating family.

(I hope I can do justice to this synoposis of our discussion, but I only remembered my notepad halfway through and, thus, abandoned the idea of taking notes. I won't do as well as Heather in that regard. The rest of you -- please, chime in.)

The Lindbergh's (Charles, Anne, and brood) fascinate because they're probably the first celebrity couple of the modern era. Charles' solo flight across the Atlantic brought him worldwide fame and fortune. He was a hero, one of the last in a long line of explorers and adventureres. (I'm about halfway through the flight, reading The Spirit of St. Louis, Charles' autobiographical Pulitzer Prize winning account of the feat -- you can apparently read it online here!) The kidnapping of little Charles and the trial of his murderer again focussed another worldwide spotlight, this time one more lurid and macabre. (A couple of us had read Susan Hertog's Anne Morrow Lindbergh: Her Life and noted that, at the time of the kidnapping and murder, thousands of Chinese children were being killed in the Japanese invasion, but the front page news was only about one baby in America.) Charles' wartime views brought a wave of criticism. Finally, the revelation after his death that, completely unknown to his wife and family, he had sired three additional families in Europe -- well, what could be more modern than that?

Through the eyes of their youngest daughter Reeve, in Under a Wing, these people and events come down to earth. She describes their personalities as life-sized, not larger-than. Perhaps no one in America was more curious about the flight and the lost baby than Reeve. Her parents were reluctant to talk with family members about the two events that caused the family to live in obscurity and isolation. Then there's the shock she endured in college upon learning her father was considered a Nazi-lover and anti-Semite. A later book, Forward From Here, reveals how she and her brothers dealt with the news of their half-siblings. She's a good writer. Her mother taught her to write every day, to journal, and her books demonstrate the value of that practice, both in the skillful writing that results and in the recollection of insightful detail.

Anne's poetry is simple and accessible. We read a few selections out loud: "Testament," "Bare Trees," and "Second Sowing." Reeve tells, in Under a Wing, how her mother's book had been severely panned by a critic, and that it discouraged her from publishing more poems. In No More Words, a book about her mother's later stages of life, Reeve introduces chapters with Anne's early poetry.

But Reeve didn't only get the "writing gene" from her mother. Charles proves to be equally skillful and insightful. It's an artist that can write, "I take off from Lambert Field [in St. Louis] . . . and set course for New York City. . . . Illinois grain fields ripple in the northwest wind. The Spirit of St. Louis [his plane] has grown with those crops: I conceived the flight last fall when the wheat was planted. Now I'm getting under way with the green blades of spring." Later that flight, he observes, "Manhattan Island lies below me -- building-weighted, wharf-spined, teeming with life -- millions of people in that river-boundaried strip of brick and concrete, ech one surrounded by a little aura of his problems and his thoughts, hardly conscious of the earth's expanse beyond." Okay, the "teeming with life" is cliche, but "building-weighted, wharf-spined" . . . did Anne give him that? He credits her for everything in his dedication.

Finally, I can't help myself, but I'm always looking for references to what they believed. There are references to 'lapsed Presbyterianism,' and the Calvinism of Anne's father, but little personal reference. One chapter (so far) in The Spirit of St. Louis delves into Charles' belief system. He seems to have rejected organized religion -- mainly because it's stuffy and anti-science and separated from the natural world he loves. But then he's intrigued with his great-grandfather, a physician and preacher, and he writes:

"It's hard to be an agnostic up here in the 'Spirit of St. Louis,' aware of the frailty of man's devices, a part of the universe between its earth and stars. If one dies, all this goes on existing in a plan so perfectly balanced, so wonderfully simple, so incredibly complex that it's far beyond our comprehension -- worlds and moons revolving; planets orbiting on suns; suns flung with apparent recklessness through space. There's the infinite magnitude of the universe; there's the infinite detail of its matter -- the outer star, the inner atom. And man conscious of it all -- a worldly audience to what if not to God?"

Related articles:

Lindbergh Family Bashes Biographer
News from 1932, when the baby was kidnapped. And this. It's fascinating that the NY Times has the stories from the time.
Here's a news article about the flight.
This is a story about Reeve discussing Forward from Here and the discovery of the other families.
Here's "breaking news" on the discovery of the other families.
DNA proves L. lead double life

More from Wendell Berry

2009-02-13T22:56:00.005-05:00

In the midst of a major transition, I thought some more Wendell Berry might be just the thing to find some peace and a good reminder of the importance of place, wherever that may be. My review of Nathan Coulter can be found here, if you're interested.

I hope you all have a great meeting next week. I look forward to reading the summary of your discussion of Under a Wing: A Memoir and the poetry of Anne Morrow Lindbergh.

~Page Turner

Books that ask (and answer), "What if?"

2009-01-30T19:42:00.003-05:00

I'm sorry not to add to the discussion of Rebecca, but my mind is on a book I put down last evening - One Thousand White Women: The Journals of May Dodd, by Jim Fergus. I thought it might go well with our theme of books about (or by) women, but I was disappointed. The premise relates to a 1854 incident in which the chief of the Cheyenne requested that the U.S. government give 1,000 white women as brides for his warriors in exchange for peace. It never happened, except in this author's imagination. It's an interesting premise, but not as realized here. Even though it comes highly recommended on the back cover, I found the characters to be contrived (one representative for each ethnic or social group), their dialects clumsy, and the writing without the feel of a journal. I put it down unfinished.

Another book of this type is Michael Chabon's Yiddish Policeman's Union. It asks, what if the United States had given a portion of Alaska to Jews fleeing the Holocaust? Instead of Palestine, they would have a homeland in Sitka for 50 years, after which they would have to assimilate elsewhere. The book takes up just as the 50 years are up, just as the main-character detective is drawn into a murder case that ties together the region's history, politics, society, culture, and angst. Fully conceived and executed. Entertaining, suspenseful, warm, humorous, compelling . . . everything a good book should be. Obviously, the better of the two, IMHO.

All Hannah Coulter, All the Time!

2009-01-27T19:39:00.002-05:00

For everyone who enjoyed Hannah Coulter, there is a blog entirely devoted to discussing it: Hannah Coulter Book Club for Copy Cats. Check it out!

This one's for you, A. B.!!!!

More Discusson about Rebecca

2009-01-27T19:16:00.002-05:00

As mentioned previously, we continued our discussion about Rebecca by e-mail after our January meeting. Instead of cutting and pasting those messages into the comments, we'll just give them their own post, and then the discussion can continue in the comments if anyone would like.

Wordsmith started the discussion:

Thanks for a good dinner, interesting show, and brief discussion. I wish we'd had more time to talk about the book. If anyone's interested in continuing the talk online, I'd like to ask this: do you think the author thought Rebecca's murder was justified?

G.C. answered:

I think the author was trying to "expand our horizons" into the thought that things are more complicated and that there is moral ambiguity. At the time she wrote the novel, moral ambiguity was not a popular concept. While "murder" *(remember that the commandment, properly translated, states that thou shalt not murder.) is most often heinous. It can be justified as Grisham posited in A Time to Kill or understandable as the author posits in Rebecca. It is interesting that the director made a change in the details fo the death much as the director made the change in The Shawshank Redemption. In the movie, the Morgan Freeman character "killed a guy in a bar fight" - it could happen. In the book, the character cut the brake lines on his wife's car and she just happened to have picked up a pregnant friend (or a friend with a child - I forget) before the accident occurred.

Maybe that says something about the expectations of the mental flexibility of "readers" (a niche group) versus movie goes (a broad audience).

I was just watching Tales of the City - The main character says to someone coming home late at night - Welcome to Manderly, I'm Mrs. Danvers. It was "tongue in cheek" scary. I love those literary references. Since I read so much, I usually get them. However, my annotated edition of Lolita (which supposedly has an average reference rate of 1 every other line) remains unread. I liked it fine as just a dirty novel!

