Movie Review: Sherlock Holmes Series with Jeremy Brett

In view of the fact that some director has decided to make yet another movie version of the Sherlock Holmes stories, I decided to post some thoughts on what I believe to be the most perfect video series of the Conan Doyle books and the man who will always be, to me at least, the quintessential Sherlock Holmes.

I have seen other variations of Sherlock Holmes in movies, but Brett embodied Holmes like no other. He captures the very essence of Holmes that Conan Doyle portrayed in the books: the fidgeting, the gestures, the voice, everything. His acting might seem a little over the top, but then again so was the character. Brett is simply offering audiences a physical manifestation of what Conan Doyle created in his books, and he does it in a way that is truly brilliant. Apparently, the new movie will have Robert Downey, Jr. in it. No offense to RDJ -- who is an extremely talented actor -- but if the set images I've come across so far are any indication, the movie will probably be on the same scale as the rather diabolical version of Beowulf that was released a year ago or so. (Granted, there are better actors in the upcoming Holmes movie, but it looks as though the director is taking the wrong approach to the stories.) It seems that there's some need to make Holmes "sexy" (and I'm sorry to say that I've even seen a few YouTube fan videos of Brett, commenting on how sexy he is). There really is something seriously wrong with society when the greatest expression of admiration for a person or character is to portray or refer to him as sexy. I don't get it. And I feel like it's a serious violation of the character and Conan Doyle's brilliance in creating him to reduce him to sexiness. But maybe I'm just too far behind the times. (I think I'll stay there, though...)

All of this aside, let me do a quick review of the different movies and series collections in which Brett starred.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

This might arguably be the best set available. Each episode is spot-on, and there's very little deviation from the books. Additionally -- and this is the case in all of the videos -- the setting is amazing. The filmmakers have quite literally reproduced Victorian London perfectly, and 221B Baker Street in excellent detail. David Burke plays Dr Watson in this series, although he is replaced by Edward Hardwicke in the later series. I don't know why, but to be honest it wasn't until my second or third viewing of all the videos that I realized Dr Watson looked different. (Clearly, I haven't learned much from Holmes's methods...) Both actors are obviously so authentic in the role that they kind of melded into one another.

This series covers the following stories:

A Scandal in Bohemia
The Dancing Men,
The Naval Treaty
The Solitary Cyclist
The Crooked Man
The Speckled Band
The Blue Carbuncle
The Copper Beeches,
The Greek Interpreter
The Norwood Builder
The Resident Patient
The Red Headed League
The Final Problem

The Return of Sherlock Holmes

This is probably my favorite series of episodes. Holmes returns -- obviously and quite literally -- from an assumed death, and his zest for life and his eagerness to step back into his previous work and continue solving "those little problems that plague the lives of Londoners" is clear.

This series includes the following episodes:

The Empty House
The Abbey Grange
The Second Stain
The Six Napoleons
The Priory School
Wisteria Lodge
The Devil's Foot
Silver Blaze
The Bruce Partington Plans
The Musgrave Ritual
The Man with the Twisted Lip

The Casebook of Sherlock Holmes

In terms of episodes, this has never been my favorite series for some reason, but I think that's because the stories are darker. That being said, this is still an excellent series and well worth viewing. The acting, as always, is excellent, and the attention to detail is wonderful.

This series includes the following episodes:

The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax
The Problem of Thor Bridge
The Boscombe Valley Mystery
The Illustrious Client
Shoscombe Old Place
The Creeping Man

The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

Jeremy Brett was actually dying when these episodes were being filmed, so there's a decided sadness to them. He's clearly ill, and yet he's still Sherlock Holmes, embracing the character and giving audiences a memorable performance. I'm watching these episodes for the first time right now, and they are definitely worth making part of my collection.

This series includes the following episodes:

The Three Gables
The Dying Detective
The Golden Pince-Nez
The Red Circle
The Mazarin Stone
The Cardboard Box

In addition to the episodes mentioned above, Brett portrayed Holmes in several longer film versions that were (I believe) shown on television:

The Hound of the Baskervilles -- An excellent version.

The Sign of Four -- I'm still waiting for it from Netflix, but I suspect (based on reviews) that it will be very good.

The Last Vampyre -- The acting is excellent, but the storyline is just too bizarre to work. I'd pass on this one, at least as far as owning it.

The Eligible Bachelor -- This one was a major clunker for me. It departed far too much from the original short story and utilized unnecessarily weird filming techniques. Apparently, there were many who enjoyed it (see the Amazon reviews at the link), but I didn't really care for it at all.

The Master Blackmailer -- Still waiting for it from Netflix, but it's gotten good reviews on Amazon. Here's hoping for a great episode.

Book Review: Literary Essays

This was definitely "scholarly reading" week for me. I read two essays, both of which were very interesting but probably very limited to those pursuing certain kinds of studies. I'll discuss each briefly.

"Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Stanzas 32-34"
By Paul Battles (Hanover College)

I'm not entirely sure this can be called a full essay/article, but it was linked as such under Academic Search Premier, so I won't quibble with their methods of classification. For starters, it's very short, and the main focus can be summarized in the following statement about lines 740-743 of Sir Gawain:

Reading [the word] under prepositionally literally heightens the menace of Gawain's surroundings.

If that doesn't tickle your fancy, the rest of the article probably won't. The main argument that Battles seems to be making is that most interpreters have failed to appreciate the directional significance of the poetic lines mentioned above and have thus missed another layer of complexity in the poet's meaning. Battles concludes,

By thematizing th process of perception, the poet prepares the way for Gawain's deception in Fitt 3 and the shocking revelation of his host's identity at the poem's conclusion.

Now, I found this very useful, but I don't expect everyone to feel the same way. I'll definitely have to call this one an acquired taste.

And with that in mind, essay number 2...

"The Story Was Already Written: Narrative Theory in Lord of the Rings"
By Mary R. Bowman (University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point)
Narrative, 14.3 (Oct 2006)

I can't tell you how excited I am to see a literary scholar taking Lord of the Rings seriously. It's a long time coming, I'll tell you that. Everyone accepts the quality of the stories for the purpose of enjoyment, but few scholars seem to feel the need to discuss the significance of them as literature. As Bowman says early in the essay,

Popularity, for a writer of fiction, can be a double-edged sword: Surely writers want their work to be read and appreciated, and royalty checks are always welcome; but some forms of enthusiasitc reception may give other potential readers a misleading impression of what a work is like. Such may be the case with Lord of the Rings. Its popularity with the opt-out culture in the '60s, the prevalence of buttons reading "Frodo Lives" in the '70s, and people in elf costume lining up for movies in this decade have, perhaps, led some to suppose that the work can appeal only to relatively naive readers, that it would not reward the kind of critical analysis that more sophisticated fiction receives.

But Bowman goes on to indicate that Lord of the Rings is indeed very sophisticated fiction, with a metanarrative quality worth further study. By "metanarrative," Bowman is talking about the story-within-a-story-but-also-outside-the-story quality that is discussed from time-to-time in the book. The narrator seems to suggest that everything contained with the novel is a part of the Red Book of Westmarch -- that is to say, Tolkien hints that he is not the author but rather the one who has been given the task of passing the story on -- which gives him distance from it and makes Lord of the Rings (in essence, at least) a free-standing work, intended to function as history instead of literature. Tolkien did the same thing with The Silmarillion: according to him, the stories in that work were not legends and myths that he invented but tales that he was transmitting to others for their enjoyment. In the bigger picture, however, The Silmarillion and Lord of the Rings are linked to the stories that come before and after them and are ultimately just moments or snapshots, shorter stories within the grand story of time.

Within Lord of the Rings, Sam makes a comment along these lines. He realizes that he and Frodo simply have a part to play in the bigger story of history, and he wonders if others will sing about their adventures -- a very self-reflexive statement that suggests the metanarrative quality of Tolkien's work. Bowman concludes that Tolkien's fiction might not resemble the fiction of his contemporaries but that it is no less sophisticated and deserves more appreciation at the scholarly level.

