Twelve Apostolic Women by Joanne Turpin

Twelve Apostolic Women by Joanne Turpin

This review was originally published in Spiritual Uprising Magazine's May 2014 issue and is reprinted with permission. I encourage you to check out Spiritual Uprising at www.up-ministries.org/spiritual-uprising-magazine.html

I started reading Twelve Apostolic Women by Joanne Turpin as part of my Providence Circle. The goal was that we would read the book chapter by chapter and then get together to discuss. While we haven’t been able to meet as often as we would like, I have read the book on my own.

I think that this book has great insight. For those Christians who are bothered by the seemingly male-dominated quality of Christian history, reading a book about twelve women in the New Testament and learning about their role in the Apostolic era is eye-opening.

Turpin’s writing is good. You can tell in reading her work how much she has studied the Apostolic era—the research she has done into ancient Christian tradition (most of which have been forgotten by all but the academics in the Church) is phenomenal. Most Christians know little about Salome, Mary, the wife of Cleopas, or Tabitha. Most of us have never even heard of Prisca or Lydia. Turpin tells the stories of these women with devotion and full belief.

My primary critique of this book comes from her lack of citations. She will say something and cite it in tradition, but usually never mentions which text to find the story in. She puts complete faith in obscure texts that the Church has never claimed to be true or infallible. Like many Catholics, she tries to get rid of the discomfort of mystery by giving credence to unsubstantiated traditions. Yet, her work allows the reader to connect with scripture in a whole new way. In addition, while some of the traditions she cites might be suspect or have been completely cast off by most Christians (the stories of Mary’s childhood, for example), she also uses finds from modern archaeology to help her tell the story—and that works beautifully.

Turpin’s book is not only educational, but spiritual. She includes great discussion questions that are useful both for a group reading and a personal reading. Each chapter ends with a prayer, making it a great choice for spiritual reading.

In the end, while I would caution readers new to the study of Biblical History to not take everything Turpin says as fact, I would definitely recommend this book as a great read for a group or personal spiritual reading.

Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry

 (I’m having a hard time writing a review for this book because nothing I can say will do it justice. Please, just read the book.)

For the Triduum + Easter, I made my retreat this year by reading Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry. Just as with Jayber Crow, Hannah’s story involves a great deal of reflection on scripture, but especially involves reflection over the line, “Thy will be done,” from the Lord’s Prayer.

Yet, again, it is not a book strictly about theology or faith. This is the story of a woman named Hannah Coulter, told by her as an old woman. She remembers the moments of her life, treasuring them as an old woman sitting alone in her rocking chair.

Berry’s writing is profound. Through Hannah, we experience loss, grief, and the guilt at loving again. We experience acceptance and the healing power of community.  Hannah’s thoughts and reflections over the events of her life made her the perfect companion on my Easter journey this year.

Reading Hannah Coulter was lovely for multiple reasons, not least of all hearing more stories about the characters I fell in love with in Jayber Crow. I long to enter into the books, to take part in the daily life of Port William—a place as real to its readers as the world in which we live and breathe.

Hannah’s story is that of a farm wife, a hard working woman who has known the pleasure of a well-lived life and the pain of children falling away from faith and family. Her story can touch anyone—she is so utterly relatable. I think everyone should read this book.

I give this book 5.5 stars—because 5 stars just aren’t enough.

Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry

Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry

Jayber Crow is probably one of my favorite books of all time, if not my very favorite book. Reading it was like spiritual reading and prayer and rest all at the same time. The line that will probably stick with me longer than any other is when Jayber says, “The Resurrection is more real to me than most things I have not yet seen.”

Jayber’s reading of scripture and his belief in every line of the Lord’s Prayer make up a constant theme running in the background of the novel. Yet, do not be misled: this is not a book about religion or spirituality. The full title is Jayber Crow: The Life Story of Jayber Crow, Barber, of the Port William Membership, as Written by Himself. This is a book about the life of a man named Jayber Crow, told from his point of view as an old man looking back at the life he lived with joy and sorrow, pride and shame. He tells the story of his life with this belief: “I am a pilgrim, but my pilgrimage has been wandering and unmarked.” The pilgrimage he speaks of is not one with marked roads like on el camino, but the pilgrimage of life in which one makes his own way.

The story begins with the tale of how Jayber ended up as a child at an orphanage, then tells of his time there and the time after, during which he thought he was to become a preacher. Then, he ends up (as you knew from the very beginning—it’s the subtitle of the book) in the small township of Port William, acting as their barber.

Jayber’s tale is told with care—with the wisdom of an old man telling his story. Berry’s writing is, as always, masterful. There is an element of the story telling that reminds me of Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried. He tells the story, but often out of order and sometimes two ways.

Jayber writes, “I have raked my comb over scalps that were dirty both above and beneath. I have lowered the ears of good men and bad, smart and stupid, young and old, kind and mean; of men who have killed other men (think of that) and of men who have been killed (think of that).”  Yet, he loves them all—or almost all.

The connections that Jayber Crow makes with the people of Port William define him. They form and shape him. He tells about the old men, farmers who sit and tell stories or bring out their instruments and sing, “I loved to listen to them, for they spoke my native tongue.”

Jayber’s story is about community, about love, and about belonging. I think Jayber’s story can speak to us all. Berry’s expert storytelling gives us an old man that is lovable and relatable, wise and yet, through his reminiscences, in need of wisdom. There is much to learn from the old barber, Jayber Crow.

I recommend this book with all my heart. I give it a sold 5/5, maybe even a 5.5. Read it.

Some favorite quotes:

“The University… was preparing people from the world of the past for the world of the future, and what it was missing was the world of the present, where every body was living its small, short, surprising, miserable, wonderful, blessed, damaged, only life.”