Wordsmith responded:

I really appreciate your thoughts, G. C. There was so much we could have discussed - just not enough time! One of our goals in Captive Thoughts is to broaden our understanding, and Rebecca certainly presented a lot to think about. That being said, I'm not sure exactly what you mean by moral ambiguity, but at face value I disagree. There are moral confusions or moral complexities - it's certainly difficult to sort things out - but I do believe in moral absolutes. Life is messy and some webs of wrong (whether actively performed or thrust upon innocents) are impossible to untangle; consequences - fair or unfair - come our way and we must decide what we're going to do with them. But we always have a choice. I haven't read A Time to Kill - maybe it presents a stronger case. I do agree that definitions are important, that murder can be different from killing, that sometimes killing is justifiable. I agree that Rebecca's murder is understandable, but not justifiable. Of course I don't really know what DuMaurier is positing, but it's interesting that Maxim's murder of Rebecca is unneccesary since her disease will do her in. If Maxim had pursued the truth he would have found out that Rebecca wasn't pregnant but dying, and his patience would have freed him from her. (This is why I read the paragraph I did, b/c it points out that if only the truth had been sought, - by a lot of the characters - the outcome would have been totally different.) The consequences of his actions are severe - he loses Manderley and must live as an exile. His psyche is ruined and seems to put the nameless her in more of a position of caretaker than wife. What do the rest of you think?

Page Turner commented:

Those are some great thoughts, Wordsmith. I too pondered the same question (was the murder justified) after I read the book. Du Maurier leads us to sympathize with the characters, which makes it easier to excuse their behavior. But regardless of the circumstances, murder is still murder, and like you said, it is understandable, but not justifiable. I think the many consequences that follow that single act might be the author's subtle indication that she was leading her readers to see the moral implications of murder. I had not thought through all the "what ifs" that you suggested, but that certainly sheds a different light on the matter, too. So much could have been different.

The idea of truth in this novel is another topic we could explore. If you remember, we discussed that when we read The 13th Tale last year. (Have you read that one, G. C.?) Interestingly, it was somewhat gothic, too. I suppose that the question of truth is almost inherent in that genre since things are not always as they seem. Perhaps that's why I like the complexities and perplexities of these stories - the characters' perceptions and misconceptions of truth shape their choices and their lives, and we as readers/observers get the suspense of seeking the truth along with the responsibility of judging the outcome for good or ill. In my opinion, that makes for a fascinating read, both interesting and thought provoking!

REBECCA by Daphne du Maurier ~ January '09

2009-01-23T23:12:00.008-05:00

We had a lot of fun with our January meeting! We read Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier and had a dinner theater, watching the 1940 Hitchcock film of Rebecca, staring Laurence Olivier and Joan Fontaine, while we enjoyed a wonderful meal. The only down side was that we didn't have much time to discuss the novel and the movie adaptation, but we've continued the discussion some by e-mail and can add more comments here.

This gothic romance evokes a period when the roles of men and women were so different. The movie reinforces and even accentuates those roles: the strong, handsome, yet distant male, the timid, fawning wife. We discussed whether the character of the second Mrs. de Winter was really believable. Would someone have really been that smitten and naive to be so blind to the underlying issues troubling Maxim? Was she so eager to please that she couldn't see through Mrs. Danver's duplicity? Given her options of staying with Mrs. Van Hopper or marrying Mr. de Winter, the latter must have seemed to offer a brighter future, but we really thought she should have been more cautious with Mrs. Danver's suggestions for the costume ball. That woman obviously had no good intentions toward the second Mrs. de Winter. (Many of us were frustrated that she was never named in the book or movie, though we understood how it made her even more a shadow of the first Mrs. de Winter!)

We agreed that Mrs. Danvers was portrayed in all her grim and sinister glory by Judith Anderson in the film. Apparently the Masterpiece Theater adaptation of Rebecca seems to indicate that there was something of an unnatural affection between Rebecca and Mrs. Danvers, which further intensified her grief and jealousy over Rebecca's death and the second Mrs. de Winter's presence at Manderley. You could find hints of that in the Hitchcock film if you were looking for it, but it wasn't necessarily obvious.

Our follow-up discussion by e-mail covered the idea of whether Rebecca's murder was justified and the idea of truth in this and other gothic novels like The Thirteenth Tale that we read last year. Please feel free to cut and paste those e-mails in the comments and continue the discussion here.

Happy New Year & January Meeting Update

2009-01-01T09:10:00.000-05:00

We hope that all Captive Thoughts Book Club Members have had a joyful Christmas season and a happy New Year!

Our first meeting of 2009 will happen in just two weeks, on Thursday, January 15th. We are still finalizing the location and a few other details for this meeting because it will be our first movie night to watch Rebecca, the 1940 adaptation of Daphne du Maurier's novel (see link in the side bar), directed by Alfred Hitchcock and starring Laurence Olivier. Don't worry if you haven't started the book yet; it's a really easy read, and I found it to be quite a suspenseful page-turner. I posted my personal review here - you can read it to whet your reading appetite - I haven't given away any of the twists in plot. But even if you aren't able to read or finish the book, please come and watch it with us!

More details will follow by e-mail. Looking forward to a fun evening. . .

The 19th Wife

2008-12-13T10:20:00.001-05:00

I suggested The 19th Wife at our November meeting as a possibility for one of our selections in 2009. But I've since finished it, and I don't really think it would be a good fit for our book club. You can read my review here and draw your own conclusions. There would certainly be plenty to talk about, but I think we have some much better titles to choose from - check out the list here.

Thoughts on Hannah Coulter

2008-12-09T11:00:00.003-05:00

Reading Hannah Coulter was a joy; this book is satisfyingly substantial and beautifully written. Our discussion was profound and has led me down many paths of thought since - one being to wonder whether a return to a more agrarian and "membership" lifestyle might answer a number of the economic, political, and social questions our country is now facing. In that respect, it is a timely read. I'm sure it's not the answer we'll get from Washington; perhaps it's worth thinking about for that reason alone...

Year I in Review: May '08 ~ THREE CUPS OF TEA by Greg Mortenson & A THOUSAND SPLENDID SUNS by Khaled Hosseini

2008-12-07T23:32:00.001-05:00

We had trouble deciding on a book selection for May, so we picked two that we thought might complement each other: Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace . . . One School at a Time by Greg Mortenson and A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. Unfortunately, we found that we were overly ambitious, and for a number of reasons most of our members weren't able to finish both books. This made the discussion a bit more difficult, but there were still plenty of broad topics that we could discuss in relation to these two books. To celebrate the end of our first year, we met for dinner at a local Indian restaurant, the closest we could get to Pakistani or Afghan food.

We used some of the questions from the Penguin Reading Guides for each book to get our discussion started. We talked about the different perceptions of Islam that are presented in each book. Three Cups of Tea takes a very positive approach to recognizing the value of the culture in the Pakistani villages where Greg Mortensen worked. You get the impression that most of these Muslims don't want any part in the extremes of the Taliban. In contrast, the male leaders of these villages seem glad to educate their daughters in order that they might bring advances in medicine and education back to their people. On the other hand, A Thousand Splendid Suns presents the harsh reality of women in a male dominated society, a plight that was made even more desperate with the rise of the Taliban. I still shudder to think of some of the scenes that were described in that novel.

We found it interesting that Greg Mortenson made a point to offer only practical help to the leaders of remote mountain villages in Pakistan. He attributed a good part of his success in building relationships to the fact that he did not have any religious or political agenda. We speculated about how the story might have been different had he brought a Christian message with his schools and other projects.

Although Greg Mortenson's story was amazing, we did find the writing style of Three Cups of Tea to be somewhat lacking and at times annoying. Maybe it was more a journalistic style, as the co-author David Relin is a journalist, not a novelist. He could definitely benefit from reading William Strunk's The Elements of Style.

Only half of our members read A Thousand Splendid Suns by the time of our meeting. Though we didn't have a chance to talk about it, I (Page Turner) thought the character development in this novel was superb. I quickly sympathized with Mariam and found Rasheed despicable. It evoked a wide range of emotions - from tears to shock to anger to hope.

Captive Thoughts members, if you later finished one or both of these books, please add to this summary and discussion in the comments.

HANNAH COULTER by Wendell Berry ~ November '08

2008-11-30T21:07:00.008-05:00

Slow Reader has mentioned elsewhere that we had one of our best discussions in November with the novel Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry. As I've thought about the factors that made this possible, it seems that perhaps this story of life and relationships and growing old helped us to reflect on what is truly of value in our lives. In that reflection, we shared more of our own histories and our own lives with each other than we have in other discussions. This book made us think. It made us compare our lives to the life described by Hannah Coulter (many of us found it easier to personify this fictional character than to refer to the author's presentation of the story). Some compared her story to their family history if it was linked to a farm, and others found a challenge to live more purposefully in the present and future. At the least, all of us came away with a new appreciation for a piece of America that has all but disappeared.

