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Book Girl by Sarah Clarkson: Books of Faith

Book Girl: A Journey Through the Treasures & Transforming Power of a Reading Life by Sarah Clarkson.

Book Girl Discussion Question #9: In chapter 5, the author describes the role literature played in making her faith her own: ‘Tolkien’s story helped me to recognize Scripture as my story, the one in whose decisive battles I was caught, the narrative that drew me into the conflict, requiring me to decide what part I would play: heroine, coward, lover, or villain.’ What impact have books had on your faith and your discovery of self? Are there particular books or passages that have been especially meaningful to you on your spiritual journey?

Of course, The Book itself. I’m particularly drawn to the Psalms.

Definitely C.S. Lewis, both through his fiction and his nonfiction, has been a defining influence in my understanding of Christianity and of my relationship with God.

I’m also indebted to Christian authors such as Keith Miller, Bruce Larson, Elisabeth Elliot, Josh McDowell, G.K. Chesterton, Charles Colson, Corrie Ten Boom, Richard Foster, and Beth Moore.

Or to list it another way, here are a few of the Christian nonfiction books that have influenced and strengthened my faith:

The Practice of the Presence of God by Brother Lawrence. A small but wonderful book about praying without ceasing.

Mere Christianity by C. S. Lewis. Absolutely formative. Everyone should read Lewis, starting with this book. (Well, maybe start with Narnia, then Mere Christianity.)

Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster. This book introduced me to the idea of “spiritual disciplines” and why it’s important to observe them.

Evidence That Demands a Verdict by Josh McDowell. I didn’t memorize all of the copious evidences that Mr. McDowell presents in this huge apologetic encyclopedia, but I did learn that there were answers to most intellectual questions about the Bible and Christianity.

Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton.

The Edge of Adventure: An Experiment in Faith by Keith Miller and Bruce Larson. This book did more to disciple me as a teenage Christian than any other book outside of the Bible. It might be somewhat dated now, but it was very helpful back in the day.

Keep a Quiet Heart by Elisabeth Elliot. Straight talk, no nonsense devotional thoughts from Ms. Elliot’s newsletters and books.

Loving God by Charles W. Colson. I found this to be thought-provoking and inspiring, especially since I had already read Chuck Colson’s autobiographical memoir of his conversion during the Nixon years, Born Again.

The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom, Joni by Joni Eareckson, and God’s Smuggler by Brother Andrew were all inspiring biographies that shaped my Christian walk as well. And I’m sure I missed some other books that were just as inspirational and formative. What books other than the Bible have shaped your thinking about God, Christ, and Christianity?

Noteworthy and Encouraging: May 30th

Born on May 30th:

Alfred Austin, b. 1835. British Poet Laureate after the death of Sir Alfred, Lord Tennyson, a hard act to follow. Austin’s poetry is not highly regarded, but he did write a couple of books extolling the virtues of gardens and gardening, The Garden That I Love and In Veronica’s Garden. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at these, even though I’m a terrible gardener. (I have a small garden with five tomato plants. One of my tomato plants has three tomatoes. The rest have none . . . yet?)

The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. To nurture a garden is to feed not just the body, but the soul.

There is no gardening without humility. Nature is constantly sending even its oldest scholars to the bottom of the class for some egregious blunder.

Katrina Trask, aka Kate Nichols Trask, b.1853. The following poem was written by a woman, Kate Trask, who had all four of her children die in their childhood or infancy. And then her house in Saratoga Springs, which was to be her and her husband’s legacy to the artists and writers of the world, burned to the ground. But she and her husband, businessman Spencer Trask, rebuilt the house and its gardens and made it a retreat for artists. I don’t know if the poem, Consolation, was written before or after she endured all this tragedy, but either way it is a striking commentary on her life and work.

Lie down and sleep,
Leave it to God to keep
The sorrow, which is part
Now of thy heart.

When thou dost wake,
If still ’tis thine to take,
Utter no wild complaint,
Work waits thy hands.
If thous shouldest faint,
God understands.

Gladys Conklin, b.1903 She wrote 25 children’s books about insects and other nature topics, and she was also a children’s librarian in California. There’s a very sad story about her disappearance (or death) in 1982. I have three of Ms. Conklin’s books in my library: When Insects Are Babies, How Insects Grow, and The Bug Club Book: A Handbook for Young Bug Collectors.

Millicent Selsam, b.1912. Ms. Selsam also wrote numerous children’s books, more than a hundred, about animals, insects, plants, and other nature topics. She taught biology in high school and at Brooklyn College. I have many of Ms. Selsam’s books in my library, including Terry and the Caterpillars, Plenty of Fish, Tony’s Birds, Seeds and More Seeds, Tree Flowers, A First Look at Leaves, Peanut, and many more. I would be quite happy to have all 100+ of her books because she writes with engaging text in a way that is simple and direct but also richly informative.