“I became a sort of garden fanatic, and I am not yet over it.”

Of Miss Gladdie Finn: “When she got tired of some of her stuff, she would gather it into her apron and hike off among the neighbors to trade for stuff that they were tired of.”

Of WWII: “What had caused it? It was caused, I thought, by people failing to love one another, failing to love their enemies.”

Of Cecilia Overhold: “Of courses, Cecilia held some secret doubts about herself; you can’t dislike nearly everybody and be quite certain that you have exempted yourself.”

Of Roy Overhold: “Roy lived too hard up against mystery to be without religion.”

“I feel a little weary in calling them “the dead,” for I am as mystified as anybody by the transformation known as death, and the Resurrection is more real to me than most things I have not yet seen.”

“As I buried the dead and walked among them, I wanted to make my heart as big as heaven to include them all and love them and not be distracted. I couldn’t do it, of course, but I wanted to.”

There is much, much more, but for fear of spoiling the story, I will refrain!

The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis

The Horse and His Boy by C.S. Lewis

This review was written for CatholicFiction.net

If you’ve read my book blog before, you know that while I praise Lewis as one of the greatest writers of the last century, I generally avoid doing book reviews of his work. This is primarily because I feel unworthy of writing such a review. As one of my primary influences both in literature and theology, Lewis is one of my heroes. You cannot give an objective review of your hero.

That being said, I want to share with you my thoughts on The Horse and His Boy. Now, The Horse and His Boy is either my first or second favorite of the Narnia series (it goes back and forth between THaHB and The Last Battle).

Unlike most of the books in the Narnia series, The Horse and His Boy is a story of its own, with few references to England and only a small number of hat tips to previous adventures. Fans of the Pevensies get to see King Edmund and Queens Lucy and Susan in their glory (well, Lucy and Ed are in their glory—Susan is silly as ever). A few encounters with the Pevensies as more-or-less grown adults with little memory of their true identities are the extent of direct references to the earlier and later stories. The Horse and His Boy is able to stand alone; yet the story takes place almost entirely in Calormen and Archenland, not in Narnia, which also gives shape to the series as a whole.

The story follows two main story lines. The first is that of Shasta, a young boy who finds out that the fisherman who raised him is not his father when he hears the fisherman plotting to sell him to a Tarkaan. The Tarkaan’s horse, Bree, turns out to be a talking horse from Narnia. Bree, knowing that he cannot escape alone, asks Shasta to be his rider:

“If you can’t ride, can you fall?”

“I suppose that anyone can fall,” said Shasta.

“I mean can you fall and get up again without crying and mount again and fall again and yet not be afraid of falling?”

“I—I will try,” said Shasta. (p.209)*

The other storyline follows a young Tarkheena named Aravis who has escaped her father’s house after finding that her father is giving her as a wife to a much older man. First she planned to take her own life, but was stopped when her own horse, Hwin, reveals that she is also a talking horse and stops Aravis from finishing the act, persuading her to flee instead.

The two storylines collide when the children and their horses meet in the dessert, running from lions. Although they are wary of each other at first, they learn to be friends in the end. They have several short adventures together, trying to get to Narnia where they, and their horses, will be free.

As they are traveling through the capital city and making their way towards Narnia, the two become separated and each child has their own adventure and their own secrets to discover. These adventures in Tashbaan are crucial to both the plotline and the character development for the children. Shasta is given the first hint of his true identity and destiny while Aravis learns that she is made of different stuff than other Calormines and will never be happy among them. Together, they learn things (by listening to conversations that they were not meant to hear) that reveal their quest.

While I have read some complaints on review sites that Aslan does not feature well into this story, I think that is a silly thing to say. As in life when we can look back and see the actions of God in guiding us along, in this book Shasta and Aravis are given the opportunity to see where Aslan gently (and sometimes not-so-gently) guided them, guarded them, and helped them do what they were meant to do. Aslan walks into their lives and brings them to their vocations without them realizing it. In fact, they cannot realize his presence because they do not know. They were not raised learning about the lion who so intimately knows his people, instead they were raised learning about a distant god called Tash and practically worshipping the great Tisroc, their version of a king. They are not like Lucy Pevensie, who always recognizes Aslan before her siblings are able to: Aravis and Shasta must first know who Aslan is before they can recognize him. When they do come to know him, they come truly to know themselves. It is the same for Bree, who is embarrassed by his vanity when Aslan comes before him, and Hwin, whose response to Aslan is perhaps best of all:

Then Hwin, though shaking all over, gave a strange little niegh, and trotted across to the lion.

“Please,” she said, “you’re so beautiful. You may eat me if you like. I’d sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else.”

“Dearest daughter,” said Aslan, planting a lion’s kiss on her twitching, velvet nose, “I knew you would not be long in coming to me. Joy shall be yours.” (p. 299)*

Shasta as a character lacks complexity. I think that Shasta could be characterized as a classic shy introvert: he is awkward and doesn’t know social norms, but he is aware of his lack of knowledge, making him even more awkward. Bree, on the other hand, is exactly what you would expect from a showy warhorse. He is prideful, yet honorable.

If you are looking for a strong female character, look no further than Hwin and Aravis. Where Bree (the male horse) tires out and is prone to cowardice, Hwin gives all she can and is remains the strong, practical voice for the group. Modern readers will also be delighted to encounter Aravis—a strong young woman, capable of taking care of herself but not so independent as to refuse to work with others. She recognizes her faults (admittedly, sometimes after the fact) and is given equal importance to Shasta. Her courage and quick thinking often save the day.