Wendell Berry's ideals are seamlessly interwoven throughout the narrative. Some of our members thought they came through almost like a sermon, but they made others long for a simple and full life closer to the land, a life that seems so elusive in our fast paced urban and suburban lifestyles. Although none of us are in a place where we can fully embrace those ideals even if we wanted to, they certainly gave us reason to examine some of our assumptions and motives for how we live our lives.

We discussed most of the questions listed in a previous post, but two concepts in particular seemed to shape most of our discussion. First, we spent a good deal of time talking about contentment and ambition as related to this passage:

Compared to nearly everybody else, the Branches have led a sort of futureless life. They have planned and provided as much as they needed to, but they take little thought for the morrow. They aren't going any place, they aren't getting ready to become anything but what they are, and so their lives are not fretful and hankering. And they are all still here, still farming... They survive and go on because they like where they are and what they are doing, they aren't trying to get up in the world, and they produce more than they consume...they trade and contrive and make do, getting by and prospering both at once. It doesn't seem to bother them that while they are making crops and meat and timber, other people are making only money that they sometimes don't even work for (152).

It truly gave us pause to consider that this might be a more genuine application of "taking no thought for the marrow" than the more typical (and overly-simplistic) admonition not to worry. (And how many of us succeed at that anyway?) The members of the Branch family referred to above also had little formal education, yet they were self-educated in many practical skills and areas of knowledge that interested them. While all of us Captive Thoughts ladies value education, it also made us wonder if sometimes our pursuit of education can become chasing after the wind.

The other topic that shaped our discussion was the idea of place and community that figured prominently in the novel. Hannah referred to the network of friends and relatives in Port William, Kentucky, as "the Membership." The Membership was tied to the land and to the others who lived there and loved the same land. They knew each other intimately and thus were able to help each other in time of need. In a multitude of ways, these connections to land and people are lost in our culture today. Yet we can still create a place of refuge, a place for roots and heritage and family and community to grow. It will take time and effort, but it is possible. Several of us look forward to reading this recent release for ideas of how to do just that.

I haven't even begun to cover all the ideas we tossed around at our meeting, so Captive Thoughts ladies, please add to this by posting some more thoughts in the comments. What did you think of the book and/or our discussion? Maybe you can share if something in Hannah Coulter or our discussion brought you to a better understanding or changed the way you thought about life. Personally, I think I'll attempt to raise a garden next year! What about you?

FOR FURTHER READING
More fiction about characters in Port William, KY:
Jayber Crow
That Distant Land: The Collected Stories
The Memory of Old Jack
Nathan Coulter: A Novel
Andy Catlett: Early Travels

Non-fiction by Wendell Berry:
The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays of Wendell Berry

By Matthew Bonzo and Michael Stevens (Cornerstone University professors):
Wendell Berry and the Cultivation of Life: A Reader's Guide

Recipe for Dried Apple Stack Cake (we enjoyed this traditional Appalachian dessert at our November meeting!)

Book Group Discussion Questions for Hannah Coulter

2008-11-30T18:07:00.005-05:00

As we prepared for our November discussion, I didn't find any discussion questions for our selection of Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry. As I was reading, I jotted down a few ideas and compiled the following questions before our meeting. Unfortunately, I forgot to print them to take with me, but our discussion still covered most of these topics. Perhaps another book club or reader will find these questions helpful or thought provoking. Links for further reading can be found at the end of this post.

The idea of “place” features prominently in the novel. How does Hannah understand and describe this concept? Can such a place be found apart from the land, or to put it differently, how can a significant place be found outside an agrarian community?
Wendell Berry is known, among other things, for promoting sustainable agriculture, environmentalism, and conservationism, or minimizing one’s impact on the environment. How does he communicate his ideals through Hannah’s voice? Share some specific passages.
Biblical allusions were subtle, but surely present in this novel. Which ones did you notice or particularly stood out to you? What is the role of faith in Hannah Coulter’s life and in the community of Port William?
There is a shift in the narrative between Parts I and II. (chronological narrative vs. reminiscing and directly addressing Andy Catlett) Discuss these differences and what the author might have been trying to accomplish with these changes.
How did Hannah Coulter understand and describe her two courtships and marriages? What were some of the strengths and weaknesses of each of these relationships?
What did you find to be the most surprising thing about this novel? Did it challenge your thinking? Did it make you long for a by-gone era or a rural life? Do you think Wendell Berry’s portrayal of rural life is more realistic or idealistic?

Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress

2008-11-28T20:27:00.006-05:00

Our last discussion, on Hannah Coulter (Wendell Berry), was so good -- probably our best. One of our members said she'd been feeling a deep pull toward rural life, and the book accorded with that. I'm not going to summarize our discussion yet, because as usual I've since read something else that I need to share.

We also discussed what to read during the months for which we still had no titles. Another member suggested we take up Red Scarf Girl: A Memoir of the Cultural Revolution by Ji-li Jiang. It's a memoir about the Cultural Revolution in China. I don't know which month we'll plug it into.

I needed something to read over our holiday break (we don't meet in December), so I went to the library and noticed a display of books by Asian writers. Didn't see Red Scarf Girl, but noticed one with red shoes on the cover. It was Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress, by Dai Sijie. I thought, since it's short and also about the Cultural Revolution, it might be a good companion to Red Scarf Girl.

It is a quick read, and a good story. If anyone wants to supplement their reading for the month we finally do Red Scarf Girl, I recommend this one. It would make for an interesting discussion, especially as it offsets the viewpoint of Hannah Coulter. As the story opens, we learn that the two main characters are being forcibly moved to a back-country village for their re-education. They are "young intellectuals" according to Mao, and need to learn peasant ways. Actually, their "crime" consists of having a high school education and being the sons of medical professionals. Needless to say, this is hardly the idyllic picture of rural life that Wendell Berry paints. Certainly, a move to the countryside should be one's own choice!

I also picked up Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry, which is turning out to be much the same in writing style to Hannah Coulter. I had hoped for a different voice -- didn't care for Hannah's narrative so much -- and this is a slight improvement. There is the same reflective tone -- you can tell it's by the same author -- but this first-person narrative is a bit crisper and more interesting. I think there's more description, and certainly more action, and I have a better sense of who the narrator (the barber of Port William) is. Naturally, a barber (Jayber Crow) is going to have a lot of insight into the town's characters, so that makes it interesting. And he is a friend of Burley Coulter's -- a character we all wished for more of in Hannah Coulter. Actually, this story reminds me a lot of Gilead. Jayber is a solitary person, much like the old, dying pastor in that book.

Isn't it interesting how so many of our books have some relation to each other?

Added later (2/21/09): I just remembered something that I really liked about Jayber Crow. His love is pure and sacrificial. I'd say that it's in contrast to Max DeWinter's, for either of his wives. I don't want to give anything away, so you'll have to read Jayber. But really, do read it. He's a wonderful character.

Another by Alexandre Dumas

2008-11-18T19:26:00.003-05:00

I was interested in reading another of Alexandre Dumas' historical novels after we read La Reine Margot in October. I didn't think I had the time to delve into the 700+ pages of The Count of Monte Cristo (maybe someday), and I wasn't particularly interested in the swashbuckling tales of The Three Musketeers. But I came across The Black Tulip on Amazon, and not only did it have good reviews, but it was under 300 pages, and it was set in Holland (which is fitting for many who live in West Michigan)! I enjoyed this little novel much more than La Reine Margot, and you can read my summary and review here. My local library had this wonderful old copy with such a charming cover ~

Frank McCourt's Teacher Man

2008-11-06T09:18:00.003-05:00

The following was a comment under Angela's Ashes, but I wanted to turn it into a post because a) it's so brilliant : ) and b) I found something to add that really is brilliant and I don't want anyone to miss it. Here's what I wrote before:

Before delving into Hannah Coulter, I sped-read through McCourt's Teacher Man. Unusual for a person with a moniker like mine, I know, but it only took me two days! I think I like this book best of his other two (I'd read 'Tis years ago and can't remember much of it except being disappointed he'd become a drinker, although apparently not a "drunk" like his dad). His accounts of the classroom and his handling of it are fascinating. I'd come to the end of a chapter and decide "just one more." McCourt seems to have floated along in life without guiding principles, but in the end, he adhered to whatever forms or philosophy represented the opposite of his Catholic education. (We're getting quite a Catholic theme going here.) Anyway, other than one scene that seemed unnecessary in its depiction, this is an enjoyable book that rounds out our experience with Frank McCourt (although now I think I'd like to read Malachy's book).