I couldn't agree with her more.

Book Review: Alfred the Great

This is one of the books from my Cambridge reading list, and I finally got around to cracking it open this week. All in all, I have to say that it's probably an acquired taste for those interested in Anglo-Saxon history (and the life of King Alfred in particular), but it does have some excellent features that make it worthy of a more universal consideration.

The version that I read (pictured above) is divided into four parts: (1) "Asser's Life of King Alfred," (2) "The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 888-900," (3) "Extracts from the Writings of King Alfred," and (4) "Miscellaneous Sources for the Reign of King Alfred." As for the biography by Asser, let me take a moment to address the inevitable questions about his name. Yes, he was really called Asser. And apparently, this is the Welsh rendition of the Hebrew name "Asher." I found his biographical notes to be very accessible for modern readers and fairly enjoyable -- even more so than Bede, whom I've always loved reading. The rest of the book is, as far as I'm concerned, rather unnecessary and felt as though the editors desperately needed an excuse to print a book, so they filled it with all the extra stuff about and by Alfred that they could find. Yes, it's interesting to read Alfred's translations from Consolation of Philosophy and St Augustine's Soliloquies, and it's useful to see how he altered the translations to suit the purposes he wanted for them. But without having Boethius and Augustine immediately to hand, it felt very out of context for me, and I couldn't grasp the value in simply reading through all of this. What's more, after Asser (say that five times quickly...) there was a decided lack of continuity to the book, so I just stumbled through it half awake. This book would and will be great as a scholarly resource should I ever need to reference Alfred's will or his translations of the Psalter for a paper that I'm writing. Just reading through it, though? It made me groggy.

Back to Asser, however, I want to note that I recommend his biography of Alfred for high school students who are studying this period in history and the historical figure of King Alfred. I would certainly use it as a homeschool resource in my own home: it's all of about sixty pages and reveals a wonderful perspective on those who knew Alfred personally and respected him. Yes, there's a fair amount of adulation in there about Alfred, but it's not obnoxious, and Asser also reveals a great deal of truly fascinating information about the king: he was a very religious man who was serious about being not only a king but also a good king (and there is a difference, obviously), and he was committed to re-establishing education in England. One of his purposes, interestingly enough, was not merely to ensure that people were educated but to guarantee that those in authority would be able to lead and make decisions effectively, knowing the law, its history, and its purpose. For me, this indicates a great deal of perception of Alfred's part and an appreciation for what education brings to people.

As I mentioned above, I recommend this book (or at least the Asser part) for high school students studying King Alfred. The rest of the book really isn't necessary, but it has some value for research purposes.

Year of publication (Penguin version): 1983
Number of pages: 368

Music: Fauré Nocturnes

Particularly beautiful. Great for a quiet day of reading.




Some Info about the composer -- from Wikipedia
Gabriel Fauré is regarded as the master of the French art song, or mélodie. His works ranged from an early romantic style, when in his early years he emulated the style of Mendelssohn and others, to late 19th century Romantic, and finally to a 20th century aesthetic. His work was based on a strong understanding of harmonic structures which he received at the École Niedermeyer from his harmony teacher Gustave Lefèvre, who wrote the book Traité d'harmonie (Paris, 1889), in which Lefèvre sets forth a harmonic theory which differs significantly from the classical theory of Jean-Philippe Rameau in that seventh and ninth chords are no longer considered dissonant, and the mediant can be altered without changing the mode. In addition, Fauré's understanding of the church modes can be seen in various modal passages in his works, especially in his melodies.

In contrast with his harmonic and melodic style, which pushed the bounds for his time, Fauré's rhythmic motives tended to be subtle and repetitive, with little to break the flow of the line, although he did utilize subtle large scale syncopations, similar to those found in Brahms's works. Aaron Copland referred to him as the "French Brahms."

Fauré's piano works often use arpeggiated figures with the melody interspersed between the two hands, and include finger substitutions natural for organists. These aspects make them daunting for some pianists, but they are nonetheless central works.

Note from me: You can definitely hear those arpeggios in the piece above. So lovely.

Saint Calendar: Vitalian

27 January

Son of Anastasius; nothing else is known of Vitalian before his election to the papacy. Chosen 76th pope in 657. His pontificate was marked by constant conflict with the eastern patriarchs and leaders over their support of Monothelite heresy. Helped settle the conflict between English and Irish bishops over the date of Easter. Sent Saint Adrian of Canterbury and Saint Theodore of Tarsus to England, which strengthened the ties between the bishops there with Rome. Came into conflict with archbishop Maurus of Ravenna who declared his see independent from Vatican control; he and the pope excommunicated each other, and emperor Constans II intervened on the side of the archbishop, and it wasn't until 682 that the controversy ended.

Died January 27, 672.

_____________________________________


Text derived from Patron Saints Index.

Good News, Relatively Speaking

I've just discovered something wonderful -- my library system in Hawaii hosts Academic Search Premier. This basically means that I can track down recent scholarly articles.

Ask me if I'm excited.

My essay reading might now be including some serious scholarly stuff, at least until we move. (They have Todorov!!!) And the nice thing is that I can track down these articles and save them as PDF files for later reading.

Well, I'll just say it: yes, I'm excited.

Book Review: A Doll's House, by Henrik Ibsen

I first read A Doll's House a number of years ago (college, I think?), but I'm glad I read it again. There's a depth to this story that eluded me the first time through but left me quite breathless this time. A part of the problem, of course, is that this is a play, so the dialogue is meant to be spoken by a trained actor and not merely read. I'm not an actor, nor do I have an aspirations to the thespian life, but I tried to take the time in this reading and imagine the story being performed in front of me -- with pauses, with facial expressions, with all of those things that a good actor can convey with and through the words. And by the middle of the play, I realized that this is an amazing story with enormous dramatic potential (thanks to Ibsen, of course, and not to my imagination).

The story is set in a single house in a small town in Norway. Nora Helmer is, by all appearances, happily married to her devoted husband Torvald and has three young children. As the play progresses, though, it becomes clear that Nora and Torvald have a largely superficial relationship: he treats her as though she's another of his children to be spoiled or corrected, and she goes along with this, all the while revealing that she has a far deeper personality than he gives her credit for. Now, this isn't entirely Torvald's fault. Nora seems to like things superficial, until she is faced with something very serious that she has done and realizes that her life is one enormous facade.

It's kind of pointless to reveal the details of the plot (and this isn't a terribly long play, so the story gets into the nitty-gritty rather fast), but suffice it to say that Nora is faced head-on with a crime that's she has committed for the purpose of helping her husband when he was ill. She is afraid for Torvald to find out, though, because his pride could never admit that Nora is anything but an innocent and spotless child that he must protect and keep from any kind of evil. When Torvald does find out, he is furious and horrified and demands that his wife stay away from their children, because of the bad influence that she might have over them. But as soon as he finds out that her crime will not be made public and that it can basically be swept under the rug, he returns to the facade and tries to get things back to the way that they were. By this point, though, Nora realizes that her marriage is no marriage at all and that the stilted paradise in which she has been living is largely a prison of deliberate immaturity. The play actually ends with Nora leaving Torvald so that she can face the world more clearly.

To be honest, I'm not sure what to make of this ending. On the one hand, I'm not keen on a woman walking out on her husband and three children. On the other hand, Ibsen seems to indicate that Torvald cannot and will not change; that his love for Nora depends entirely on her need for him to baby her. Consider his comments when he finds out that Nora's crime can vanish from all memory:

How lovely and peaceful this home of ours is, Nora. You are safe here; I shall watch over you like a hunted dove which I have snatched unharmed from the claws of the falcon. Your wildly beating little heart shall find peace with me. It will happen, Nora; it will take time, but it will happen, believe me. Tomorrow all this will seem quite different. Soon everything will be as it was before. I shall no longer need to remind you that I have forgiven you; your own heart will tell you that it is true. Do you really think I could ever bring myself to disown you, or even to reproach you? Ah, Nora, you don't understand what goes on in a husband's heart. There is something indescribably wonderful and satisfying for a husband in knowing that he has forgiven his wife -- forgiven her unreservedly, from the bottom of his heart. It means that she has become his property in a double sense; he has, as it were, brought her into the world anew; she is now not only his wife but also his child.