In addition to being a strong female character (neither the first nor the last in this series), I think that Aravis is an extraordinary character in this series for her faith perspective. She is not from Narnia, and therefore not a child of Adam and Eve—meaning she is not part of the sacred lineage that Lewis makes so much of in his other works. Yet, Aslan still appears to her, still corrects her when she is wrong, still loves her gently and fiercely. Aslan’s mercy is also found in another even stranger place: his willingness to forgive and pardon Prince Rabadash, a very flat character who never outgrows his flaws of greed and pride. Aslan’s mercy and love are not limited to what could be called the faith community of Narnia and Archenland—two nations devoted to following Aslan. They extend to all the beings who inhabit the world he created. 

Another thing to note is that while Tash is a false god opposed to Aslan, Aslan is able to work miracles even through the temple of Tash. Lewis is saying here the same thing he repeats in The Last Battle: there are many names for God, there are many ways we recognize him, we cannot limit his power to be simply that which we expect from him. Aslan can work in ways outside of the expectations of his own people. He is, after all, not a tame lion.

I dearly love this book, but in each reading I learn something new—often gaining a deeper insight into what I think Lewis was getting at in writing a book so unlike the others. Ignoring the differences, however, we find that the story is yet another adventure story whose deep theological veins connect with the whole work that is The Chronicles of Narnia.

I give The Horse and His Boy  a 5/5.

*Quotations are cited based on the page numbers in the all-in-one version (978-0-06-623850-0)

When We Were on Fire by Addie Zierman

When We Were on Fire

by Addie Zierman

I received this book for free from 

Blogging for Books

 for this review.

In her memoir about life as an evangelical teen in the WWJD-ridden church of the ‘90s, Addie Zierman reminds us all that sometimes you don’t have to be in a cult to experience a brain-washing, manipulative, and abusive cult-like atmosphere.

In

When We Were on Fire

, Zierman is open and honest about her past. Her writing goes back and forth between telling her story in first person and setting up the scene in the second person, making the reader feel like they are Addie in the story. An unusual but well employed writing style, Zierman helps the reader to relate and identify with both the painful and wonderful experiences about which Zierman writes.

While it’s hard to write a review about someone’s memoirs, I can say that I think this book is brilliantly written. Zierman puts her soul into it, openly sharing the pain and joy of her life with the reader.

I relate to a lot of what she writes. While the Evangelical Church of the 1990’s is well known for brain-washing, no faith tradition is completely free of that experience. What stuns me about her story is how deeply Zierman’s wounds impact her later life. Her memoir is like a combination story and warning: “Find a way to deal with this before you find yourself in my shoes. Work it out. See a counselor before you’re drunk and tempted to cheat on your husband because Church People are coming between the two of you.”

The one thing that really gets me about Zierman’s writing is that she holds nothing back. She is blatantly honest about driving drunk—no apologies, no self-defense. She just states it, the same way she states that as a child sanctity was measured by how many WWJD bracelets you wore. It is a brutal honesty, an honesty that, in my humble opinion, should be forgiven and loved rather than judged. This book is her confession in a sense—and it ends as all Christian stories should end, in hope and resurrection.

For more information about this author, see her website at

http://addiezierman.com/

.

To read the first chapter of this book for free, visit http://www.convergentbooks.com/book/when-we-were-on-fire/

I give

When We Were on Fire

a solid 4/5.

Girl at the End of the World by Elizabeth Esther

Girl at the End of the World by Elizabeth Esther

I received this book for free to review through the Blogging for Books program.

Last night, I read the book Girl at the End of the World by Elizabeth Esther in its entirety. The only bad thing I have to say about this book is the day on which I chose to read it. It was the night before a busy day and I meant only to read a chapter or two, but I became so immersed in her story that I realized I was only a few chapters from the end and it was 2am. I literally could not put it down.

I think that my reaction to this book, from a spiritual perspective, is at first a little odd. Reading EE’s (as she calls herself on her blog) words, it was as if I related to some of the brainwashing experience— but of course, I didn’t actually grow up in a cult and I don’t consider myself brainwashed (every time someone told her that asking questions is a sin, I wanted to call my youth minister and thank him for encouraging questions—faith is so much more real when its your own and not imposed). It’s like she is able to capture so much in her writing that she makes the experience tangible, makes it real. Yet, looking back at the reading experience, I feel like there were many experiences she had that remind me of problems in my own faith tradition, albeit significantly worse. The Assembly seems to me like an extreme version of the already extreme right wing of the Church (the ones who considered themselves more Catholic than the pope when Benedict XVI was still on the throne—many of whom have found their groups being censored by Rome). I find the parallels slightly terrifying, but that’s for another blog.

EE not only grew up in The Assembly, a homegrown, fundamentalist Christian group; the founder of the group, George Geftakys, is her grandfather, giving her at a unique perspective and insight into The Assembly from an early time until its demise. A small Christian sect that easily fits into the “cult” category, The Assembly used brain-washing and mind control tactics (essentially making all members terrified to disagree with anyone in the hierarchy) in addition to abusive corporal punishment on their children in the same line as the Pearls’ (in the book, EE even indicates that she thinks her grandfather’s church was worse than what the Pearls were known for). The Assembly was, along with many similar cults, guilty of misinterpreting scripture to make women submissive in the extreme, blaming every sin of the man on the weakness of the woman.

The interesting thing about memoirs of young people escaping from cults is that you already know the end when you pick it up: they get out. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be writing the story to begin with. With Elizabeth Esther, it’s a little different. Even though I certainly baulked at the things that she was taught in The Assembly, you can tell from her storytelling how intensely she believed the flawed theology that her parents and grandparents passed on to her, how much it hurt her to leave the community that she had been with since birth. You cry with her and agonize over the decision that she must eventually make: to leave The Assembly. It is easy to understand, and empathize with, her reasons for doing so. Yet, it is heartbreaking.