Here's what I wanted to add:

I just read this article by a rabbi who tricked a disinterested classroom into grasping the fallacy of moral relativism. Now this is teaching. You'll enjoy it, and maybe want to use it with your children or students.

Wendell Berry

2008-11-01T16:59:00.003-04:00

I just finished Hannah Coulter and found myself wanting more. Intrigued by the titles of some of his essays as listed with his other writings, I went searching and found this unofficial web site, Mr. Wendell Berry of Kentucky ("unofficial" because he doesn't own a computer and isn't hooked to the Internet). There are links to writings by and about him, including from his book What Are People For?, the answers to which tell a lot about a person. "The Burden of the Gospels," as published in Christian Century, was thought-provoking.

Angela's Ashes controversy

2008-10-25T13:40:00.004-04:00

When we discussed Angela's Ashes, Page Turner mentioned having found an interview with the great late actor Richard Harris in which he refutes Frank McCourt's recollections of Limerick. Harris is a native of Limerick and actually calls McCourt a liar on several points; both versions can't be right. Read the Harris interview here, and McCourt's response here. This controversy makes the story all the more intriguing, especially the questions that Harris raises over the relationship between Frank and Malachy, and between both sons and their mother.

LA REINE MARGOT by Alexandre Dumas ~ October 2008

2008-10-17T23:13:00.007-04:00

Captive Thoughts Book Club met recently to discuss our October selection, La Reine Margot, by Alexandre Dumas, the French 19th century author better known for The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo. This novel was our second attempt to read something related to the very broad theme of women in literature. We found, however, that the title character Marguerite de Valois is not necessarily the protagonist in this novel. Her presence is pervasive and perhaps even symbolic, but the plot focuses as much or more on the Saint Bartholomew's Day Massacre and various intrigues among the French royalty to secure the throne or other positions of power. As the sister of King Charles IX, daughter of the queen mother Catherine de Medici, and wife of Henry of Navarre, a Huguenot who escaped the Massacre and still aspires to the throne of Navarre or even France, Margot is often in the center of the action. Yet she herself is concerned with only two things: love, which she spurns in her marriage but finds in the gallant and handsome young La Mole, and ambition, a goal for which she faithfully conspires with her husband Henry of Navarre.

We did not have any prepared discussion questions since this does not seem to be a popular book club choice! But we had no trouble finding topics to occupy us for a couple of hours. The tension between Catholics and Huguenots is a key element of the story and Slow Reader began our discussion with some background information on this branch of the Reformation in France. Later in our discussion, we commented on the fact that very little was said of God or religion in La Reine Margot. This seemed rather odd given the fact that France was in the midst of the Wars of Religion and the Bartholomew's Day Massacre concerned this very conflict. We weren't sure whether the absence of God and the importance placed on astrology was a subtle commentary by Dumas on the emptiness of religion at this time or if it was an accurate reflection of the 16th century court. At any rate, Dumas himself seemed to be quite secular, and perhaps he brought those assumptions to his portrayal of history.

In keeping with our theme, we talked about the character of Margot, the significance of the book title, and the role of women as depicted for the 16th century French nobility. Margot was known for her beauty and sensuality. It seems that women of this day were generally powerless and thus used their bodies as a means to control their circumstances and destiny. Even so, Margot was a pawn in the hands of her power-hungry family as she had to submit to the arranged marriage with Henry of Navarre, and later the framed charges of treason which led to the death of her lover La Mole.

We discussed the historical accuracy of the novel at some length, for Dumas took quite a bit of license with the details. The explanatory notes were useful for learning what is known of the historical facts of the characters in this time period, but the number of characters and the author's subtle changes made it rather cumbersome to sort out the truth and fiction. In spite of this, most of us thought that once we read through the initial chapters where the many characters (often with similar names) were introduced, the novel moved quickly with plenty of action and suspense.

Along similar lines, we also speculated about what Dumas might have hoped to accomplish, aside from the obvious entertainment value of a fast-paced historical novel revolving around the romance and intrigues of an ancient royal family. There is a good deal of humor in the story, in spite of the carnage of the Massacre and other tragedies. Perhaps he was making a subtle attempt to reveal the pompous vanity of the nobility. For being more than 160 years old, it was not at all difficult to read, at least not in this recently updated English translation. We did find it interesting that our one member who read a different edition, Queen Margot or Marguerite De Valois (Miramax Book), shared a passage that had additional content from the Oxford World's Classics edition. Whichever version you read, La Reine Margot will give you an exciting and suspenseful view of this tumultuous time of history.

All Captive Thoughts Members, please leave additional thoughts and critiques in the comments or in another post to add to this little summary.

Page Turner's personal review can be found here.

Year I in Review: April '08 ~ THE THIRTEENTH TALE by Diane Setterfield

2008-10-10T21:31:00.009-04:00

One of our members had read good reviews and intriguing excerpts from The Thirteenth Tale: A Novel by Diane Setterfield. It was described as a gothic novel (like Jane Eyre or Wuthering Heights) with plenty of literary allusions, so it sounded like something we bookish types might enjoy, as well as something a bit lighter after several months of non-fiction selections. After reading it, however, our members had very mixed reviews - some really enjoyed it and others found it rather disturbing. It did generate good discussion, and from that discussion, we settled on the theme that we are pursuing during our second year.

The Thirteenth Tale tells the story of Vida Winter, a famous, but elusive novelist who is nearing the end of her life and decides to reveal her true story to Margaret Lea, an extremely introverted woman whose life revolves around reading and working in her father's antiquarian bookshop. Miss Winter has fabricated countless accounts of her life story to various reporters over the years, so Margaret is rather uncertain about finding the truth in Miss Winter's story. She takes meticulous notes and visits the sites of Miss Winter's early life, uncovering more complexities along the way. Margaret herself is haunted by a loss in her own life, and as she seeks to unravel Miss Winter's mysterious past, she must face her own memories and fears.

We began our discussion using questions found at the book's website, which unfortunately seems to be out of commission for the time being. While some of those questions were interesting, we didn't find a lot of depth to our discussion there.

We did, however, have some very good conversation about the nature of truth as presented in the novel. Margaret Lea seems to represent a more objective sense of truth as she searches for the facts necessary to make sense of Miss Winter's story. Vida Winter, on the other hand, seems the epitome of post-modernism, since truth has been whatever her imagination could create. As the story unfolds, we understand why Miss Winter fled from the truth, and in the end there is a neat resolution of the intricacies of the story and closure in the lives of almost all the principal characters.

Some of the disturbing details of the dysfunctional home of Vida Winter's childhood overshadowed our discussion of the story itself. The allusion to incest was shocking when encountered in the story, but in retrospect it does fit with the surprise twist near the end and, in that sense, is a key element to unravelling the mystery. One member mentioned several classic novels that have similar instances of incest, and from that idea we began to discuss classics about "fallen" women that we might want to read: Moll Flanders, Vanity Fair, Madame Bovary, and The House of Mirth, to name a few. Thus began our discussion of a theme for our second year, a theme which slowly evolved from a focus on fallen women in the classics to a more general category of the roles and influences of women in both classic and modern literature. Obviously, there is a vast number of books that fall under that broad heading, but we hope we have selected a good variety for this year so far (see schedule in the side bar).

Our members jotted down these brief comments on The Thirteenth Tale at the close of our meeting in April:

"Intriguing and allusive...with good discussion."

"Very unique story, captivating - in the sense of figuring out the truth."

"Good discussion; well-written story; not a favorite, but interesting."

"Yeah, not a favorite, but sparked good discussion - probably more than the writer thought we would find there."

"Well-written but disturbing in parts; good discussion book."

Kristin Lavransdatter

2008-10-04T12:23:00.005-04:00

Captive Thoughts members spent summer '08 immersed in 14th century Norway -- a place none of us had been before -- arrived at by reading the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy. A strange and compelling place, if Sigrid Undset's depiction is dependable.

The characters are all larger than life, and we asssume they must be representative of the culture and myths of Norway. Undset weaves a somewhat mystifying history and odd customs in manageable doses, interspersing the recitation of names and places with moments of intense action and emotional interchange between characters.