Dreaming in Code by Emily Arnold McCully

Dreaming in Code: Ada Byron Lovelace, Computer Pioneer by Emily Arnold McCully. Candlewick, 2019.

This new biography for children of mathematician Ada Byron Lovelace is NOT a picture book, and indeed, although it’s recommended for ages 10-14 in the marketing information, the book chronicles the actions and accomplishments of a woman who lived a rather shocking and tragic life. I’m not sure all fourteen year olds, much less ten year olds, are ready for the revelations that McCully sees fit to include in her biography, revelations of adultery, child abuse, incest, cruelty, and drug abuse.

In addition, the biographer is rather prejudiced. Lord Byron, Ada’s rake of a father, is very nearly absolved of all his faults, mostly because he wrote a poem in which he mentioned his longing to see his daughter after her mother, Lady Byron, ran away with the child and refused to allow Byron near her. Lady Byron, who does seem to have been something of a tartar, is painted in the darkest of terms as “obsessive” and “neglectful”, also self-centered and hypochondriacal, a dark and bullying force in Ada’s life for its entirety. Lord Byron gets off easily, I suppose because he died young and wrote good poetry.

Ada herself, because she was a genius and because she’s the subject of the book(?), is shown as a martyr to her mother’s domineering and dictatorial selfishness and whimsy. Nevertheless, there are numerous indications that Ada wasn’t much better than her parents when it came to being a decent parent and a faithful wife. McCully tells us that Ada was unfaithful to her long-suffering husband on more than one occasion, that she worried that she was a neglectful mother, and that she called her three children “irksome duties”. She was also drug-addicted, unhealthy, and an inveterate gambler. Perhaps one could blame all of Ada’s adult sins and problems on her horrible childhood and her horrible parents, but nevertheless it’s a wonder she was able to accomplish as much as she did in the fields of mathematics and invention.

So, the story of Ada Byron Lovelace is not terribly edifying, but it is a cautionary tale, I suppose. The sins of the fathers are often visited upon the children, and it takes the power of God to break a family heritage of sin and rebellion.

Takeaway:

“This was Ada’s great leap of imagination and the reason we remember her with such admiration. Her idea that the engine (Babbage’s Analytical Engine) could do more than compute, that numbers were symbols and could represent other concepts, is what makes Babbage’s engine a prototype-computer.”

Manjiro by Emily Arnold McCully

Manjiro: The Boy Who Risked His Life for Two Countries by Emily Arnold McCully. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008. 40 pages.

“No Japanese ship or boat . . . nor any native of Japan, shall presume to go out of the country; whoso acts contrary to this shall die.” ~Tokugawa Shogunate pronouncement, 1638.

Manjiro, a fisherman’s boy, who was shipwrecked on a fishing trip, then rescued by a Massachusetts whaling ship, seems to have been a resourceful and intelligent young man. He, along with his fellow fishermen, survived six months on a deserted island. He traveled to Massachusetts with the captain of the ship that rescued them, learned English, and reading, and writing, and navigation. Then, he went to the California gold fields and earned enough money for a boat to take him back to Japan. Then, in act of either bravery or desperate homesickness or both, he returned to Japan to face the possible penalty of death for his having left the country of his birth.

I liked reading this brief account of Manjiro’s life, and I believe children who read the book will find his story to be inspiring. It takes perseverance and hard work to encounter a different culture, learn what you can from the other, and then return to be a bridge between cultures and peoples as Manjiro did. This book would be a good addition to studies of Japan and its history, nineteenth century exploration and business, the Gold Rush, whaling, and cultural appreciation. For more information and further study:

Shipwrecked! The True Adventures of a Japanese Boy by Rhoda Blumberg tells more about Manjiro and his life for a slightly older audience.

Commodore in the Land of the Shogun, also by Rhoda Blumberg, tells about the opening of Japan to American and Western influence and trade after two hundred and fifty years of isolation. Manjiro played a part in Commodore Perry’s success in negotiating with Japan’s leaders.

Emily Arnold McCully is a fine writer and illustrator, with many good books to her credit, including The Pirate Queen, a picture book biography of female pirate Grania O’Malley; An Outlaw Thanksgiving, a fictional tale of a Thanksgiving dinner with famous outlaw Butch Cassidy; and Mirette on the High Wire, a Caldecott Award winner.

If you are interested in purchasing ($5.00) a curated list of favorite picture book biographies with over 300 picture books about all sorts of different people, email me at sherryDOTpray4youATgmailDOTcom. I’m highlighting picture book biographies in March. What is your favorite picture book about a real person?

God Save Texas by Lawrence Wright

God Save Texas: A Journey into the Soul of the Lone Star State by Lawrence Wright.