That's kind of...disgusting. If my husband said those things to me, I think I'd be hauling us to counseling in a hurry. I still can't see that Nora's decision is the right one, but given her situation -- in a day and age and place when wives were often viewed as possessions, and there were no marriage counselers easily available -- what were her options? Of course, Nora was partially to blame for Torvald's immature treatment of her: she encouraged it during the eight years of their marriage because she liked to play the child, so she might have done well to invest another few years in trying to improve their relationship and turn the "doll's house" in which she'd been living into a real family home with a husband and wife living alongside one another as mature spouses. But I have to remind myself that this isn't Ibsen's thesis of how nineteenth-century women in small Norwegian towns should deal with possessive husbands; this is a fictional story about one woman in one family. And it's very powerful. At the beginning of the play, the reader wouldn't dream of Nora walking out. By the end, it seems like it's her only option.

I do recommend A Doll's House, because it's a classic and because it takes the reader on quite an amazing journey of character development (or rather, revelation). It's something of a dark story, despite the fact that Nora "sees the light" at the end. But it's one of those complex stories that sits with the reader for a while, because there is no easy answer, no simple solution. To me, this can be the best kind of story, even if it is emotionally draining.

Year of publication: 1879
Number of pages: 100

Book Review: Essays Presented to Charles Williams, ed. by C.S. Lewis

I actually found this book by doing a search for "C.S. Lewis" at my library, and when I realized that it contained essays by several authors I enjoy reading I decided to add it to my Essay Challenge reading list. The book contains six essays, four of which I read:

1) " '...And Telling you a Story': a Note on The Divine Comedy," by Dorothy Sayers
2) "On Stories," by C.S. Lewis
3) "Poetic Diction and Legal Fiction," by Owen Barfield
4) "Marriage and Amour Courtois in Late-Fourteenth-Century England," by Gervase Mathew

(I decided against reading the other two essays: "On Fairy-Stories," by Tolkien -- which I've read before -- and "The Galleys of France," by C.S. Lewis's brother W.H. Lewis -- which, I'm sorry to say, nearly put me to sleep several sentences into it.)

All four of the essays that I did read were excellent, and I can recommend all of them (except, perhaps, for the last since it's probably more for people specifically interested in 14th-century history/literature -- although it's definitely interesting). I'll touch on each briefly to review:

" '...And Telling you a Story': a Note on The Divine Comedy"

The Sayers essay was probably my favorite, because it's by far the most readable, even for someone who isn't too familiar with Dante. Sayers had a rare quality as a writer: she was an extremely intelligent and very well-educated woman, but she managed to write in a highly accessible way. As a result, I think it's easy to dismiss her writing as less erudite or scholarly than that of, say, Lewis or Barfield (who might occasionally be erudite to a fault); but that would be to miss her gift as a writer. As far as the topic of the essay, she begins by explaining to the reader that she spent many years avoiding Dante's Divine Comedy, for fear that he would just be too dry and cluttered for her to enjoy, until she finally got around to reading him. And when she did, she discovered a masterpiece of such simple brilliance that it captivated her:

However foolish it may sound, the plain fact is that I bolted my meals, neglected my sleep, work, and correspondence, drove my friends crazy, and paid only the distracted attention to the doodle-bugs which happened to be infesting the neighbourhood at the time, until I had panted my way through the Three Realms of the Dead from top to bottom and from bottom to top (2).

Her excitement for Dante manifests itself in every word that follows, in the way that she unfolds the story for the reader. It made me want to read Dante all over again. (Which is a good thing, since I have a student who is starting Inferno in a few weeks.)

"On Stories"

Lewis tends to be one of those writers that has a very comfy kind of tone: the kind of tone that hints of a person who just pulls a chair up next to someone else and starts a friendly conversation about unexpectedly deep topics. But he doesn't use excessively big words and write compound-complex sentences worthy of St Paul. His writing is always a bit simple, but never simplistic. As a result, he drives his point home beautifully every time. And it's no different in "On Stories," in which Lewis talks about the point of story telling and the power that stories can have when their meaning strikes a reader just right. As always, Lewis's comments are wonderfully succinct and revealing. Discussing stories that make a strong impact, and Oedipus Rex in particular:

Such stories produce (at least in me) a feeling of awe, coupled with a certain sort of bewilderment such as one feels in looking at a complex pattern of lines that pass over and under one another. One sees, yet does not quite see, the regularity. And is there not good occasion both for awe and bewilderment? We have just had set before our imagination something that has always baffled the intellect: we have seen how destiny and free will can be combined, even how free will is the modus operandi of destiny. The story does what no theorem can quite do. It may not be "like real life" in the superficial sense: but it sets before us an image of what reality may well be like at some more central region (101).

For any Lewis lover, this is a great essay for placing the reader a little more in the context of Lewis's personal views on story telling and interpreting stories. (I've found that in general the Inklings tended to think alike on this issue, and Tolkien made comments that reminded me very much of what Lewis says in this essay, but I think Lewis tends to say it more clearly.)

"Poetic Diction and Legal Fiction"

I think Barfield might be an acquired taste. His writing is extremely dense, and he tends to explore his topics a little as though he's only sharing half of the idea with the reader, while he's busy churning it through his mind. This isn't to say that Barfield is a poor writer by any means or that he leaves out essential material. In fact, he's quite a brilliant writer, as he was obviously a very deep thinker. It's just that he's so deep that I sometimes feel like I've never been fully invited to review the topic -- because part of it is still working through his brain -- or that he's so far outside my league that I can hardly catch up to gather what he's talking about. I'd quote some of the essay, except I can't find a suitable place to begin a quote. If Lewis wrote more simply than St Paul, then Barfield bests his sentence complexity by leaps and bounds. The essay is complete, from start to finish, with each sentence building on the previous sentences. But as a result it's tough to pick a sentence out and quote it because the sentence before and the one after are essential to his point. The best thing to say with Barfield is that you have to read him to understand what I mean.

"Marriage and Amour Courtois in Late-Fourteenth-Century England"

I found this essay to be slightly dull, but fairly useful if you're interested in studying the presentation of courtly love in 14th-century English literature. If not, it's kind of dry. I certainly wouldn't call it essential.

Overall, these four essays were a fascinating read, and I certainly recommend the Sayers and Lewis essays for fans of these writers, as well as Barfield and Mathew for a deeper read.

Booking Through Thursday: Inspiration

Here's the prompt for this week:

Since “Inspiration” is (or should) the theme this week … what is your reading inspired by?

For me, it's poetry. That is to say, any kind of poetic language -- the words and phrases that stop me dead in my tracks and leave me mesmerized. I've been this way since childhood, collecting quotes and lines of poetry that, quite literally, thrilled me. I guess it's the "poetic diction" (or inherent meaning of poetry), as Owen Barfield called it, that touches me so much.

Several examples:

ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ
(Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns)

éala éarendel engla beorhtast
ofer middangeard monnum sended
(Hail Earendel, brightest of angels
sent over Middle-earth to men)

Nel mezzo del camin di nostra vita
Mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
Che la diritta via era smarrita
(I decided to study literature because of these lines of poetry.)

A giant moan along the forest swells
Protracted, and the twilight storm foretells,
And, ruining from the cliffs their deafening load
Tumbles, the wildering Thunder slips abroad

Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley again. It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter for the way was barred to me. Then, like all dreamers, I was possessed of a sudden with supernatural powers and passed like a spirit through the barrier before me.

