Honorable Mentions: Pirate Freedom, Black Cherry, Vimanarama, We3, Evolution and Christian Faith, Born Fi' Dead, Nine Parts of Desire, British Summertime, The Necessary Beggar, The Fate of Mice.
10. Bienfait, by Stephen L. Endicott. I read this history book for a class but it's still on this list. That tells you it's pretty good. It's the story of miners in a little town in Saskatchewan, who went on strike in 1931. The mine operators and the government did various tricky and coercive things to try to break the strike. The RCMP ended up killing three of the miners during a parade that went awry, and it went awry largely because the police were out in full force to intimidate the strikers. Anyways, the author uses oral histories, previously confidential police reports and a lot of other sources to tell a very interesting and compelling story.
9. God's Continent, by Philip Jenkins. Jenkins examines the state of Christianity and Islam in contemporary Europe. Jenkins looks closely at up-to-date data and discredits politicized myths that are bandied about by the Left and the Right (he seems to enjoy doing this in most of his books.) It's a complicated story, but I don't think Europe is going to become "Eurabia" any time soon. Highly recommended for anyone interested in contemporary Christianity or Islam, contemporary Europe, or foreign policy.
8. In Pharoah's Army, by Tobias Wolff. I picked this up almost at random at a used book store, and it really impressed me. It's a memoir about Wolff's service in the Vietnam War. Brilliantly written. At one point out I went out to pick up food and sat there reading it and then suddenly realized I was in a Vietnamese restaurant and that the immigrant owners probably had their own stories to tell.
7. Flight, volumes two or three, edited by Kazu Kibuishi. I can't really choose between them, or remember which stories were in which volumes. Wondrous collections of short comic-book stories, ranging from hilarious to chilling, from cute to mystical.
6. All-Star Superman, by Grant Morrison. Morrison does a great job of capturing the essence of Superman & Clark Kent. He's a comic-book-genius-man, this much is plain to see.
5. Eifelheim, by Michael Flynn. A 14th century priest discusses Aristotelian cosmology with crash-landed aliens in the Black Forest... just before the Black Plague comes along. My review of this remarkable science fiction novel is here. This and Mirabilis made a great tag-team. Particularly when combined with the history of science course I had just taken.
4. Doctor Mirabilis, by James Blish. This is historical fiction about the life, travails and thought of Friar Roger Bacon, the great natural philosopher and empiricist of the thirteenth century. It's very well written (some of the images and phrases are permanently etched into my brain) and it's intellectually rigorous to boot (it seems like Blish immersed himself in the primary documents). Mirabilis came out in 1964, but even at that time Blish seemed well aware of the medieval roots of the Scientific Revolution. He shows all the complexities of contemporary political and intellectual currents. This is pretty impressive, given that this sort of scholarly reappraisal only seems to have been filtering down into public knowledge fairly recently. For example, Blish thinks that Bacon was indeed imprisoned by his order for years, but shows that this was about Bacon's sympathy for the Spiritual Franciscans, and not because of his scientific views. It's a scandal that this book is out of print. (I also wrote about the book here.)
3. The End of the Affair, by Graham Greene. What can I say? It's vintage Greene. (I'd already read the other three books in his 'Catholic quartet' - The Power and the Glory, Brighton Rock, and The Heart of the Matter.) Bleak existential insights into the treacherous human heart and mysticism at the core of suffering. And when you think you've figured him out, he twists the knife a bit more.
2. Post Captain, by Patrick O'Brian. I read twelve Aubrey/Maturin novels in 2007, up to and including The Letter of Marque. I can't keep them straight in my head anymore, so this marvelous novel stands in for all of them, in all of their splendour.
1. Watership Down, by Richard Adams. Somehow I had managed to avoid this stunning and profound fantasy novel about rabbits for thirty years. Well, better late than never! If you haven't read it, you really must.
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label books. Show all posts
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Mini-mini reviews
Black Snake Moan - Heavily concerned with morality and religion, in spite of (or perhaps because of) the graphic sex, violence and cussin'. I think it was trying to say something subversive (subversive to modern culture, that is) about how we need to be freed from ourselves in order to be saved.
"Murder in the Flying Vatican" - An enjoyable novella by Albert E. Cowdrey, found in the August issue of The Magazine of Science Fiction & Fantasy. It's a murder mystery, set aboard an orbital monastery which is dedicated to a mish-mash of Eastern faiths. Other religions make cameo appearances. Some clever observations. It is set in a future time in which the United States is mostly a blasted desert, and 'The Christian Era' is viewed as ancient history.
The Year's Best Science Fiction: Twenty-Third Annual Collection contains at least three interesting religiously-themed stories: "A Case of Consilience" by Ken MacLeod, "Deus ex homine" by Hannu Rajaniemi, and "Angel of Light" by Joe Haldeman. I've discussed the first story here already. The second concerns people who can attain a sort of godhood when their personal technology runs out of control. Of course these new gods are immensely dangerous to everyone else, and must be stopped. The story seems to be asking the question: "Is divinity simply a matter of power, or is it some moral quality?" The third is about a religious man living in a future enclave of "Chrislam," who finds an old science fiction magazine. I seem to recall Arthur C. Clarke speculating about "Chrislam" as well. It doesn't strike me as very plausible, but who knows. The collection also contains Gene Wolfe's "Comber," and a story by Ian MacDonald entitled "Little Goddess," which I didn't read.