The narrative follows the life of Kristin from young girlhood through courtship, marriage, and motherhood to death, and unfolds, as she grows, in greater degrees of detail and insight. Young Kristin is unconcerned for and unaffected by the outer world, as long as she feels secure. Maturing, she stumbles in some decisions and only later realizes their consequences. In adulthood, the full weight of guilt for past sins nearly overwhelms her at times, but she remains undaunted throughout and deserves the title 'heroine.'

The books center around Kristin's love for Erlend -- a love that consumes both, for good and ill. It endures stubbornly through every sort of trial, long past what convention, or even wisdom, would say is sufficient. This was a matter of much discussion in the group. I believe everyone enjoyed the adventure and would recommend it to others.

I didn't really intend to be main reviewer for the series. Instead I wanted to talk about a book that made me think of Kristin when I read it. You can read excerpts here. It's a Bible study called Living in His Forgiveness, by Sandy Day, and is for women who have had abortions. I feel it brings to light what is missing in Kristin Lavransdatter.

There's a restlessness about Kristin Lavransdatter that arises from her spiritual condition and the lack of assurance her religion offers. We agreed that the books were remarkable in their insight into the depth and breadth of a person's guilt, as Kristin experiences it. This is a seriousness and attention to detail often lacking in Protestant circles. But at the same time, where is the joy of salvation, of forgiveness both with God and with man?

Kristin seems to bear her sin forever, to the end of her days. In her last conversation with her father, she is still dredging up past prodigality. (Although Lavrans admits his own sinfulness, he stands in the book as almost untouchably righteous. Has he really forgiven her?) Not long before she dies, Kristin feels compelled to take on one more strange quest -- a pilgrimage to yet again or once more fully atone for a callow youth. Grace is mentioned. The work of Christ is alluded to. But there's no redemption.

Similarly, Living in His Forgiveness presents sin and its consequences in an unsparing light. Testimonies by numerous people delve into the fulness of depravity, relating all the opportunities they'd had to avoid or reject abortion. There is blame to go around -- other people involved in the sin -- but, like Kristin, the writers place its full weight on themselves. They also uncover the various layers of suffering caused by sin, in their own lives and in their relationships with others.

Unlike some post-abortion treatments, these consequences are seen for what they are -- symptoms of a greater spiritual truth: Sin separates us from a holy God. Similarly, the only cure for the symptoms and corrective for the underlying cause is the righteousness of Christ applied to our account. Living in His Forgiveness makes it clear sin is doubly awful because it caused sinless Jesus to be separated from God for our sake, but also that we can live by faith in His forgiveness because of that sacrifice.

The title for the Bible study stands in apt contrast to Kristin Lavransdatter. We can go on, we can live, in God's forgiveness. Each writer speaks of the joy that overtook their lives once they realized they'd been given new life in Christ. While we remember our pasts, we don't wallow, we don't dredge. At the foot of the cross, we stand shoulder to shoulder with others who have also been forgiven.

Speaking of Memoirs...

2008-09-26T22:26:00.013-04:00

Whenever I browse the biography/autobiography section of my library, I always find several titles that look interesting. So when I picked up I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings last January, I also saw this:

The cute baby picture was enough to grab my attention, and the title was even more intriguing: A Girl Named Zippy: Growing Up Small in Mooreland Indiana . Since I love subtle word-plays like Mary Engelbreit's "Life is just a chair of bowlies," anyone who spoke of "Growing up Small" must have a unique perspective on the world. I certainly wasn't disappointed, as this childhood memoir delivers Midwestern charm and humor by a pint-size agnostic with a knack for trouble and accidents. It had me laughing to the point of tears on several occasions. Being a country girl from the Midwest myself, I could certainly identify with elements of her story. It was the perfect light and fun read in between book club selections.

So when I checked out Angela's Ashes for September's book club meeting, I couldn't pass up the sequel to Zippy: She Got Up Off the Couch. This installment is even funnier than the first - I was again laughing so hard I cried, and that was only in the Preface! Haven "Zippy" Kimmel relates her own and her family's story with an honest charm and unique perspective that finds the humor in painful and tragic events and makes even simple incidents hilarious. She Got Up Off the Couch refers to her mother, a woman who had made a lasting imprint in the corner of the couch where she sat for years with her phone, books, and fried pig skins, seemingly a permanent fixture in Zippy's life. But Delonda did get up off the couch, learned to drive, went to Ball State, earned a Bachelor and a Master degree, and became a teacher.

Interestingly, Zippy lives in destitute surroundings, similar to Frank McCourt, but she doesn't seem to mind one bit. It doesn't bother her to wear the same pair of pants for the second half of fourth grade or the same outfit for most of fifth grade. It doesn't matter if her hand-me-down saddle shoes have seen better days - she'd rather not wear shoes anyway. The menagerie of animals that find shelter in their unheated house provide an interesting diversion, apart from the mice that give her nightmares. If her house is too dilapidated to have friends over, she still has plenty of friends who welcome her to their homes, where their mothers feed and bathe her and ensure her general survival. In contrast to the simple innocence of Zippy, however, Haven hints at a mounting undercurrent of tension between her parents as her domineering father and now educated mother develop new lives apart from each other.

She Got Up Off the Couch fits excellently with the theme that Captive Thoughts Book Club is pursuing this year: "the various roles and influences of women in classic and modern literature using both fiction and non-fiction genres." I would certainly recommend it to our members (like Zippy it's a quick read that is easy to fit in between other book club titles) and to anyone else who would like a humorous and, at times poignant view of a 1970's childhood in rural Indiana.

ANGELA'S ASHES by Frank McCourt ~ September 2008

2008-09-21T23:30:00.005-04:00

Captive Thoughts Book Club began our second year by reading Angela's Ashes: A Memoir by Frank McCourt. Our theme for this year is books about women with an emphasis on the classics. While this is the story of Frank McCourt and only indirectly that of his mother Angela, many women feature prominently in his young life. We used the discussion questions found here, which provided many topics for the seven of us to explore.

The memoir begins with the poignant statement, "Worse than the ordinary miserable childhood is the miserable Irish childhood, and worse yet is the miserable Irish Catholic childhood." The extent of poverty and deprivation that the McCourt family endured in Limerick, Ireland is truly tragic, especially because their father drank away his infrequent wages as well as the public assistance they were granted. Yet Frank McCourt has captured the humor, fortitude, and ingenuity that sustained them even in the most destitute of circumstances.

On the topic of the Catholic Church, we found the story of Frank's First Communion just hilarious. Shortly after receiving the host, Frank loses his breakfast in his Grandmother's backyard. She is just horrified, crying "I have God in me backyard," and hurries him off to confession to find out what to do. On a more serious note, there was something of a dichotomy between Catholic piety and true Christian charity. The schoolboys simply learned their lessons and did their duty to conform to social expectations, but even the priests were tainted with social prejudice, turning Frank away from being an alter boy and continuing his education because of his poverty and ragged appearance.

We briefly discussed genre and style, commenting that memoirs, especially those of early childhood, must contain an element of fiction or embellishment. (Maya Angelou's autobiographies have been described as autobiographical fiction.) At the same time, it's possible that family histories were more easily remembered in a largely oral society as Ireland was and is, and there are indeed some remarkable examples of memorization and story telling in the book. The style of Angela's Ashes is unique, for though there is a lot of dialogue, there is nary a quotation mark in the whole book! Run-on sentences and shifts in tense contribute to the childish, stream of consciousness narration. (This only seemed to bother the grammar/punctuation snob known here as The Editor!) Overall, McCourt captures the thoughts and reactions of a child in honest, unpretentious prose.

We speculated quite a bit about the meaning of the title Angela's Ashes. There are several instances in the narrative when Frank's mother Angela stares into the ashes of the fire, usually when she has to endure yet another instance of neglect or injustice for her family. Was she pondering her life, her regrets and lost dreams, or simply resigning herself to her circumstances? Was she falling into the depression to which she was prone after losing three children? And what does Frank intend to communicate with these references? Did he blame or resent his mother's lack of interest more than his father's irresponsibility?

In spite of his father's drinking and neglect, Frank obviously maintained a child-like reverence and love for his father. He knew that he did "the bad thing," but it was easy to forget that when his father shared the paper with him over bread and tea in the morning and helped him with schoolwork in the evenings. Ironically, his father seemed to be the more nurturing of his two parents, and certainly his story-telling, reading, and emphasis on education made a lasting impression on Frank, who went on to become in teacher in America.