Music: Kyrie for Four Voices

Because I was reminded of the Palestrina masses the other day:

Missa "Aeterna Christi Numera"
(Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina)

Saint Calendar: Feichin of Fobar

20 January

Born in Connacht, Ireland. Student of Saint Nathy at Sligo. Founded Fobhar monastery in Westmeath, and served as its first abbot. Founded monasteries on High Island and Omey Island.

Died in 665 of plague in Ireland.

_____________________________________


Text derived from Patron Saints Index.

Poetry Study: The Marriage of True Minds

Sonnet 116
By William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error, and upon me prov’d,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.

Author Birthday: A. A. Milne

Today is the birthday of A. A. (Alan Alexander) Milne, the creator of Winnie the Pooh. From Wikipedia:

Milne is most famous for his two Pooh books about a boy named Christopher Robin, after his son, and various characters inspired by his son's stuffed animals, most notably the bear named Winnie-the-Pooh. Christopher Robin's bear, originally named "Edward", was renamed "Winnie-the-Pooh" after a Canadian black bear named Winnie (after Winnipeg), which was used as a military mascot in World War I, and left to London Zoo during the war. "The pooh" comes from a swan called "Pooh". E. H. Shepard illustrated the original Pooh books, using his own son's teddy, Growler ("a magnificent bear"), as the model. Christopher Robin Milne's own toys are now under glass in New York.

Winnie-the-Pooh was published in 1926, followed by The House at Pooh Corner in 1928. A second collection of nursery rhymes Now We Are Six was published in 1927. All three books were illustrated by E. H. Shepard. Milne also published four plays in this period. He also "gallantly stepped forward" to contribute a quarter of the costs of dramatising P. G. Wodehouse's A Damsel in Distress.

These are the original toys that belonged to Milne's son. (I think this Pooh looks cuter than the more Disney-fied version :)

Bookshelf Meme

I, uh, completely forgot about this until just a short while ago. So, I'm late to the party, but I'll still throw in my contribution. I got tagged from Carrie at Reading to Know.

Tell me about the book that has been on your shelves the longest...

I have an old copy of Tom Sawyer that was once my mom's and that she passed on to me years ago. It was probably a fairly cheap book even in its heyday: the cover is falling apart, and there is an entire section of the book that is now missing; but I still love it. And every time I teach Tom Sawyer I use this particular copy. (I actually printed off the pages for the missing section from Bibliomania and just stuck them in between the appropriate pages of the book. It's not like I'd buy a new copy or anything!) Tom Sawyer isn't my favorite story by any means, but I love having a book that belonged to my mom and that she gave to me. My mom is a great reader, and more than anyone else she instilled a love of reading in me.

Tell me about a book that reminds you of something specific in your life (i.e. a person, a place, a time, etc.)...

When I was a child, my parents used to give me a small allowance for doing household chores, and I'd save up my money to buy books and paperdolls. The Kings and Queens of England and Scotland, by Plantagenet Somerset Fry, was a book that I saw at the bookstore one day, and it immediately became a must-have. I don't remember how long I spent saving up for it, but I do remember that I spent hours poring through its pages. I was a great devotee of English history in my childhood. I actually drew up an entire family tree of the British monarchy once and could name off the kings and queens of England in chronological order, along with their spouses. I guess there are worse things I could have been doing... But I loved this book, and it still sits on my shelf to this day, a reminder of some very happy days in my childhood. It has some great info in it as well, and I still consult it on occasion. Now, that's a good book investment.

Tell me about a book you acquired in some interesting way (gift, serendipity in a used book store, prize, etc.)...

Ahh...the Bainbridge Island Rotary Auction. One of my favorite days of the year in Washingint. For those of you who have never tasted of the sweet book glory that is the Rotary Auction, let me enlighten you. Every year, the Rotary Club on Bainbridge Island holds a massive auction. Alongside the auction is an enormous rummage sale where you can buy pretty much anything you could imagine. I wasn't usually interested in all of the various trinkets available. But the books...oh, the books! The auction was held in a school, and the entire gym was full of tables stacked with books. For $10 you could fill a paper bag with all the books you wanted. I have never bought so many books, nor have I ever been so diligent in stuffing books into a paper bag. I remember that I came home one year with forty books, most of them classics -- and I had only spent $10. My dear, long-suffering husband was on deployment at the time, so I scattered them throughout the house so he wouldn't notice them right away. (It was about a year and a half later, when we were packing up to move, that he said, "Where did all these books come from?" I just shrugged.)

But why The Leviathan, you ask? It was one of my purchases, and I committed myself to reading the entire book -- since I had bought it, of course. I had a class my first semester of grad school in which we discussed a brief section of The Leviathan, and I commented in passing to my teacher that I had read the entire thing. She gasped in astonishment and said that she hadn't even read it. To this day, I think that's why I made an A in the class.

Tell me about the most recent addition to your shelves...

King Alfred is on my Cambridge reading list for the year, and I bought it because I couldn't get it from the library. (And apparently, the seller on Amazon was so eager to get it off her hands that she mailed it Priority. When someone mails a book called Asser's Life of King Alfred via Priority Mail -- when you've only paid for Media Mail -- then you know they're happy to get rid of it.) That being said, I'm looking forward to reading this book, and I have a couple more from the Cambridge list coming my way, and now that I've waded through Uncle Tom's Cabin I should be able to begin them.

Yeah, it's a slightly frivolous purchase, but it was only $6 on Amazon, and I really wanted it. This book has some of the best style tips I've ever seen, so I'm glad I bought it. This isn't one of those books about how to be stylish if you have several million sitting in the bank but rather how to put outfits together in a cost-effective and reasonable way, while still not defying the rules of style. Now, that's something I like. Additionally, since my sister and I are now blogging about fashion, I thought this would come in handy. It doesn't do to gripe about other people's fashion faux-pas and be unable to assemble a decent outfit, now does it?

Tell me about a book that has been with you to the most places...

My husband and I have been married for six and a half years, and we've moved 1, 2, 3...7 times. I think. Maybe more. And I've carted my Nancy Drew books along for the ride. And that's not counting the five or six times I moved with my parents when I was a child. (There's wanderlust in my blood!) I love these books. These are also the result of my allowance money from childhood, and I gradually built up my collection until I had bought almost all of them. I have a very rare old copy of one book that my mom's cousin -- another Nancy Drew fan -- gave to me. My parents even have a photograph from childhood of me reading The Moss-Covered Mansion. I actually remember the night it was taken, and I remember the book as well. When I get a wild hair, I go back and read through them again. I'd love to have a daughter one day, so I can share Nancy Drew with her.

Tell me about a bonus book that doesn't fit any of the above questions...

I bought this one day when I was wandering through Half Price Books in Watauga, TX. I remember hearing about it on an Oprah show (no, I don't usually watch Oprah, but I caught an episode one day, and it just happened to be useful). I've read a number of books on diet and nutrition, but this one is by far the best. Guiliano offers the most reasonable approach to eating that allows for really good food and doesn't require people to eliminate entire food groups. And it's very stylish. I think that part of my love for this book is in the packaging, but be that as it may I still enjoy it and have benefited greatly from the information contained within it.

So, now I'm supposed to tag other people. I think I'm going to have to pass on an official tag, but if you see this and want to add it to your blog, please do so. Here are the rules:

1. Tag 3-5 people, so the fun keeps going!
2. Leave a comment at the original post at A Striped Armchair, so that Eva can collect everyone’s answers.
3. If you leave a comment and link back to Eva as the meme’s creator, she will enter you in a book giveaway contest! She has a whole shelf devoted to giveaway books that you’ll be able to choose from, or a bookmooch point if you prefer.
4. Remember that this is all about enjoying books as physical objects, so feel free to describe the exact book you’re talking about, down to that warping from being dropped in the bath water…
5. Make the meme more fun with visuals! Covers of the specific edition you’re talking about, photos of your bookshelves, etc.