Elizabeth Esther is a phenomenal writer, especially given her past. The opportunity to walk with her on her journey is an opportunity to share sacred moments in her life. Her courage in writing this book and doing the work she does with survivors shines through in her willingness to share intimate and personal details about her life: spiritual, family, everything. She holds little back and it makes the story that much more touching.

If you want to read this book, you can check out the first chapter here. You can find more information on the publisher’s website and on Elizabeth Esther’s page.

I give Girl at the End of the World a 5/5—a rare honor, but deserved.

Note: This book, while wonderful and touching, is an emotional roller coaster. At some points, I sobbed reading it. At other points, my hand was clenched into a fist. I don’t recommend reading this book when you’re already feeling emotionally drained or depressed. It’s a great book, but the same writing that makes it so great also allows you to experience some small piece of the agony with the author, making it dangerous if you’re in an already emotionally unhealthy state.

Pray for Me: The Life and Spiritual Vision of Pope Francis, First Pope of the Americas by Robert Moynihan

Pray for Me: The Life and Spiritual Vision of Pope Francis, First Pope of the Americas by Robert Moynihan

This book was provided to me free of charge as part of the Blogging for Books program.

When I started this book back in November, I was eager to learn more about our new pope. Unfortunately, the book (through no fault of its own!) somehow ended up at the bottom of my reading pile. Now, a year after Pope Francis’ historic election, I have picked it up again.

Pray for Me has three distinct parts. The first part delves deeply into the first few days of Francis’ papacy, from his election to his Palm Sunday Mass. The second reveals some of the elements that have had a deep impact on him and have formed him into the man he is. The third is a collection of his own writings, revealing even more about the man who has succeeded Peter.

The first part goes deeply into those first few days, all the more important to me because during the first five days of Francis’ papacy, I was on mission without access to technology or information about what was going on in Rome. Even now, one year later, these events feel new and eye-opening to a traditional Roman Catholic. In reading this book, have been reminded again and again of the novelty of Francis and of the gift that the Holy Spirit has given our Church.

In the first part, Moynihan’s writing is clear and authentic. He gives us his own take on those first few days and lets us experience with him all that we, on the other side of the world, missed out on. Hearing his experiences talking with other reporters and journalists is also intriguing, it gives us an honest and unique vision of what was going on in Rome at that time.

Part two goes into his family background and his spiritual background, explaining events of his childhood, his calling, and listing five of his “spiritual guides,” (Jonah, Mary, Ignatius of Loyola, Don Luigi Guissani, and, of course, Francis of Assisi). I think that the range of these guides can tell us a lot about the dynamic spiritual life that Francis lives and encourages us to be less narrow-minded in our vision of Heaven. The Catholic Church is supposed to be “universal,” after all.

Part three is illuminating in the writings of Pope Francis, helping us to know him better and understand more fully the remarks he has made since those early days of his papacy.

While I am sure that there are many books out now about Pope Francis, I think that Pray for Me can give a unique perspective on the beginning of this papacy, important now and possibly, more important in the future. I give this book a solid 4/5.

The Doomsday Key by James Rollins

The Doomsday Key by James Rollins

I guess it’s obvious that I’m hooked. It was less than a week ago that I wrote about The Judas Strain and here I am, writing about another James Rollins book. I just couldn’t resist buying one of his books and then I couldn’t put it down.

At first, I was almost afraid to read another of his books, in fear that after the great experience I had with the first one, this one might be a let down. Nope. The Doomsday Key definitely met and exceeded expectations.

Again, the mash up of genres: archaeological adventure, science/medical thriller, historical fiction, and more. This time, there was even more Vatican/Roman Catholic involvement in the plot and, although I’m sure it would be controversial to some, I certainly enjoyed the read.

This time the plot follows a little more in order (or perhaps I am just getting used to Rollins’ writing). Instead of five different storylines to follow, now there are really three primary lines to keep up with, making it much easier to follow when you do have to put it down (darn work!).

The story begins in the modern world (well, during Benedict XVI’s reign as pope), with three gruesome murders across the globe: one, in Rome, of a Vatican archaeologist; the second, in Africa, of a young man working at a Red Cross camp that is also doing research on GMO corn; and the third, of his genetics professor at Princeton. The main story, without ruining too much of the end, follows two key lines. The first, follows the investigation of the link between the second and third murders by Director Crowe, an investigation that reveals a great deal about the engineering going into GMO crops and the very real dangers of planting GMO seed. The second line follows Gray and his team as they follow the clues left by the Vatican Archaeologist, trying to find what it was that got him killed. As the danger mounts, both teams find themselves traveling around the globe to find the answers before it is too late.

The plot ends up involving Saints Bernard of Clairveaux and Malachy, Malachy’s prediction, the Black Madonna, and the ancient Egyptians. I, whose studies of Bernard of Clairveaux were limited to whatever Dr. John Sommerfeldt has told me, had no idea of the complicated conspiracy theories behind these two best-friend holy men. Rollins’ writing is just generous enough to keep from offending while entertaining and educating. Again, Rollins balances his incredible plot with compelling facts from history.

I give The Doomsday Key  a solid 5. And, if you happen to have a copy of any of Rollins’ other books, I would love to borrow them.

The Judas Strain by James Rollins

The Judas Strain by James Rollins

This past week, I was on Alternative Spring Break with my students at the White Violet Center for Eco-Justice. While there, my friend Tracy Wilson lent me her copy of The Judas Strain. After reading only the preface, I simply did not want to put it down.