Angela is a rather enigmatic figure in Frank's life. In contrast to other very strong and bossy women in the story (his grandmother, aunts, and mother's cousins), Frank's mother often seems to be just a shadow in the corner of the house, waiting for the next good or bad event to befall them. Conversely, whenever they are in the most dire need, she is not too proud to gather bits of coal from the roads, stand in line for public assistance, or even beg at the door of a priest. It seems as if she does barely enough to survive while struggling with depression and despair. Certainly the poor of Ireland had inherited something of a culture of hopelessness after years of oppression and occupancy by England and the potato famine of the 19th century. For many families, poverty and disease were the expected way of life.

The book begins and ends in New York, where the first five McCourt children were born and one died. Though he was ridiculed in Ireland for being a Yank, Frank always had a certain nostalgia for America. Certainly his family was not as wretchedly poor in America, and the thought of returning always held a promise of a better life. After working from age 14, he finally saved enough for his passage and sailed away from his family and Ireland when he was 19. His story continues in 'Tis: A Memoir and Teacher Man: A Memoir.

Most of our members found this memoir to be enjoyable, even if it was at times a bit course and gratuitous (especially during his teen years). Hopefully, they will post their personal comments and critiques. More critical and harsh assessments of Frank McCourt and Angela's Ashes by Limerick natives Gerard Hannan and Richard Harris can be found here and here.

Other books on Ireland that our members have read:
How the Irish Saved Civilization (Hinges of History) by Thomas Cahill. A fascinating and very readable history of Ireland and the monks who preserved classic literature when the rest of the Western world was reeling from the fall of Rome and barbarian invasions. This provided some interesting background information to the Irish psyche that was helpful for understanding parts of Angela's Ashes.

For the Love of Ireland: A Literary Companion for Readers and Travelers by Susan Cahill. A good introduction to Irish literature and great for planning a trip, too!

Some interesting links for book lovers

2008-09-16T20:52:00.003-04:00

I found a couple bookish things online today and thought I'd share. Actually, my husband alerted me to this one: NPR shares a recent release of some recordings of Agatha Christie. What if Miss Marple and Hercule Poirot had met? Then, there's a slideshow of photos from Prince Edward Island, celebrating Anne of Green Gables.

Moral Virtue in Literary Genius

2008-09-14T14:49:00.003-04:00

I'm almost finished with Bel Canto, then will delve into Angela's Ashes. Bel Canto has been a good read, but not wow. There's pretty good character development, foreshadowning, suspense - a well-thought, almost classic plot - but there could have been more all around. Maybe authors these days feel so compelled to keep their audience entertained that they're afraid to go deeper. I'm afraid that this is the way of our culture and it reduces the possibility of great modern literaturists. Bel Canto is good, but it could have been great had the author been more patient.

As we go, it's interesting to feel the differences b/t good and great. There are many good writers out there, but so often their thoughts lack real moral depth. Their characters act, but they don't know why they act. Ahab's Wife was well written, too, but the main character was rather blah - despite her extreme circumstances. She didn't come to any crises of character that led to profound character development. The book spent most of its pages interjecting modern thought onto 19th century American characters w/o giving any substantial reason for it. The author certainly did her research, but did this compel her to intersperse every odd tidbit about the sexual behaviors of men and women forced from each other for long periods of time? Liberation seems to be its theme - liberation from slavery (bravo, although the main character didn't sound willing to get too involved in the issue), from the church (personified in her father who is, of course, cruel and unreasonable), from society (how convenient to be independently wealthy), and from marriage (and did you know that homosexuality was practiced quite openly back then?). Okay, but liberation for what? For the right to live in the deception that we are each the center of our individual worlds? Lord, help us - and I mean this quite literally!

Year I in Review: March '08 ~ A GRIEF OBSERVED by C. S. Lewis

2008-09-13T00:12:00.004-04:00

A Grief Observed by C. S. Lewis was our second selection for the month of March. It was very interesting to compare this volume with Madeleine L'Engle's Two-Part Invention. Madeleine L'Engle's narrative gave a lot of background information that helped us to understand how she dealt with the process of her husband's death, while C. S. Lewis revealed the agonizing questions of one recently bereaved as he wrestled with doubts in the days and months immediately following his wife's death.

We spent a few minutes trying to sort out the timeline of Lewis' relationship with Joy Gresham, for there was not much background information in the text and the explanatory notes vary depending upon which edition you read. Lewis and Joy's love was certainly as deep and strong as Madeleine and Hugh's, but the subtle way in which their romance blossomed after they were united in a civil union and the relatively short time they had together after their "church" marriage, certainly differs from Madeleine's marriage relationship that matured over four decades. We wondered if perhaps the brevity of their relationship, which was overshadowed at all times by Joy's cancer, made Lewis' grief that much more acute. We marveled at the brute honesty with which he questioned God and his faith and were relieved that he once again found a bedrock for his faith in God by the end of the book. Many people wrestle with similar feelings when they are faced with tragedy and personally confronted with the age-old problem of evil (how can a good God let bad things happen?), but it seemed that Lewis was particularly surprised by his questions and doubts. Perhaps with his sharp intellect and well-reasoned apologetics he had supposed that he understood God, but like Job, he was left with no adequate answers when his faith was put to the test.

This is a book that can comfort the grieving, but it really should be read in its entirety lest it lead to despair. For those who are not presently grieving, it can certainly help one to understand the questioning of faith and unsettling of one's worldview that can come with intense tragedy.

RELATED TITLES:
Lament for a Son by Nicholas Wolterstorff - another excellent resource on grief and faith.

A Poem for Lent

2008-09-12T23:04:00.002-04:00

We concluded our discussion of Two-Part Invention: The Story of a Marriage (The Crosswicks Journal, Book 4) and A Grief Observed by reading this poem which was quoted by Madeleine L'Engle in Two-Part Invention. The poem appears without a title in that book, but it is described as being translated from Spanish by a personal friend and is attributed to John of the Cross. It was truly a fitting way to end our discussion and focus our thoughts during the Lenten season.

I am not moved, my God, to love you
By the heaven you have promised me.
Neither does hell, so feared, move me
To keep me from offending you.

You move me, Lord, I am moved seeing you
Scoffed at and nailed on a cross.
I am moved seeing your body so wounded.
Your injuries and your death move me.

It is your love that moves me, and in such a way
That even though there were no heaven, I would love you,
And even though there were no hell, I would fear you.

You do not have to give me anything so that I love you,
For even if I didn’t hope for what I hope,
As I love you now, so would I love you.

Year I in Review: March '08 ~ TWO-PART INVENTION by Madeleine L'Engle

2008-09-12T22:02:00.010-04:00

During the season of Lent, we read two books on the subject of grief, specifically grief for the death of a spouse: Two-Part Invention: The Story of a Marriage (The Crosswicks Journal, Book 4) by Madeleine L'Engle and A Grief Observed by C. S. Lewis (see separate post). Two-Part Invention is the fourth and final book in a series of non-fiction titles that are reflective journals written mostly from Madeleine L'Engle's summer residence of Crosswicks over a period of twenty years or so. The other volumes provide some background and context for her life and ideas, but they each stand alone, so we did not have trouble reading this one by itself.

As the title indicates, this book tells the story of Madeleine L'Engle's forty year marriage to Hugh Johnson. From their whirlwind courtship on tour with a play (Hugh was a professional actor, and Madeleine played smaller parts until family and writing took precedence), to their life as country store owners in rural New England, to raising three children, and living from job to job in New York City, this couple faced a variety of trials and experiences which honed their relationship to one of steadfast, devoted love. Madeleine weaves the story of their forty years together with the events surrounding Hugh's battle with cancer, which sadly brought those years together to an end. Throughout the narrative, she offers insights into marriage and faith that are both thought-provoking and inspiring.

We had a great discussion this month! From Two-Part Invention, we discussed ideas such as blending different faiths in a marriage (Madeleine was raised Episcopal, Hugh was raised Baptist), the need for and efficacy of prayer in life/death situations, the common but misguided idea of God's "blessing" when things go well, and the mystery and majesty of God, especially as seen in the incarnation which "affirms the worth and dignity of man." Many of these themes complemented the soul-searching questions raised in A Grief Observed, and it was very interesting to compare these different responses to the death of a spouse.

We also shared some of poetry during this meeting: one of Madeleine L'Engle's poems that reflected on her marriage and a prayer by John of the Cross that was quoted in Two-Part Invention.