Book Review: Abolishing Christianity, by Jonathan Swift

Let me admit up front that the title of the book (and thus the review) is somewhat deceiving. This book is not actually about the abolishment of Christianity. Rather, "Abolishing Christianity" is the truncated title of an essay by Jonathan Swift. The title in full is "An Argument to Prove that the Abolishing of Christianity in England May, as Things Now Stand, Be Attended with Some Inconveniences, and Perhaps Not Those Many Good Effects Proposed Thereby." In other words, Swift is against abolishing Christianity (this being the title of some versions of the essay), but I have no doubt that publishers capitalize on the "abolishing Christianity" part in order to lure readers into purchasing the book. Sadly, the publishers of the version that I read (Manic D Press) were so lured in by the title that they didn't bother reading (or interpreting) the essay in full, because they claim on the back that Swift "reflects on the absurdity of organized religion" in the essay. Well...not really. That's a pretty poor summary of the essay and its purpose. But before I put the cart before the horse, let me offer some more details about the book and why I read it.

This is my first entry in the Essay Reading Challenge from Books and Movies. The book contains a total of eight essays that I read (in addition to one section of "Various Thoughts" by Swift):

--"A Meditation Upon a Broomstick" (I'm not kidding)
--"Hints Towards an Essay on Conversation"
--"A Digression in Praise of Digressions"
--"An Argument to Prove That the Abolishing of Christianity..." (etc. -- see above)
--"A Modest Proposal for Preventing the Children of Poor People in Ireland, from Being a Burden on Their Parents or Country, and for Making Them Beneficial to the Publick" (no, that's not a typo)
--"Predictions for the Year 1708"
--"The Accomplishment of the First of Mr Bickerstaff's Predictions; Being an Account of the Death of Mr Partridge the Almanack-Maker, upon the 29th Instant in a Letter to a Person of Honour"
--"A Full and True Account of the Battle Fought Last Friday Between the Ancient and the Modern Books in Saint James's Library"

It probably won't come as much of a shock to learn that Swift was a renowned satirist; that is to say, his particular form of writing leaned in the direction of dry humor and sharp wit. So, when he talks about "Hints Towards an Essay on Conversation," he is actually mocking that requirement of his day and age that all members of "good society" be skilled in the art of conversation. (In reality, they were skilled in the art of inanity, as Swift notes.)

The most famous essays in this list are probably "Abolishing Christianity" and "A Modest Proposal." In "Abolishing Christianity," Swift makes an argument in defense of Christianity (and specifically Anglicanism) as a significant institution within society. I won't go through the specifics of Swift's arguments, but suffice it to say he addresses the various features of the opposing side and uses a great deal of irony both to indicate that Christianity is valuable but that many have lost sight of real Christianity and have fallen into embracing a nominal, and thus ineffectual, variety of it. Swift's writing manages to critique both sides of the argument and serves as a reminder that many Christians have become too content in their practice of their faith and need to reconsider what it is that they believe. If this essay is a statement about the "absurdity of organized religion," then it is primarily saying that organized religion (i.e., Christianity) -- by being reduced to a stately institution within society -- can ultimately leave behind its real purpose of acting as salt and light in a world of sin.

As for "A Modest Proposal," Swift proposes that the poor in Ireland should sell their children as food for the wealthy, thus providing funds for themselves and a delicacy for the rich. Now, before you ask: NO! HE'S NOT SERIOUS. What Swift is doing is placing before his readers the impoverished lifestyle of many Irish people and encouraging them to take action and provide help. At the end of the essay, Swift suggests a series of reforms within the ironic tone of "well, it's not like we could do this...":

Therefore let no man talk to me of other expedients: Of taxing our absentees at five shillings a pound: Of using neither clothes, nor household furniture, except what is of our own growth and manufacture: Of utterly rejecting the materials and instruments that promote foreign luxury: Of curing the expensiveness of pride, vanity, idleness, and gaming in our women: Of introducing a vein of parsimony, prudence and temperance: Of learning to love our country, wherein we differ even from Laplanders, and the inhabitants of Topinamboo: Of quitting our animosities and factions, nor acting any longer like the Jews, who were murdering one another at the very moment their city was taken: Of being a little cautious not to sell our country and consciences for nothing: Of teaching landlords to have at least one degree of mercy towards their tenants. Lastly, of putting a spirit of honesty, industry, and skill into our shop-keepers, who, if a resolution could now be taken to buy only our native goods, would immediately unite to cheat and exact upon us in the price, the measure, and the goodness, nor could ever yet be brought to make one fair proposal of just dealing, though often and earnestly invited to it. Therefore I repeat, let no man talk to me of these and the like expedients, 'till he hath at least some glympse of hope, that there will ever be some hearty and sincere attempt to put them into practice.

Some of the slightly xenophobic remarks aside, this is actually an insistent nudge toward helping those in need, and these recommendations are offset all the more by the shocking proposal that Swift makes earlier in the essay.

This was a short and thoroughly enjoyable read, and anyone who is interested in some challenging but often very entertaining essays written in a style that has sadly been lost to a previous era would certainly appreciate these.

Year of publication: 2006 (book); 1704-1729 (essays)
Number of pages: 117

Book Review: Uncle Tom's Cabin, by Harriet Beecher Stowe

Uncle Tom's Cabin is one of those books that sits on a very fine line between excellent and awful. First published in 1852, it functioned as Harriet Beecher Stowe's treatise on the evils of slavery and more or less galvanized the Northern states to demand an end to slavery in the U.S. Even Lincoln commented, upon meeting Stowe, "So this is the little lady who made this big war." (As a note of trivia, Uncle Tom's Cabin was the second best-selling book of the nineteenth century after the Bible. Just imagine what the royalties would be like today...) This book is kind of a mixed bag of good and bad, so I'm going to sort through both as I review it.

I've always been somewhat opposed to reading this book, because I suspected that it would be pretty insufferable. Being a Southerner, I usually find Northern characterizations of the South to be dripping in stereotype and to misunderstand the culture and habits of Southerners altogether. In this sense, Stowe did not disappoint. Every Southern character was rather heavily steeped in stereotype, and while I do suspect that Stowe had visited the South and interacted with people there, I suspect that she arrived with a certain image in mind and, finding that people fit it (at least in her view), she did not deviate from it. I should note that part of my gripe might be due to the fact that I listened to an audiobook version with a gentleman whose variations on the Southern accent weren't much better than Kirsten Dunst's in Elizabethtown. (That is to say, truly awful.) So, I found myself frequently galled by the attempts at "good ol' boy" accents and slow drawls that were based more on movie-style types than on reality. But the stereotypes are definitely there in the descriptions, and while I'll give Stowe credit for thoroughness (she literally doesn't miss a single stereotype) I was a bit irritated by her lack of creativity.

I should mention that the book itself isn't completely terrible, so I have to give Stowe some kudos. I might be a Southerner, but the institution of slavery is utterly deplorable to me, and I am in complete agreement with Stowe on this issue. I cannot imagine owning another person or of seeing a person as less than a being created in the image of God. But of course, that's an opinion of this day and age, when slavery is long since gone, and it's nothing more than a distant and painful memory for most Americans. Stowe was dealing with a problem in her own time and had to deal with it head-on. For her part, Stowe does a decent job of trying to explain how Southerners justified slavery and how many of them despised the institution but also could not find a simple way out of it. (Hence Jefferson's comment about having "a wolf by the ears.") She never suggests that she believes slavery to be anything but grave immorality, but she does create several sympathetic characters who are also slaveowners. In this, the reader gets the sense that not all slaveowners were monsters with a fate in the lowest pits of hell. It's interesting, though, that not a single slaveowner in the story is portrayed as a Christian. Stowe presents many of them as very good, well-meaning people but not as Christians -- as if to say it is impossible to be a Christian and a slaveowner. I would have to disagree with this view: again, it's easy to think that now, but it doesn't fit with the historical reality of slave ownership in the South. I don't think we can safely assume that the slaveowners weren't Christians; it's likely that many of them were Christians, but that they failed to apply Christianity in a consistent way to all areas of their life.