Mr. Wright, a native Texan, is as ambivalent about Texas and Texan culture as the rest of the country is. I found his book to be both annoying and fascinating–like watching a meandering train near-miss, not exactly a wreck but definitely wandering off the rails. If Mr. Wright had a plan or an outline or a thesis for his opus on Texas, I failed to discern it. Instead it reads like a bunch of essays or magazine articles cobbled together. And he ends the book with a whimper rather than a bang. After repeatedly musing about whether or not he should have stayed in Texas or moved to New York or Washington, D.C., he finally decides that it’s too late to change his mind. I join in his wonderment at why he stayed and continues to do so.

“Because Texas is a part of almost everything in modern America—the South the West, the Plains, Hispanic and immigrant communities, the border, the divide between rural areas and cities—what happens here tends to disproportionately affect the rest of the nation.” I gathered that Mr. Wright thought that the rest of the nation thought that Texas influence and power was mostly a bad thing, but I couldn’t really tell whether Mr. Wright thought it was bad. Maybe the rest of Texas would catch up to progressive Austin, and then it would all be O.K. Again, with the ambivalence.

The writing in this book is good and clear and engaging. The ideas that Wright writes about are not. He consistently, and in not too subtle a way, displays his disdain for what he calls “AM Texas”, “the suburbs and the rural areas–Trumpland. It’s endless bluster and endless ads. Paranoia and piety are the main items on the menu.” In contrast, FM Texas is “progressive, blue, reasonable, secular, and smug—almost like California.” Lawrence Wright comes across smug in this book, and his assumption that I share his FM Texas superiority and progressive politics just because I listen to FM radio and didn’t vote for Trump was off-putting and kept drawing me out of his narrative and his stories. I would have enjoyed the stories more without the moralizing.

A lot of the book is about Texas politics, which you either have an interest in or not. I do. And the stories Wright tells about Texas politicians and their foibles are worth the read. However, I just wish he had kept his own personal reservations and hesitations and conflicting feelings about Texas and its culture and politics out of the book—or else he could have said up front, “I’m a progressive, and a self-hating Texan. I want Texas to be more like California, but I don’t want to move and go to California. And of course, this is the reasonable way to view Texas.” Well, to be fair, he practically did say just that over the course of the book. Just with more words.

I recommend the book to Texans, but if you are at all conservative in your politics, you will find it annoying. I do not recommend the book to non-Texans because I don’t think Wright is fair to “AM Texas” or to the complex history of politics and culture in Texas. I found a book I read a few weeks ago, The Kings of Big Spring: God, Oil, and One Family’s Search for the American Dream by Bryan Mealer, much more insightful and thought-provoking than this one on the subject of Texas and its cultural strengths and failures. I do recommend Wright’s expose of Scientology, called Going Clear.

And God save Texas, because we do need saving.

Ferdinand Magellan, Master Mariner by Seymour Gates Pond

Ferdinand Magellan, the man who led the first expedition to circumnavigate the globe, was born on February 3, 1480. So, happy belated birthday to Captain Magellan!

I read this *Landmark history book in honor of Magellan’s birthday. It was a somewhat hagiographic volume on the life and work of this Portuguese explorer who took a fleet of Spanish ships and pushed, prodded, and bullied the sailors and officers under his command until they reached the Pacific Ocean, through what are now called the Straits of Magellan. In fact, what most people know about Magellan, that he was the first to sail around the world, is wrong. Magellan only made it to the south Pacific island of Mactan where he was killed in a battle to invade the island, subjugate it to the King of Spain, and convert the natives, by force, to Christianity.

Magellan, at least the way Mr. Pond presents him, was a very forceful and stubborn man. Pond uses adjectives such as “resolute”, “heroic”, “bold”, “brave”, and “perhaps overzealous” to describe Magellan and his actions. In his impatient and overbearing desire to see the islanders convert to Christianity and bow to the sovereign power of Spain, Magellan rushed in to land on the island of Mactan, where the people were hostile to his overtures, and he invaded with only forty-nine armed sailors to support him. The islanders numbered in the thousands, again according to Pond, and Magellan was killed almost immediately. But one of his five ships made it back to Spain with nineteen survivors, out of two hundred sixty seven seamen who set set sail with Magellan three years before.

So, Magellan gets the credit as the first to circumnavigate the globe in 1519-1522. And more than four hundred years later Mr. Seymour Gates Pond writes a book about Magellan and his “heroic courage, the ideal to serve unselfishly a great cause for mankind.” I read recently that courage is the median virtue between cowardice and recklessness, and I would tend to think that Magellan, courageous to a fault, erred on the side of recklessness. Nevertheless, his story was a fascinating look at the perils of exploration in the sixteenth century and the values of a biographer in the mmid-twentieth century. In this time of deconstruction of all heroes, I’m not sure anyone could write such an adulatory biography of Ferdinand Magellan, but I’m glad it exists. The biography is certainly informative and well-written, and as a history read-aloud it could certainly provoke an interesting discussion on leadership and courage and the value of wisdom to temper reckless bravery.