This book is like all great literary genres and modes all rolled into one. There is the historical fiction telling about Marco Polo’s travels, the scientific/medical thriller in the pandemic that is quickly spreading around the world threatening the entire population, the adventure of being on a ship taken over by pirates, the suspenseful story of the sweet older couple being tracked and tortured by would-be assassins, and the archaeological adventure story of chasing after the mysteries left by Polo’s descendants and later keepers of his secrets. Add to this a mysterious language, Vatican involvement, and the possibility of angels walking on earth and you have The Judas Strain. Even the title invokes memory of Judas betraying Christ, a literary character who has been revisited again and again. Perhaps the most intriguing part of the novel is the amount of seemingly fictional information that the author explains in his note at the end of the novel to be true.

So, you can see how this novel would appeal to me. As a history buff and philologist, as a devout Roman Catholic and employee of the RC Church (7 years running), and as someone who enjoys a good thriller, it is like this book was written just for me. And that’s not to mention that I love science literature and sci fi literature—one of my favorite classes was Faith and Sciences at the University of Dallas, taught by Dr. John Norris.

This was one great book. Explaining why is a challenge and I hope that I’m up to the task.

As a work of literature, it has everything. The characters are well written and you can see how they evolve throughout the story. By using multiple character perspectives, Rollins allows us to see each character through at least a couple lenses. The relationships between the characters are as complex as real-life relationships and following the ways that they change and grow makes the novel that much more real.

The plot is windy. A character met before the first chapter is lost until the end of chapter six. Storylines are dropped for a while and then picked up again, weaving a masterwork that brings multiple events and storylines into one larger story. But, while the plot is thick and takes a lot of concentration to follow at the beginning, eventually you can see how every word written ties into the larger tale.

While reason would lead you to question some of the decisions made (mostly by Vatican agents in the 1600s—I mean, come on, why split up a map into three different clues and hide them all over the world?), the pace of the story quickly gets you caught up in even the most intricate conspiracies. By the end, even the fantastical seems realistic (and, after all, the Church did do some pretty strange things during that century).

The end leaves nothing desired. While open to another story with the same characters and a new adventure, there are no loose ends that leave the reader dissatisfied: only new leads that could lead to a new story. And, as a big fan of Doctor Who, at the end I could almost hear Chris Eccleston saying, “Just once, Rose, just once everybody lives.” In spite of the mass death present throughout the book, at the end, there is no need for tears, only hope. That’s a good book.

I give The Judas Strain a solid 5.

A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

After watching every episode of BBC’s Sherlock, both of RDJ’s Sherlock Holmes movies, and the first season of Elementary (please, Netflix, get season 2 soon!!), I decided it was time to try out the original.

A Study in Scarlet is the first of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s novels about the renowned and beloved detective, Sherlock Holmes. Here, we hear the tale of how Dr. John Watson, back in London after serving in Afghanistan, is seeking out lodgings and finds an old friend, Stamford, who connects him with a man named Sherlock Holmes.  Holmes, having found lodgings beyond his means, is looking for someone to share the cost. It is in this manner that the two, now known as two of the most famous characters from all of literature, first meet.

I feel no need to really review A Study in Scarlet, for Doyle’s work was famous and prized long before I was born and will continue to be so long after I am dead. However, I would like to say a few words about the book that surprised me.

First, as a fan of modern interpretations of Doyle’s work, it was fun—yes, fun—to meet the characters I already loved so dearly in their natural and original realm. I speak not only of Holmes and Watson, but of Gregson and Lestrade. The manner of Holmes’ detective work was also familiar, but even more ingenious than imagined after watching the modern television counterparts. Reading the book also helped me to appreciate the genius of the television writers—especially Moffat, who (given the fact that most long-time Whovians hate him), actually surprises me in his skill of interpreting this well-loved classic.

Second, I have to say I was surprised to find in the second book that Doyle takes the reader to America to discover, without any mention of Sherlock and Watson, the history of the events taking place in London. I was even more surprised to find that this history includes Brigham Young as a villain. How utterly unlooked for! But, in my opinion, how great in imagination and cultural understanding. Doyle is a genius. He’s not the grandfather of so many modern retellings for nothing!

I give this novel a solid 4 and I cannot wait to return to Sherlock in his next adventure.

Three by Kristen Simmons

Three by Kristen Simmons

I first started reading the Article 5 series by Kristen Simmons because my dear friend Hannah recommended it. At that point, only the first book was published. Since then, I have read each book as it came out. I recently finished the third novel in the trilogy, Three.

The Article 5 series is yet another in the long line of recent dystopian trilogies (Hunger Games, Divergent, etc.) to swamp the market. While the book does belong in my category of guilty pleasure/non-intellectual reading, I think it is very good (and I would remind friends that I place Austen, Bronte, and Arthur Conan Doyle in the same category).

The basic plot of the series is that the United States survived some war and the new government has taken over in such a way that limits and endangers the rights of most citizens (as in all dystopian novels of late). This particular new government is set up to mimic the old US government that we know and love, but in reality has very little in common. The government has taken on a religious identity, using moral codes (the articles referenced in the title) to control the population. Of course, like all such regimes, the religious quality is a sham and the leaders of the government care little for morality.

The articles take our Christian moral codes to an extreme that fly in the face of anything Christians should want to stand for. All those who do not follow the moral codes are either murdered (in the case of adults) or taken to a reform school (as Ember is when she is found to be a child conceived out of wedlock). There seems to be no justice in this new government.

In Three, Ember finds out much more about the rebel movement she learned about in the second novel, Breaking Point. The reader also finally is given some idea and background to understand what happened to make this government able to take over. Some might say that this last novel was Simmons’ way of saving her series (many critics said her world lacked substance because there was no history given to explain the current state of things). I, however, enjoyed the series thoroughly.