In other words, Stowe comes very close to something excellent with her sympathetic portrayals of many Southerners but then falls into an insipid mess with her inflexible division of Christian and non-Christian. (It is equally telling that all of the "real" Christians in the book abhor any form of alcohol and believe that it's entirely evil. This book seriously needs a few good Presbyterians and Catholics.) As a result, the book becomes a strange mix between complex and painfully simplistic -- as though Stowe couldn't quite work up the nerve to write a great book, so she ended up writing one that's borderline terrible. I mentioned in my review of Total Truth that part of Pearcey's comments about the rise of female influence in nineteenth-century America apply to Uncle Tom's Cabin. Pearcey claims that during the nineteenth century, it become traditional to view women as the bearers of real morality and to portray women as the saviors of men:

After centuries of teaching that husbands and fathers were divinely called to the office of household headship, the church began to pitch its appeal primarily to women. Churchmen began to speak of women as having a special gift for religion and morality (334).

One Unitarian minister even went so far as to claim:

I believe that if Christianity should be compelled to flee from the mansions of the great, the academies of the philosophers, the halls of legislators, or the throng of busy men, we should find her last and purest retreat with women at the fireside; her last altar would be the female heart (335).

This is basically what Stowe portrays: the best characters in the book are the women who save their husbands from evil through their inherent good. Even Uncle Tom is almost feminine in his qualities.

One final problem with the book that I need to mention. I'm not one for race-based analyses, but even I noticed this particular issue, and I suspect that I'm not the only one to see it. Stowe speaks quite openly against racism: a character from the North visits a Southern relative and makes it clear that while she opposes slavery she does not really care for blacks themselves and would rather see them out of the U.S. (She eventually repents of this.) But then Stowe offers somewhat insidious examples of racism. Her portrayal of the blacks raises some questions. The slaves who are described as most beautiful, most attractive, and most intelligent are all partially white; the least intelligent and least attractive slaves have the darkest skin. And then at the end of the book, Stowe makes a case for the slaves all being freed and moving to Liberia. In other words, it's wrong to own them, but they're not really American, so they should all leave and go back to a home in Africa.

Huh?

What kind of message is that? And doesn't that undermine the so-called Christian presentation of the book? (That we should love all men and live freely alongside them.) This left me scratching my head and wondering just what Stowe's message really was. I suspect that she didn't know for sure, and this is what made it all so confusing.

So, this is what I mean by Uncle Tom's Cabin being on a fine line between excellent and awful. There's some really good writing in the book and a discussion of some important ideas; Stowe occasionally soars toward greatness, but she's always pulled back by the weight of a bizarre and convoluted message. And frankly it's just too easy to see her tugging on the puppet strings at times, but she can't ever quite figure out what she wants the puppet to do.

Do I recommend it? Only if you're in the mood for this sort of thing.

Yippeeeee!!!

Uncork the champagne -- I have just finished writing a complete LSAT.

Apart from some revisions once it's been reviewed, I think (and hope) I'm done. And I'm breathing the fresh, sweet air of accomplishment.

Booking Through Thursday

Because I don't already have enough blogging on my plate...

I thought I'd try the "Booking Through Thursday" prompts. This week's prompt is about music:

--What songs … either specific songs, or songs in general by a specific group or writer … have words that you love?
--Why?
--And … do the tunes that go with the fantastic lyrics live up to them?

Several came to mind immediately -- all of which would probably indicate just how much of a geek I am -- but I settled on my favorite hymn. (If anyone thought I was going to whip out Led Zeppelin or Coldplay and wax eloquent on the qualities of the music, you're probably at the wrong blog.) I love this hymn for its simple message, and I definitely think the words work with the melody; no, it's not terribly exciting (it's a hymn, after all...), but it's quite beautiful.

"Calon Lân"

Nid wy'n gofyn bywyd moethus
Aur y byd na'i berlau mân
Gofyn rwyf am calon hapus
Calon onest, calon lân.

Cytgan [or Chorus]:
Calon lân yn llawn daioni
Tecach yw na'r lili dlos
Does ond calon lân all ganu
Canu'r dydd a chanu'r nos.

Pe dymunwn olud bydol
Chwim adenydd iddo sydd
Golud calon lân rinweddol
Yn dwyn bythol elw fydd.

Hwyr a bore fy nymuniad
Esgyn ar adenydd cân
Ar i Dduw, er mwyn fy Ngheidwad
Roddi imi galon lân.

And the translation:

I ask not for ease and riches
Nor earth's jewels for my part
But I have the best of wishes
For a pure and honest heart.

Chorus:
Oh, pure heart so true and tender
Fairer than the lilies white
The pure heart alone can render
Songs of joy both day and night.

Should I cherish earthly treasure
It would fly on speedy wings
The pure heart a plenteous measure
Of true pleasure daily brings.

Eve and morn my prayers ascending
To God's heaven on wings of song
Seek the joy that knows no ending
The pure heart that knows no wrong.

And the video (with Bryn Terfel and a magnificent Welsh choir as well as scenes from Wales):

Poetry Study: Jabberwocky

"Jabberwocky"
By Lewis Carroll (Rev. Charles Dodgson)

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
did gyre and gimble in the wabe.
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
the frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the maxome foe he sought-
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood a while in thought.

As in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came.

One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack.
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"Has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Calloh! Callay!
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

There are a few scholars out there who take "Jabberwocky" very seriously and devote hours to considering its deeper meaning, or meanings. But most scholars seem to agree that this is simply intended to be a nonsense poem (and even Carroll claimed that it was a demonstration of bad poetry), so I'll take their word for it.

Sometimes, things can just be fun. And this is definitely one of those times.

_____________________________________


From Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872. Text of poem taken from the Poetry Eserver. Additionally, here is a link with a translation of some of the words that Carroll invented for his purposes in the poem.

Book Review: On the Incarnation, by St Athanasius

Such a fascinating book. And something that all Christians should consider reading. St Athanasius' presentation of theology is so pure and so direct that it easily trumps the vast majority of contemporary theological tomes. The version that I read introduces On the Incarnation as follows:

Athanasius stood contra mundum ("against the world") in defense of the biblical doctrine of Christ. He opposed Arius when it seemed all the world would follow Arius's heresy. Athanasius's work remains even today one of the definitive statements of orthodox Trinitarianism.

And this explains Athanasius' goal very well. He begins with Creation and explains God's purpose in sending Christ as He did, offering a beautifully simple exposition of Christian theology. The book is divided into nine chapters (eight actual chapters and a conclusion), and in each chapter he presents what is almost a catechism to lead readers to the answer to his final question: what was the "supreme object" of Christ's coming? As Athanasius answers:

The supreme object of His coming was to bring about the resurrection of the Lord's body. This was to be the monument to His victory over death, the assurance to all that He had Himself conquered corruption and that their own bodies also would eventually be incorrupt.

Obviously, this is what Scripture teaches, but sometimes it requires a mind that is uncluttered with unnecessary theological trimmings to bring all of the details together and summarize them so clearly. I haven't read too heavily from current theological writings, but what I have read comes nowhere near expressing Christianity with such simplicity. And that really is the beauty of On the Incarnation. C.S. Lewis rightfully called it a masterpiece, and it's one that any Christian could read without too much trouble.

Having written this pittance of a description, I keep thinking that I need to add more. But I've honestly been trying to write this review for two days now, and I keep coming against the reality that Athanasius states his point so well as not to need me to restate it. I'll just recommend it.