Storm Front, by Jim Butcher: Harry Potter meets The Maltese Falcon. Harry Dresden, private dick, undergoes all the trials and tribulations a film noir hero must, except in this case he's a wizard, too. Very entertaining. I recall reading an article somewhere about how 'film noir'-style detective stories are essentially about a lone existentialist hero making moral choices in an amoral world where authority and society can't be trusted. There's a lot to that interpretation, actually, and it comes through in this book. It makes sense to me that later volumes in the series portray a friendly Christian as a supporting character, as Mir reports, because in this book at least Butcher is very much concerned with morality. I think he'd be somewhat sympathetic to traditional Christian ethics.
Nine Parts of Desire, by Geraldine Brooks: A disturbing and educational look into the worlds of Muslim women. All the more disturbing because Brooks tries hard to be even-handed and show both sides of the story.
"Murder in the Flying Vatican" - An enjoyable novella by Albert E. Cowdrey, found in the August issue of The Magazine of Science Fiction & Fantasy. It's a murder mystery, set aboard an orbital monastery which is dedicated to a mish-mash of Eastern faiths. Other religions make cameo appearances. Some clever observations. It is set in a future time in which the United States is mostly a blasted desert, and 'The Christian Era' is viewed as ancient history.
The Year's Best Science Fiction: Twenty-Third Annual Collection contains at least three interesting religiously-themed stories: "A Case of Consilience" by Ken MacLeod, "Deus ex homine" by Hannu Rajaniemi, and "Angel of Light" by Joe Haldeman. I've discussed the first story here already. The second concerns people who can attain a sort of godhood when their personal technology runs out of control. Of course these new gods are immensely dangerous to everyone else, and must be stopped. The story seems to be asking the question: "Is divinity simply a matter of power, or is it some moral quality?" The third is about a religious man living in a future enclave of "Chrislam," who finds an old science fiction magazine. I seem to recall Arthur C. Clarke speculating about "Chrislam" as well. It doesn't strike me as very plausible, but who knows. The collection also contains Gene Wolfe's "Comber," and a story by Ian MacDonald entitled "Little Goddess," which I didn't read.
Storm Front, by Jim Butcher: Harry Potter meets The Maltese Falcon. Harry Dresden, private dick, undergoes all the trials and tribulations a film noir hero must, except in this case he's a wizard, too. Very entertaining. I recall reading an article somewhere about how 'film noir'-style detective stories are essentially about a lone existentialist hero making moral choices in an amoral world where authority and society can't be trusted. There's a lot to that interpretation, actually, and it comes through in this book. It makes sense to me that later volumes in the series portray a friendly Christian as a supporting character, as Mir reports, because in this book at least Butcher is very much concerned with morality. I think he'd be somewhat sympathetic to traditional Christian ethics.
Nine Parts of Desire, by Geraldine Brooks: A disturbing and educational look into the worlds of Muslim women. All the more disturbing because Brooks tries hard to be even-handed and show both sides of the story.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Take This Bread
We briefly interrupt this hiatus, because I just had to tell all a y'all about this book:
Take This Bread, by Sara Miles.
I got the book Monday evening and finished reading it on Tuesday, because it was so good. Miles is a journalist, a left-wing political activist and a lesbian. She was raised by militant atheists and remained a contented atheist until age 46. Then one day she walked by St. Gregory of Nyssa Church in San Francisco, got intrigued by the artwork, and went inside. She took communion and had a mystical experience. From there she dived into Christianity, and then started a big food pantry in the church, serving a nearby poor neighborhood.
Along the way she talks about becoming a professional cook and getting caught up in guerrilla wars in some of the world's most impoverished places. She spent time with Ignacio Martin-Baro, one of the Jesuits who was later murdered in El Salvador.
She does an amazing job of describing the hurting world, the church, humanity, the grief and terror and joy of life. There are a lot of wonderful moments when some acquaintance or random person unexpectedly says something profound. And in a sense the whole book is a beautiful meditation on the Eucharist, which she comes at from a number of illuminating angles.
I find outsiders (ie, non-churchy people) to be the best at showing me what Christianity is and can be. Miles originally had very little background knowledge of religion, and she's unabashedly human: someone who makes mistakes, cusses a lot, doubts herself, and gets furious at people. But I can think of few stories where I've seen the Holy Spirit more clearly than in Take This Bread.
PS: A heads-up to my conservative readers: Miles becomes a Christian and throws herself into doing Christ's work, but she also remains a leftie and a lesbian (in a long-term, committed relationship.)
We now return to the hiatus.
Take This Bread, by Sara Miles.
I got the book Monday evening and finished reading it on Tuesday, because it was so good. Miles is a journalist, a left-wing political activist and a lesbian. She was raised by militant atheists and remained a contented atheist until age 46. Then one day she walked by St. Gregory of Nyssa Church in San Francisco, got intrigued by the artwork, and went inside. She took communion and had a mystical experience. From there she dived into Christianity, and then started a big food pantry in the church, serving a nearby poor neighborhood.
Along the way she talks about becoming a professional cook and getting caught up in guerrilla wars in some of the world's most impoverished places. She spent time with Ignacio Martin-Baro, one of the Jesuits who was later murdered in El Salvador.
She does an amazing job of describing the hurting world, the church, humanity, the grief and terror and joy of life. There are a lot of wonderful moments when some acquaintance or random person unexpectedly says something profound. And in a sense the whole book is a beautiful meditation on the Eucharist, which she comes at from a number of illuminating angles.
I find outsiders (ie, non-churchy people) to be the best at showing me what Christianity is and can be. Miles originally had very little background knowledge of religion, and she's unabashedly human: someone who makes mistakes, cusses a lot, doubts herself, and gets furious at people. But I can think of few stories where I've seen the Holy Spirit more clearly than in Take This Bread.
PS: A heads-up to my conservative readers: Miles becomes a Christian and throws herself into doing Christ's work, but she also remains a leftie and a lesbian (in a long-term, committed relationship.)
We now return to the hiatus.
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