Our members did not record any comments or critiques about Two-Part Invention, but here are some of Page Turner's favorite quotations, several of which provided material for our discussion:

“I learned fairly early in my marriage that I did not have to confide everything on my mind to my husband; this would be putting on him burdens which I was supposed to carry myself…Some of my life was mine to be known by me alone. But our marriage was ours, belonged to the two of us, and was full of wonderful things, terrible things, joyous things, grievous things, but ours.” (73)

“…there are prayers that one is not allowed to pray, such as my ‘Please, dear God, don’t let it be cancer.’ Rabbi Kushner says I can’t pray that way, because right now either it is cancer or it is not. But I can’t live with that. I think we can pray. I think the heart overrides the intellect and insists on praying.” (94)

“I hear different people tell of some good or lucky event and then say, ‘Surely the Lord was with me.’ And my hackles rise. My husband is desperately ill, so where is the Lord? What about that place of excrement? Isn’t that where Love’s mansion is pitched? Isn’t that where God is? Doesn’t such an attitude trivialize the activities and concerns of the Maker? Doesn’t it imply that God is with us only during the good and fortuitous times and withdraws or abandons us when things go wrong? I will have nothing to do with a God who cares only occasionally. I need a God who is with us always, everywhere, in the deepest depths as well as the highest heights. It is when things go wrong, when the good things do not happen, when our prayers seem to have been lost, that God is most present.” (124)

“I do not believe that true optimism can come about except through tragedy.” (147)

“Hugh has been surrounded by literally hundreds of prayers, good prayers of light and love. What happens to all those prayers when not only are they not ‘answered’ but things get far worse than anyone ever anticipated? What about prayer? We do not know. We will not know in this lie. Some prayers are magnificently answered. More than once this has been the case in my own life, glorious miracles of prayer. But this summer the answers have all been negative…Surely the prayers have sustained me, are sustaining me. Perhaps there will be unexpected answers to these prayers, answers I may not even be aware of for years. But they are not wasted. They are not lost. I do not know where they have gone, but I believe that God holds them, hand outstretched to receive them like precious pearls.” (187)

“I loved my husband for forty years. That love has not and does not end, and that is good. I think again of that evening after I had come home from a speaking trip and said to Hugh, ‘Wherever I go, you are with me.’ Surely that is still true.” (230)

FOR FURTHER READING:
The first three titles in The Crosswicks Journal Series by Madeleine L'Engle:
A Circle of Quiet
The Summer of the Great-Grandmother (Crosswicks Journal, Book 2)
The Irrational Season (The Crosswicks Journal, Book 3)
One of Madeleine L'Engle's volumes of poetry: The Weather of the Heart (Wheaton Literary)

Poetry of Maya Angelou

2008-09-05T23:16:00.003-04:00

This poem shares the title of the first volume of Maya Angelou's autobiography I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings that the book club read in February 2008.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks

of another breeze
and the trade winds soft

through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting

on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky

his own.

But a caged bird stands

on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts

on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped

and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat

to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

Another poem that our members enjoyed:

When Great Trees Fall

When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down in tall grasses,
and even elephants lumber after safety.

When great trees fall in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses eroded beyond fear.

When great souls die,
the air around us becomes light, rare, sterile.
We breathe briefly.
Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened, examines,
gnaws on kind words unsaid,
promised walks never taken.

Great souls die and our reality, bound to them, takes leave of us.
Our souls, dependent upon their nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed and informed by their radiance, fall away.
We are not so much maddened as reduced to the unutterable ignorance of dark, cold caves.

And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms, slowly and always irregularly.
Spaces fill with a kind of soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never to be the same, whisper to us,
They existed. They existed.
We can be. Be and be better.
For they existed.

More poems by Maya Angelou can be found in The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou

Year I in Review: February '08 ~ I KNOW WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS by Maya Angelou

2008-09-05T23:00:00.004-04:00

We wanted to read more than fiction in our book club, so in February, we read an autobiography of Maya Angelou and individually selected some of her poetry to read and share. I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings is the first volume of Angelou's life story (other titles are listed below), that recounts her childhood and teenage years, ending with the birth of her son. It was surprising to read of the prejudice and segregation that she experienced as she was raised by her grandmother in Arkansas in the 1930's. That really wasn't so long ago! Yet the town was essentially divided between black and white, and each community existed separately. Even a dentist refused to treat her when she had an agonizing toothache, forcing her grandmother to take her to another town for treatment. Angelou has a remarkable way of describing her life with a child-like vision so that we feel her embarrassment when she wets her pants at church, we sense her befuddled attempts to understand the grown-ups' concerns and conversations, and we feel her pain and confusion when she is molested at the age of eight. Though she was certainly marked by that incident and refused to talk for several years, she learned great powers of observation through listening and eventually found the magic of reading when an older woman began loaning her books. Her command of language is evidence of a well-read woman, though her formal education did not go beyond high school.

In spite of the challenges of her circumstances, Angelou determined to triumph and gain her freedom from stereotypes and prejudices. She completed her education in San Francisco where she moved with her mother at age thirteen. During high school, she became the first black female street car conductor, a job she earned by her determined persistence at the hiring office. In pursuing independence, she became pregnant in a one-afternoon-stand. But she hid the pregnancy as she finished her senior year of high school and gave birth to a son just a few weeks after graduating. This volume closes with her realization of the intense love and protection she feels for her baby boy.

We had plenty to discuss from this book, for it presented a view of life and such a variety of experiences that were foreign to most of us. We laughed over some stories, were shocked by other experiences, and at times inspired by her innovation and ingenuity in the face of difficulties. As mentioned above, each member also tried to read selections of Angelou's poetry. Several of us shared a poem that particularly resonated with us, either for the beauty of the language itself or the way the poetry captured the essence of her story. (See separate post for a couple of poems we liked.) Although we didn't record any comments from this discussion, I think most of our members would recommend this book.

FOR FURTHER READING
Other autobiographical titles by Maya Angelou:
Gather Together in My Name
Singin' and Swingin' and Getting Merry like Christmas
The Heart of a Woman
All God's Children Need Traveling Shoes
A Song Flung Up to Heaven
Poetry by Maya Angelou: The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou

Year I in Review: January '08 ~ GILEAD by Marilynne Robinson

2008-09-02T22:54:00.006-04:00

After a break in December, we returned in January to discuss Gilead: A Novel by Marilynne Robinson. Although our members had varying opinions about the book, we all agreed that its perspective was truly unique: a letter written by an aging pastor to his young son, but more accurately a stream of consciousness portrait of a dying man's attempts to bring his life and relationships to a peaceful end. One might expect such a letter to be full of sage advice and sound wisdom for life, and you will certainly find that here. But these gems are woven throughout John Ames' reflections on his past and present life, it's triumphs and tragedies, including his own family's storied history, his calling to the pastorate, what brought him back to the small town of Gilead, Iowa, his love for the boy's mother (John Ames' second wife, who is 35 years younger than he) and amazement that she loves him, and the long-standing tension in his relationship with his namesake, John "Jack" Ames Boughton, the son of his best friend and fellow pastor Robert Boughton.

Our discussion included speculating about some of the untold details of the story, reflecting on the emotional and logical struggles in John Ames' relationships, and commenting on some of the theological points alluded to in the book, particularly the various views of predestination expressed by different characters.

Here are some comments from our members:

"A beautiful book - worth reading again and marking up for its tidbits of philosophy and theology. I liked it!"

"Ditto - will reread (3rd time) and mark up my copy where the gems are."

"Slow start, but very interesting in the end."

"What an interesting way to tell a story! There is much wisdom to be gleaned from its pages."

See further comments in this post by Slow Reader.

FOR FURTHER READING:

Housekeeping: A Novel This is the first novel by Marilynne Robinson, published more than 20 years before Gilead. A couple of our members have read this, and found it to be a rather odd book, lacking the depth of Gilead. Although this was also an award winning book, we would not necessarily recommended it other than for the comparative value of reading the author's first novel.

Home: A Novel This is a newly released sequel to Gilead that tells the story of some other characters from the first novel, including more from Jack Boughton's perspective. Maybe this will fill in some of the gaps about which we had to speculate!

Books We Want to Read Before We Die

2008-08-29T19:56:00.016-04:00

We're starting a new section -- a running list of books we want to read. We could also call this a 'mental note,' acknowledging a weakness for remembering and a growing dependence on writing things down. Let this be our collective place to store all those scraps of random wishes. To start, I propose . . .

Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky. It's been out for a few years. The author died in Auschwitz and her daugther published the manuscript she left behind. Read more about it here ~ suggested by Slow Reader.

Additional suggestions will be listed in alphabetical order by title or grouped by when they were mentioned at a discussion meeting:

The Blue Star: A Novel by Tony Earley - a sequel to Jim the Boy the inaugural selection of Captive Thoughts Book Club ~ suggested by Wordsmith.

Cranford by Elizabeth Gaskell. A gently comic picture of life in an English country town in the mid-nineteenth century...Rich with humor and filled with vividly memorable characters...Cranford is a portrait of kindness, compassion, and hope ~ suggested by Page Turner.

Girl Meets God: A Memoir by Lauren F. Winner. “A charming, humorous, and sometimes abrasive recollection of a religious coming-of-age . . . a compelling journey from Judaism to Christianity.” —The Atlanta Journal-Constitution ~ suggested by Page Turner.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer. A story told through letters, this novel tells the story of how the inhabitants of the Isle of Guernsey made the most of life under German occupation in WWII ~ suggested by Page Turner.

In This House of Brede by Rumer Godden. Set in Britain, this novel tells the story of the life of nuns in a Benedictine Abbey ~ suggested by Page Turner.

Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach. Fascinating and surprisingly humorous book about dead bodies - what you never knew! ~ suggested by Curious Reader.

The Yiddish Policeman's Union by Michael Chabon. It asks what if, as Franklin Roosevelt proposed on the eve of World War II, a temporary Jewish settlement had been established on the Alaska panhandle? ~ suggested by Slow Reader.

Okay, we're open for business. Add your suggestions for either book club or personal reading by leaving a comment on this post or e-mailing us. (Those from the Club who've actually written down our suggestions during meetings are begged to collect them all here. Hint, hint.)
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Book suggestions from November 2008 meeting:

Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia by Elizabeth Gilbert - after a nasty divorce, the author records her year in search of self, exploring Italy, India, and Indonesia (it's no coincidence that they all begin with "I").

The Glass Castle: A Memoir by Jeannette Walls - "I was sitting in a taxi, wondering if I had overdressed for the evening, when I looked out the window and saw Mom rooting through a dumpster."

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton - taking its name from Ecclesiastes 7:4, this literary classic describes the fall of Lily Bart in turn-of-the-century New York and exposes the failures of the Gilded Age.

Lilith by George MacDonald - Lilith, along with Phantastes, is the fantasy that changed the thinking of C.S. Lewis and influenced him toward Christianity.

The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton - intellectually challenging, worth discussing. Also any of the Father Brown mysteries.

The Mill on the Floss by George Eliot - another example of why classics are enduring, this early 19th century novel is rich in character development and moral consequence.

The Once and Future King by T.H. White - based on Malory's Le Morte D'Arthur, this is a must-read for any Arthurian enthusiast.

The Red Tent by Anita Diamant - told by Dinah, daughter of the biblical patriarch Jacob, this book delves into the lives and intrigues of women in ancient Mesopotamia.

Red Scarf Girl: A Memoir of the Cultural Revolution by Ji-li Jiang - an autobiolgraphy of the author's teenage years during China's cultural revolution. Done! We can check this one off.

Tess of the d'Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy - Hardy, in beautiful if somewhat fatalistic prose, describes the desperate conflict between the classes of 19th century England epitomized in the life of a young woman trying to frame her own destiny.

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith - this novel about a girl coming of age in turn-of-the-century Brooklyn was considered alarming by the genteel society of the 1940's but endures as a story of humor and pathos.
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Wordsmith added in December '08:

The 19th Wife: A Novel by David Ebershoff. From The New Yorker: "Ebershoff demonstrates abundant virtuosity, as he convincingly inhabits the voices of both a nineteenth-century Mormon wife and a contemporary gay youth excommunicated from the church, while also managing to say something about the mysterious power of faith."

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Jotted on a napkin during book club meeting 8/20/09:

The Book Thief, by Zusak

Woman in White, by Wilky Collins

A Prayer for Owen Meany, by John Irving

Life of Pi, by Yann Martel - discussion questions

Home, by Marilynn Robinson

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, by Barbara Kingsolver

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Added by Slow Reader 8/29/09:

Dancing to the Precipice, a biography by Caroline Moorehead based on the memoir of Lucie-Henriette Dillon, lady in waiting to Marie Antoinette. "Lucie survived the French Revolution and three periods of exile in Switerland, America, and England. She served as ambassadress to Holland under Louis XVI and to Brussels under Napolean. She lived to see the restoration of three French kings and, as if all this wasn't enough, the workers' revolt of 1848 that ended so bloodily." As a USA Today review sums up, "a remarkable life by any standard." At 480 pages, it's doubtful this would be a good book club selection, but it sounds like one worthy of aspiration.

Gilead

2008-08-27T18:59:00.007-04:00

I was reminded of Gilead (by Marilynne Robinson) today when someone requested prayer for a man with a heart condition. It occured to me that the book is really all about the condition of another old heart. The old pastor's physical heart is wearing out, and he spends the book examining the state of his spiritual and emotional "heart."

He (sitting here, I can't remember the main character's name) is full of love for his wife, his friend, his son . . . but he's conflicted about how he feels toward his namesake. Has he ever really loved him? Has he forgiven him for his callowness -- a lack of feeling? He can't help but feel affection for this boy/man, but it competes with an intense sense of justice.

He's living with the possibility of his heart giving out at any moment. But it's no different than anyone else's reality. We're all a heartbeat away.

One can't help but think of the old hymn, There is a Balm in Gilead, and the line "that soothes the sin sick soul." I regret that we didn't talk about the significance of biblical references to Gilead during our discussion. Anyone want to chime in?

Year I in Review: November ~ THE POISONWOOD BIBLE by Barbara Kingsolver

2008-08-23T21:36:00.009-04:00

For our second selection, we read a longer, more challenging novel, The Poisonwood Bible: A Novel (P.S.) by Barbara Kingsolver. This novel tells the story of the Price family, a fundamentalist, but somewhat eclectic Southern Baptist family from Georgia who go to the Belgium Congo in the late 1950's with high hopes of converting the natives while maintaining their American traditions, from fashion, to gardening, to birthday cake. But cake mixes prove worthless, seeds fail to grow, fashion is futile, and the natives carry on with their "heathen" ways in spite of the fervent preaching of Nathan Price. In fact, Nathan Price's only lasting impact seems to be in the tragedies that befall his family, a wife and four daughters, who narrate the story. Even after the family is separated after yet another tragic incident, the impact of Africa continues to shape the lives of these women, as their stories unfold over the next 30 years.

We used the questions found on the author's website as a springboard for our discussion, which could have lasted well beyond the two alotted hours. Our discussion spanned such wide topics as missionary naivete, government conspiracies, misguided and misapplied faith, male/female roles and stereotypes, parental influences, and literary structure. Some readers felt that Nathan Price was slighted by not having a voice; do the exclusively feminine voices make it a feminist novel? The picture of Africa was vivid and compelling, moving us to compassion for a people and country who seem to be pawns in an international political and economical game. Overall, we found the novel to be both humorous and tragic, informative and cautionary, and one that we would recommend to others for a thought-provoking read.

Our members recorded the following comments and critiques:

"Eye-opening and thought provoking."

"Much to think about. Well written. Surprising voice. Worth reading again. I give it 4 1/2 stars."

"Excellent character development and interesting variety of perspectives. Broading view of world culture and politics."

"A great exposure to another time and culture."

"An amazing read! The characters were so vivid and challenging, especially the cultural and political aspects."

Year I in Review: October ~ JIM THE BOY: A NOVEL by Tony Earley

2008-08-22T03:21:00.009-04:00

Captive Thoughts Book Club began in October 2007 by reading Jim the Boy : A Novel by Tony Earley. We thoroughly enjoyed this coming of age story with its vivid descriptions of small town life and family relationships. Here are some comments from our members:

"Enjoyed it immensely! Great language, sweet story. I give it five stars!"

"Beautiful, descriptive prose and nice character development."

"A wonderful description of childhood and growing up and great word pictures! I loved its simplicity and depth."

Note: Comments from the first year may be quite brief, since we are compiling these notes many months after our discussions.