On the side, I also recommend the version mentioned above, translated by Sister Penelope Lawson and containing an Introduction by C.S. Lewis. Even if you don't read this particular version, I still recommend the intro, because Lewis discusses the reason for reading "old books," with the fact that many of these old books are far easier to read than we give them credit for and also that many of them are far more edifying than we might realize. So, a big thumbs up for On the Incarnation. It only takes a couple of hours to read, but it's well worth the time.

Movie Review: Prince Caspian

As a disclaimer, I should note up front that I haven't actually read the book Prince Caspian, but I thought I'd mention my impressions of the film since my husband and I (finally) watched recently.

We definitely loved The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It was beautifully done and remained far truer to the book than I thought Hollywood was capable of doing -- especially given the strong Christian message contained within it. I can't say for sure that Prince Caspian is an inferior book to The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but I have to admit that my husband and I both felt the film didn't pack as much of a punch as the original one. I'm not quite sure I can pinpoint what was missing, but it felt as though the film Prince Caspian didn't have quite as much heart. It was a relief to see the Pevensie children finally make it into the movie, because they brought freshness to it that was missing with the opening scenes, and frankly the whole storyline of the Telmarines. On the side, I have to ask a potentially silly question: why on earth did the Telmarines look as though they belonged in medieval Spain? Is this how Lewis describes them, or is it a creative license on the part of the filmmakers?

And as for Prince Caspian himself, I hate to say it, but he was utterly devoid of personality. He was little more than a perambulating hairstyle that was nice to look at but was entirely undeveloped in character. I suspect this is a weakness on the part of the actor rather than Lewis, but I just couldn't work up a bother about him. There were some very serious issues that the character needed to portray -- the fact that he is essentially an enemy of Narnia but must become a friend and leader of Narnia, the fact that he must come to understand the significance of the Deep Magic, and so forth. These were great challenges for the actor to tackle, and I saw occasional glimpses that he was trying; but I just don't think he succeeded. Ultimately, the character was flat and uninteresting, and this made it difficult for me to enjoy the movie as much as I enjoyed the first one. Thank goodness for the Pevensies. I sure hope they're in future films, because they bring a breath of fresh air onto the screen.

Another note of slight disappointment in the film: I realize that Lewis was a close friend and respected colleague of Tolkien, and I appreciate that Tolkien's work influenced Lewis. But I found the battle-eager trees and the rising water that crushes the enemy to be just too close to Lord of the Rings. I have no idea if these features are in the book Prince Caspian, but they didn't do much for me in the movie, especially since I just watched the entire LOTR trilogy recently.

On the good side, what I did love about the movie was the battle scenes. I'm a sucker for medieval-style battles with sword-fighting. (And, no, that's not euphemistic.) Add in some good bow-and-arrow stuff, and I'm hooked. There were plenty of battles to enjoy in Prince Caspian, and I thought they were pretty well done. I came across another review indicating that the movie has far more action than they book, but I can't say I'm sorry. It was fun to watch.

So, overall review: good enough to see. And maybe good enough to see again. I'm still on the fence about buying it, though. I might actually have to see it again to make that decision.

Book Review: Total Truth, by Nancy Pearcey

As I mentioned in my "Blogging Resolutions" post, my mother gave me this book several years ago, but I had never gotten around to reading it. On a personal level, I have to admit that part of this is due to my objection to being given books that someone thinks I should read. My mother, of course, is a lovely person who has the best of intentions, but something in me resists the idea of being told that I must read a certain book due to its moral value. I'll attribute this largely to original sin, as well as to a rather volatile genealogical combination of Spanish, French, Scottish, and Irish ancestry. (In other words, as far as pig-headedness goes, I didn't stand a chance -- it's quite literally a part of my heredity. Not that it's much of an excuse.)

But having now read Total Truth, I have to admit something else: my mother was right. This is a great book that I should have read a long time ago.

I suspect that many people have already read this, and having absorbed some of the changing ideas in mainstream Christianity over the last few years, I think that churches were influenced by what she says and attempted to apply some of her ideas. Whether or not they were successful (or understood what she is saying enough to apply the ideas effectively) is another story. But for now, I'll just focus on the arguments Pearcey makes. Her primary goal is to awaken in the minds of Christians the need for what I can only describe as holistic Christianity: that is, the kind of Christianity that influences every part of life, that sees life as a whole that Christianity must shape and that doesn't just tuck Christianity into one part of life while -- however unknowingly -- and embrace secularism in other parts of life. (Of course, by using the word "holistic," I run the risk of embracing an admittedly secular term, but I'm now officially claiming the term for Christian purposes.) As most Christians would probably admit if they took the time to think about it, we tend to be masters of comparmentalization. We are believing Christians who have every intention of living a Christian life. But we don't really know how to apply Christinianity to every part of life, and we end up with a mixed bag of ideas, some of which are clearly Christian but others of which are definitely influenced by non-Christian traditions. Pearcey describes this split as "stories" (an upper story and a lower story), a kind of dualism that bifurcates life into two sections. These sections depend on the immediate discussion: some are as simple as a secular/sacred split, others more complex as an intellect/feeling split within contemporary Christianity (hence the vast chasm between what Pearcey describes as evangelicalism and more traditional denominations). Pearcey notes repeatedly that Christians have done this without even realizing it. The preference for compartmentalizing areas of life is so pervasive in society that the modern person probably does this without any effort. It's embedded in our society and has influenced even Christian education. After describing the state of most Christian schools, Pearcey reveals that the majority of teachers in these schools haven't the first idea about applying Christianity to their teaching; they "define 'a Christian teacher' strictly in terms of personal behavior," instead of in terms of curriculum:

Almost none define it in terms of conveying a biblical worldview on the subjects they teach, whether literature, science, social studies, or the arts. In other words, they are concerned about being a Christian in their work, but they don't think in terms of having a biblical framework on the work itself (37).

How many of us could say the same thing about our own work? Unfortunately, I probably could, and certainly not by intent.

There's a great deal of information in this book. Pearcey basically takes readers through a stream of historical information, indicating the various eras in which thinking changed and what caused this change. It's extremely informative and very eye-opening. I particularly appreciated Pearcey's explanation on the issue of Darwinism. Having read (and reviewed) Origin of Species several months ago, I now have a frame of reference for what she's talking about. I made the mistake of coming across a pro-Darwinism website before reading that section of Total Truth, on which site the various commenters spewed vitriol about Pearcey and assaulted her for poor scientific reasoning; so, my own expectations were low. But I was pleasantly surprised by how well Pearcey presented the information. Now to be completely forthright, I've never in my life been taught that Darwinism is anything other than an outright unbiblical and ungodly fraud. Whatever my own mistakes in embracing secular ideas, I never have embraced Darwinism, and when I actually got around to reading Origin of Species I was amazed that anyone could (as was my student, who picked up on the very dangerous implications of Darwin's reasoning fairly quickly). That being said, the acerbically eloquent commenters claimed that Pearcey presents ideas with no fact and can't support them at all. I would personally disagree, but what can you expect when Pearcey argues from a Christian perspective, and they do not? These same people argued that there is (and I quote) "mountains of evidence" in support of Darwinism. Unfortunately, the only real evidence that these people could present was the now-exhausted accusation that Pearcey is (gasp. shock. horror) a Creationist and believes in Intelligent Design. Meanwhile, I'm still waiting for the mountains of evidence... To continue on my tangent, I've yet to read any Darwinist argument that didn't conclude in precisely the same way Darwin's own argument did: you must believe in evolutionary biology, because the alternative is to believe in a divine Creator. Aha -- there's the good ol' rub.

(If I may insert an unsolicited opinion here, it seems to me that Darwinism requires as much faith as Christianity, if not more. But scientists can't actually admit that, because that would be admitting that Darwinism isn't science after all. And the rub returns...)