I would recommend that readers who find Article 5 less than satisfactory continue reading the rest of the series. Simmons’ writing might have been wanting in the first of the series, but by Three she has learned more about her craft. And, the most annoying part of Article 5 (the incessant whining and love-sickness of the young couple, Chase and Ember) has transformed into something that resembles a healthy relationship.

As with other dystopian novels, the criticisms of society found in the Article 5 series are well placed. Simmons reminds us that good things when taken to an extreme turn bad quite quickly.

I give both Three and the series as a whole a 3. I definitely recommend this series when you are looking for something that is interesting and a page-turner, but not overly taxing on the brain (the emotions are another story). I don’t recommend it when you are looking for something happy and simple! Like all dystopian novels, there is no way for a truly happy ending.

Kaitlyn’s Star Guide:

0 stars: Don’t read it. A waste of your time. Worse than Twilight.

1 star: Read only if you’re very tired and desperate for something to read. Will probably rot your brain if you read it too much.

2 stars:  Good for what it is or not my taste.

3 stars: Decent book and worth reading, but not earth-shaking, much less earth-shattering.

4 stars: Really good, definitely something I will re-read sometime. Earth Shaking.

5 stars: Earth Shattering. Every single human being should read this. It should be required for citizenship of the world. Seriously. Why aren’t you reading it yet? LIFE CHANGING.

The Body in the Library by Agatha Christie

The Body in the Library by Agatha Christie

When I was young, probably in the seventh or eighth grade, I saw one of Agatha Christie’s novels in movie format (for the life of me, I cannot remember which). I enjoyed it enough that I picked up copies of a few of her books at a booksale, but never got around to reading any of them. Recently, looking through my shelves for something to read, I found The Body in the Library.

I suspect that for most of my generation, the classic who-dunnit books no longer hold much interest, as we are so used to crime shows and mystery theater that wrap up stories so concisely and beautifully. Actually sitting down and reading a mystery novel in which there is no sex or steamy relationship gossip between the detectives is a far different experience from sitting down to this week’s episode of Criminal Minds, Elementary, or the like. Reading Christie’s novels is really more a practice in patience, for we do not see the truth until the very end. There are no clips of the murder taking place, no visuals or scenes to help us figure out the answer.

Bolstered by my identity as a crime show fan, I began the novel expecting to be able to figure it out before the last chapter. I had forgotten, of course, that Christie’s endings are almost always over-the-top ridiculous and unlikely scenarios. The murderer was so obvious, but his alibi so solid that you began to doubt his guilt and the means were so roundabout that I found myself completely confused before the end.

The basic plot is this: Colonel and Mrs. Bantry are woken up one morning by their very anxious maid, informing them that a dead body has been found in their library. While the colonel calls in the police (Col. Melchett and Inspector Slack), Mrs. Bantry calls her friend, Jane Marple, a local sleuth that seems to figure out the most complex crimes long before the police can work it out themselves. Finding that the young girl, identified by her cousin as a Miss Ruby Keene, was an entertainer at a local hotel (think Penny in Dirty Dancing, only nowhere near as intelligent or talented), Miss Marple and Mrs. Bantry head to the hotel as guests to do sleuthing of their own while the police do their own detective work. Eventually, the former head of Scotland Yard, Sir Henry, gets involved. With a great deal of digging around on the part of all four detectives (and after yet body is discovered and a third murder attempted), it is—of course—Miss Marple who puts the pieces together and clears the name of the framed suspect, finding the real criminals right under their noses.

The writing, of course, is quite good—Agatha Christie was an internationally renown writer for a reason (for she hails from the age when you actually had to be a good writer to be internationally renown… ahem, Stephanie Meyer). The dialect puts you in the time and you can easily imagine the voices and picture the characters. The scenes are described well with just enough left to the imagination that you can envision them in your head.

In spite of the high quality of the book, I did find myself becoming impatient. I wanted to know the ending without having to do the work—I actually considered finding a synopsis online, I was so eager to just know the answer! But this, I think, is the genius of Christie’s writing. At the time it was written (1942), there was no way of finding out the spoilers without simply turning to the last chapter. For those purists who do not read the last chapter first, the idea is to read through as quickly as possible, trying to piece the clues together and figure it out before Miss Marple shows everyone the truth.

About Miss Marple, I do find her character absurdly impossible, but in the same way that Sherlock Holmes (to whom she is compared by Sir Henry) is both absurd and impossible (although, I cannot imagine a modern version of a movie where Miss Marple is anywhere near as attractive as Benedict Cumberbatch or Jonny Lee Miller). She is, in her own way, a compellingly simple yet profound character. I rather liked her a lot and perhaps should find more “Miss Marple Murder Mysteries.”

I think I’ll give The Body in the Library a solid 3.5 stars—a high praise. I probably won’t read it again, but I definitely recommend it for the lover of detective stories. What fun!

Kaitlyn’s Star Guide:

0 stars: Don’t read it. A waste of your time. Worse than Twilight.

1 star: Read only if you’re very tired and desperate for something to read. Will probably rot your brain if you read it too much.

2 stars:  Good for what it is or not my taste.

3 stars: Decent book and worth reading, but not earth-shaking, much less earth-shattering.

4 stars: Really good, definitely something I will re-read sometime. Earth Shaking.

5 stars: Earth Shattering. Every single human being should read this. It should be required for citizenship of the world. Seriously. Why aren’t you reading it yet? LIFE CHANGING.

Saige by Jessie Haas

Saige by Jessie Haas

I have been into children’s books again lately.  After hearing a lot of criticism about the 2013 American Girl of the Year, Saige, I decided to read her book for myself. I checked it out of the local library and read it, and I have to say, I was sort of pleasantly surprised. Still, I have my reservations about Saige.

The Good: I think that, through Saige, Jessie Haas and American Girl are inspiring young girls to be passionate and are teaching the idea that every person can make a difference. Saige decides to try and raise money to hire a part-time art teacher when her school district makes budget cuts. I like that. I think that it is a good reminder (and message for young girls) that the arts are important. Haas reminds parents (who I certainly hope read their daughters’ books) that children who are exposed to art (music, visual art, etc.) are more likely to get good grades and succeed in life. I, as an artist, hate that art is being cut from schools. That a large company like American Girl would devote a whole year to protesting that through their Girl of the Year is kind of cool.

Another good message is that practice is important if you want to be good at something. Saige’s best friend, Tessa, has just come back from a summer-long music camp where she learned that she will have to practice 1,000 hours before she will be a true maestro. Tessa makes up her own practice schedule and diligently works at it. At the end of the story, her work has paid off and her vocal performance is significantly improved. I imagine that if a book character had talked about that when I was a kid, maybe I would have practiced the piano more often, making those four years of piano lessons worthwhile (then again, probably not). However, when Saige is having trouble getting her horse, Picasso, to do the parade walk she needs to do for the big festival, it works out for her even though she didn’t practice as much as she should have. I think that sort of sends mixed signals.

Another good part of the book is that Saige has to navigate her best friend making another best friend and making new friends. That grief is one that most young girls know and I would hope that reading about Saige experiencing it would help young girls.

So, there are a few good morals to be found in the book. Now, about the bad…

The Bad: The thing that I used to love about American Girl books (Molly, Felicity, Kirsten, etc.) is that the girls were more or less ordinary. Molly was a wild child and her adventures had a tendency to get her and her friends in trouble, but she wasn’t some super-talented musician or anything like that. These girls were not superheroes, models, or superstars. They were just girls with stories to tell. 

The girls in Saige are not just girls. Every character in this book is a prodigy at something. Tessa has a voice like a superstar, Saige can paint like a real artist, and Gabi can train a horse she has never met before to do complex tricks in a couple of hours. These girls are supposed to be nine. Does that sound like any nine-year-old you’ve met recently? I mean, at nine years old, I was convinced I wanted to be a writer and I would spend hours writing (mostly bad) stories in notebook after notebook, but I also wanted to be a nun (yes, really) and a computer scientist and possibly a rock star. We’re talking about fourth graders.

I hate to say it, because I really did like the book, but if I was a mom and my nine-year-old daughter had self-esteem issues (and every nine year old girl has self-esteem issues these days), I would not want her reading this book. The message is that everyone has to be extraordinary at something; everyone has to be a prodigy. Even the mean girl in the book, Dylan, gets to be a super awesome musician. There is no one ordinary in this story. Molly, my favorite American Girl, would never have been able to be friends with these girls—and I don’t think I’d want my kid to be friends with them either. Saige makes a conscious effort to be nice, but Tessa and Dylan are pretty stuck up about their talent. Gabi is the best of the four in my opinion, being shy and not overwhelmingly braggy about her talents. Plus, she has to ask her aunt for help when training Picasso.

In a world where children are being overrun by co-curriculars (the new term for extra-curriculars), filling up all their free time trying to fill a resume (because no one tells you until you graduate college that a real resume is only allowed to be one page long and only one of the things you did will fit), I think that a book like Saige sends the wrong message. Kids shouldn’t be expected to be prodigies or to be able to do things that grown adults, who have more practice, education, and experience, can do. Kids should be allowed to be kids.

And, given that the Girl of the Year this year is a ballet dancer (with a super awesome studio!), I’m betting that tradition is continuing this year.

So, in conclusion, I’ll give Saige 3 stars for adults, but 2 stars for the kids it is meant for. I’d rather have my 9 year old kid reading Saige than, say, Twilight, or The Hunger Games, but it’s still not something I would recommend parents. Read the original American Girl books and then find something that will build your daughter’s self image far better than Saige will. I’ve seen what middle school is like these days— chances are, your daughter will need all the self-worth boosters she can get.

Kaitlyn’s Star Guide:

0 stars: Don’t read it. A waste of your time. Worse than Twilight.

1 star: Read only if you’re very tired and desperate for something to read. Will probably rot your brain if you read it too much.

2 stars:  Good for what it is or not my taste.

3 stars: Decent book and worth reading, but not earth-shaking, much less earth-shattering.

4 stars: Really good, definitely something I will re-read sometime. Earth Shaking.

5 stars: Earth Shattering. Every single human being should read this. It should be required for citizenship of the world. Seriously. Why aren’t you reading it yet? LIFE CHANGING.

American Gods by Neil Gaiman

[Warning: Spoilers. If you haven’t read American Gods yet, be aware. ]

I have just now finished reading American Gods by Neil Gaiman. This book was recommended to me by my friend, Anna while we were still in college-- a recommendation that was repeated a few weeks ago by her husband, Andrew. Needing a break from LOTR and having bought the book on kindle’s $2 sale several months ago, I decided to give it a try. I liked American Gods, but I must say that at parts I found it disconcerting just how annoying and/or un-godlike the gods were portrayed. In fact, I almost stopped reading it halfway through. However, now I’m  really glad I stuck with it.

The story is about gods and the humans that they interact with, as well as their interactions with each other. The gods in the story run the gamut of Native American folk legends to J-C Biblical characters to Norse mythology. There was very little in the novel of Greek mythology, therefore taking me out of my element (the reason for Zeus’ absence is probably that this novel is about the gods that immigrants brought to America—literally the American gods—and by the time Greeks were coming over, they weren’t really worshipping their mythological gods to the same extent as other groups).  It was interesting to see the parallels between gods and also the differences, but the best part was perhaps Gaiman’s imaginative expression of how they interact together: friendship, rivalry, and all-out war. The modern American gods: cars, trains, airplanes, and the internet, for example, also make a fantastically annoying appearance (and make me re-think my devotion to every one of them).