Enough of that. Frankly, there's a great deal of good in this book, and Christians should definitely read it, because Pearcey makes some excellent points. It isn't perfect, however, and I want to take a moment to point out the flaws. As Pearcey begins to show the origins of dualistic thinking, she goes back into ancient Greece and discusses the philosophers Plato and Aristotle. She starts out with Plato, but somewhere in the explanation Plato becomes Aristotle, and she never separates the two. Big mistake. They had distinct ideas, and merging these ideas raises questions about the credibility of some of hers. Additionally, she attributes some problems to St Augustine that aren't entirely justified, in my opinion, and she misunderstands and misinterprets Aquinas rather badly. My reason for bringing this up is that Pearcey, as a seasoned scholar, should know better. You simply cannot take the writings of these men and force them into the perfect thesis that you've created -- which she tries to do. Having claimed dualistic thinking from the get-go, she must then show how it was applied even from ancient times. So, she finds some elements of Augustine and Aquinas that fit her thesis (even if their complete writings don't tell quite the same story) and she presents them as support for her argument. Well, that's just cherry-picking and needs to be recognized as such, or people who haven't read Augustine and Aquinas might think that she's right in boiling them down so simplistically. Additionally, Pearcey is perhaps a bit too tied to Francis Schaeffer's ideas (difficult to fault her for I suppose, since she was, or is, the Francis A. Schaeffer scholar at the World Journalism Institute). As a Reformed Christian, she's a little too broad in her assumption that Reformed theology is the soundest theology around. (I have no great beef with much of Reformed theology, but in this as in the Schaeffer issue Pearcey needs to demonstrate a little more scholarly distance. She makes the "Christianity = being Reformed" connection a little too overtly to lend credibility to some of her broader statements about Christianity.) Lastly, she gives some credit to Catholics, but her overall attitude seems to be one big sneer. This irritates me. Having grown up in a heavily Catholic part of the country, I knew a good many devout, practicing Catholics who were extraordinary Christians. To dismiss the theology of an entire branch of Christianity in one fell swoop is as bad as grouping the A.G., Baptists, and Church of Christ together as exactly the same brand of "evangelicalism." (For that matter, I wasn't really sure how she was defining "evangelical," and I wish she would have explained it.)

But this in itself doesn't negate the qualities of Pearcey's book, and she redeems herself with her excellent description of the dualism that developed in America after the First and Second Great Awakening, and particularly after the War for Independence, with the rising cult of the individual. She concludes the book with an excellent and extremely revelatory -- for me, at least -- analysis of gender differences in American thinking and how we got to where we are today. A great deal of this, believe it or not, rests of the shoulders of the Church and the mistakes that were made. (Think of the rather Victorian idea that women are the kind and noble "saviors" of men through their own natural qualities, with men being the uncultured brutes who need women to civilize them. This will be extremely applicable when I review Uncle Tom's Cabin. Whether or not people realize this, the idea is still prevalent in the American church today.) She makes a comment that probably won't have sufficient context in this review, but I want to include it, because it's so true:

The truth is that men will be drawn back into family life only when they are convinced that being a good husband and father is a manly thing to do: that parental duty and sacrifice are manly virtues; that marital love and fidelity are not female standards imposed upon men externally, but an integral part of the male character -- something inherent and original, created by God (343).

Pearcey isn't talking about some of those extreme conservative groups here (who probably fall more into the dualistic category than they realize); she's talking about a total shift of mindset that we haven't come anywhere near approaching in the American church.

Well, I'm getting long-winded, so I'll wrap it up. Great book. Highly useful book. Read the book.

Year of publication: 2004
Number of pages: 480

Poetry Study: Passage of Time

"Nothing Gold Can Stay"
By Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
so dawn goes down today.
Nothing gold can stay.

I had to do a poetry write-up for a student yesterday, and I used this poem as an example, because it's short but still holds the potential for considerable interpretation. My own interpretation is that this poem suggests a two-fold meaning. On the surface it indicates the cycle of seasons and the inevitable changes over time. Flowers bloom and wither; colors are bright in the beginning but dim after a while. Dawn turns into day (which inevitably turns into night).

But I don't think there's any way to end there with this poem. The specific uses of imagery suggest something much deeper. The use of gold in the beginning, the mention of dawn (the beginning or early stage of something) passing, and the addition of Eden sinking into grief indicates the idea of a different kind of maturity. I like the idea that I've seen elsewhere about this poem hinting at the way we start out as a blaze of something wonderful but then mature into something a bit more steady as we go on. I remember having a discussion with a co-worker last year about a similar topic. We were talking about how students start out college with the overwhelming optimism of being able to take the reins and change the world. Over time, they grow to accept reality -- they probably won't be able to change the world, but they can learn how to change a small part of it through the work that they do. My co-worker and I agreed that this initial excitement is not necessarily a bad thing, however. It gets people out of the gate, so to speak. And it's a part of the cycle of life. We need that early bit of "gold" to motivate us, even if it will eventually fade into green.

Saint Calendar: Feast of the Epiphany

06 January

(Greek: epi, upon; phaino, show)

This day commemorates the manifestation of the glory of Christ to the Gentiles in the person of the Magi, as well as His Baptism and first miracle at Cana. Originating in the Eastern Church in the 3rd century, it soon spread to the West, where it is now commemorated especially for the apparition to the Magi. In England and many European countries it is popularly known as Twelfth Night (after Christmas) and is the occasion for the revival of numerous quaint customs. The feast is a holy day of obligation in England, Scotland, and Ireland. The office of the day is one of special beauty. (From the New Catholic Dictionary)

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Text adapted from Patron Saints Index.

Painting: The Adoration of the Magi, by Fernando Gallego (c. 1480). Toledo Museum of Art.

A Little Epiphany

"Epiphany"
By Reginald Heber

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning!
Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid;
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid!

Cold on His cradle the dew-drops are shining,
Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall;
Angels adore Him in slumber reclining,
Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all!

Say, shall we yield Him, in costly devotion,
Odours of Edom and offerings divine?
Gems of the mountain and pearls of the ocean,
Myrrh from the forest or gold from the mine?

Vainly we offer each ample oblation:
Vainly with gifts would His favour secure:
Richer by far is the heart's adoration;
Dearer to God are the prayers of the poor.

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning!
Dawn on our darkness and lend us Thine aid!
Star of the East, the horizon adorning,
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid!

This was in my inbox today from PotW.org ("Poem of the Week"). You can click on the link and subscribe if you'd like to receive the poems. The editors send all kinds of poems (not only religious poetry), so it's always a treat to see what they feature.

Happy Birthday, Professor Tolkien!

John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, CBE (3 January 1892 – 2 September 1973) was an English writer, poet, philologist, and university professor, best known as the author of the classic high fantasy works The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.

Tolkien was Rawlinson and Bosworth Professor of Anglo-Saxon at Oxford from 1925 to 1945, and Merton Professor of English Language and Literature from 1945 to 1959. He was a close friend of C. S. Lewis – they were both members of the informal literary discussion group known as the Inklings. Tolkien was appointed a Commander of the Order of the British Empire by Queen Elizabeth II on 28 March 1972.

After his death, Tolkien's son, Christopher, published a series of works based on his father's extensive notes and unpublished manuscripts, including The Silmarillion. These, together with The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, form a connected body of tales, poems, fictional histories, invented languages, and literary essays about an imagined world called Arda, and Middle-earth within it. Between 1951 and 1955 Tolkien applied the word legendarium to the larger part of these writings.

While many other authors had published works of fantasy before Tolkien, the great success of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings when they were published in paperback in the United States led directly to a popular resurgence of the genre. This has caused Tolkien to be popularly identified as the "father" of modern fantasy literature — or more precisely, high fantasy as he invented the modern looks of an elf. Tolkien's writings have inspired many other works of fantasy and have had a lasting effect on the entire field. In 2008, The Times ranked him sixth on a list of "The 50 greatest British writers since 1945."

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Text taken from Wikipedia.

Something Sort of Literary for the New Year

Take the Quiz here!

If I were to choose the character that I'd like to be, it would be Elinor. So, I guess that's a good sign.