The protagonist, Shadow, is a human and an unusual hero. At the beginning, he is in prison and passes his time reading Herodotus (a man after my own heart.)  Yet, as the story progresses and you come to understand him better, Shadow’s presence begins to make more sense. In fact, Shadow is a true hero in the Greek sense and the most tragic kind—his father, who is a God, sacrifices him. He’s a pseudo-Christ-like figure, but unlike in the story of Christ, Shadow’s father is sacrificing him for personal gain. I won’t tell you more, but Shadow’s experiences of life and death (and life again) with the gods is fascinating. Gaiman’s inclusion of a mystery story on the side provides a break from the god drama when necessary.

I would definitely recommend reading this book. It is more of a fun read than an educational one, but it also definitely teaches more about mythology: just be careful, some of the gods are of Gaiman’s own creation. 

Three interesting story elements to look forward to:

1.     Shadow’s undead wife who, after her death, kills anyone who threatens her husband

2.     Roadside attractions are the actual seats of power for the gods, not churches.

3.     The god of technology is described as a fat, lazy kid with a  black trench-coat that reminds me of every Dungeon and Dragons junkie I’ve ever met, only really annoying and really rude

I give American Gods 3.5 stars out of 5.

WARNING: There is some adult content. I wouldn’t let my kid read it if they were under, say, 17.

Favorite Quotes:

“No man, proclaimed Donne, is an Island, and he was wrong. If we were not islands, we would be lost, drowned in each others’ tragedies. We are insulated (a word that means, literally, remember, made into an island) from the tragedy of others, by our island nature, and by the repetitive shape and form of the stories. We know the shape, the shape does not change. There was a human being who was born, lived, and then, by some means or other, died. There. You may fill in the details from your own experience. As unoriginal as any other tale, as unique as any other life. Lives are snowflakes—unique in detail, forming patterns we have seen before, but as like one another as two peas in a pod (and have you ever looked at peas in a pod? I mean, really looked at them? There’s not a chance you’d mistake one for another, after a minute’s close inspection.)

            We need individual stories. Without individual stories we see only numbers: a thousand dead, a hundred thousand dead, “casualties may rise to a million.” With individual stories, the statistics become people—but even that is a life, for the people continue to suffer in numbers that themselves are numbing and meaningless….

We draw our lines around these moments of pain, and remain upon our islands, and they cannot hurt us. The are covered with a smooth, safe, nacreous layer to let them slip, pearl-like, from our souls without real pain.

            Fiction allows us to slide into these other heads, these other places, and look out through other eyes. And then in the tale we stop before we die, or we die vicariously and unharmed, and in the world beyond the tale we turn the pages or close the book, and we resume our lives.

            A life, which is, like any other, unlike any other.

            And the simple truth is this: there was a girl and her uncle sold her.”

“He wondered whether home was a thing that happened to a place after a while, or if it was something that you found in the end, if you simply walked and waited and willed it long enough.”

Kaitlyn’s Book Rating Guide:

0 stars: Don’t read it. A waste of your time. Twilight.

1 star: Read only if you’re very tired and desperate for something to read. Will probably rot your brain if you read it too much.

2 stars:  Good for what it is or not my taste.

3 stars: Decent book and worth reading, but not earth-shaking, much less earth-shattering.

4 stars: Really good, definitely something I will re-read sometime. Earth Shaking.

5 stars: Earth Shattering. Every single human being should read this. It should be required for citizenship of the world. Seriously. Why aren’t you reading it yet? LIFE CHANGING.

Revisiting my Childhood

Every year during the Christmas Holidays, I tend to reread children’s books that I loved when I was a little girl. This year, with my friend having a daughter and my favorite American Girl, Molly, being retired, I have had American Girl on my mind. While I was visiting Half Price during their big after-Christmas sale, I noticed a couple Molly books that I had never read and picked them up. I thought they would give an easy boost to my 2014 challenge of 75 books.

The first of these that I read, The Light in the Cellar by Sarah Masters Buckey, is a mystery based around Molly and her friend, Emily. Molly and Emily get a volunteer job as magazine delivery girls as part of their school’s patriotic efforts (Molly is the American Girl growing up in the Second World War). When they notice that some rationed items have gone missing around town (sugar and tires, for example), they decide that it is up to them to find out who is taking them and why.

This book, in contrast to my past experiences with American Girl books, is actually a longer chapter book. It was, as usual for American Girl, decently well written for the age group it is meant for (ages 8-10). The story deals with complex topics including the racism and ethnic fear that was prevalent during the war.

I enjoyed this trip into the world I had loved as a child. I would certainly recommend this book for any parent of young girls or boys. I would also recommend that parents read it as well in order to discuss certain topics with their children.

The second book, Brave Emily by Valerie Tripp, is a partner to the Molly series that tells the story of Molly’s friend Emily who came to live with Molly’s family all the way from London. Emily’s grandfather gave his dog tags from WWI to Emily before she left for America (a common destination for children during the war, sent away from London for their safety) and told her to be brave for England. Taking his words to heart, Emily searches for a way to be brave for England all the way in the United States. With Molly’s help, Emily finds her chance to be brave and call attention to the dire need of people like her family back in London.

I enjoyed this story as well, perhaps as much for the opportunity to learn more about my childhood favorite’s best friend as for the quality of writing. However, I would definitely recommend Brave Emily to parents of young girls as well.

The Light in the Cellar and Brave Emily continue the longstanding tradition of American Girl books teaching young girls that they are powerful and capable of making great changes in the world. The books also succeed in making a part of history more accessible to children—the original draw of the American Girl series.