*The Landmark series of history books, published by Random House in the 1950’s and 1960’s, were a series of history books written by such famous and talented authors as John Gunther (best-selling author and journalist), Mackinlay Kantor (Pulitzer Prize winner), Sterling North (Newbery honor), Armstrong Sperry (Newbery Award winner), Robert Penn Warren (Pulitzer Prize winner), Pearl S. Buck (Nobel Prize for Literature), Jim Kjelgaard, Quentin Reynolds (World War II reporter), Van Wyck Mason (historian and best-selling novelist) and C.S. Forrester. There were 122 titles in all. For any upper elementary or middle school age student trying to get a handle on World or American history, these books are the gold standard.

To learn more about the Landmark series of biographies and history books for young people, check out this podcast episode, Parts 1 and 2, of Plumfield Moms, What Are Landmark Books? Why Do They Matter?

The Kings of Big Spring by Bryan Mealer

The Kings of Big Spring: God, Oil, and One Family’s Search for the American Dream by Bryan Mealer, author of The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind.

I’m a West Texas girl, not a native of Big Spring but rather of San Angelo, which is about 87 miles southeast of Big Spring on US Highway 87. Bryan Mealer’s extended family and family heritage remind me of mine, lower middle class or poor, mostly, with dreams and sometimes actual accomplishments of striking it rich. However, while my family runs mostly to teachers and retail workers and farmers and insurance salesmen, Bryan’s family seems to have had its fair share of businessmen and high rollers, truck drivers and dirt and cattle haulers. And then there was the oil business, boom and bust and everything in between. I never heard of anyone in my family working as a roustabout or an oil field worker or even anyone involved in the oil business in any way. Bryan’s family members, however, were impacted in many ways by the ups and downs of the oil business.

I’m sure I enjoyed this book as much as I did because it took place, more or less, on my home turf. It was difficult to keep up with all the family members whose stories Mealer tells in his book. But when Mealer writes about his grandfather hauling caliche, I know exactly what that is because I grew up until the age of 11 in a house on a street “paved” with caliche. When he tells about the dust storms and the drought and the people praying for rain, I know exactly what he’s talking about because I experienced all of those things in San Angelo. I never met any oil tycoons, but I knew they were around, and I saw the oil wells, pumping oil out of the ground whenever we drove down the highways of West Texas. Most of all, I knew people just like Mealer’s grandmother Opal, who served the Lord in her Pentecostal church all her life and when she was dying asked the family to sing her into heaven with the old hymns she loved. I also knew a lot of “good ol’ boys” who were married to God-fearing women and eventually got right with the Lord themselves after much prayer and persuasion—and a few who never did.

Mealer’s book takes a kind but truthful look at West Texas culture and West Texas people. There’s a lot more drug use and beer and divorce and domestic violence than I ever experienced in my Southern Baptist upbringing, but maybe I just didn’t know what was goin on under the surface or behind closed doors. I wonder how Mr. Mealer was able to get his family members to be so honest and vulnerable and revealing about their past mistakes and family skeletons, but maybe he has a knack for interviewing people and getting them to open up. The book reminds me of J.D. Vance’s bestseller, Hillbilly Elegy, but it’s even more immediate and recognizable to me because these really are my people. Thanks for the memories, Mr. Mealer.

If you want to read a sample of what is in the book, and some more about the latest oil boom in Texas that isn’t covered in the book, check out this article by Mr. Mealer in the magazine Texas Monthly.

Baker’s Dozen: Best Nonfiction I Read in 2018

Old Friends by Tracy Kidder.

Unveiling Grace: The Story of How We Found Our Way out of the Mormon Church by Lynn K. Wilder.

Heaven Without Her: A Desperate Daughter’s Search for the Heart of Her Mother’s Faith by Kitty Foth-Regner.

Educated by Tara Westover. Tara Westover, either bravely or contemptibly, tells the story of her struggle to educate herself in the face of her father’s seeming mental illness and her mother’s obliviousness to the truth as well as Tara’s horrific abuse at the hands of her older brother.

The Radium Girls: The Dark Story of America’s Shining Women by Kate Moore. Female factory workers contract radiation poisoning from painting watch dials with self-luminous paint. This book tells the story of their struggle to survive and to obtain help and just compensation from the employers who knew the workers were being poisoned even as they generated large profits for the companies they served.

First Lady of the Theatre: Sarah Siddons by Molly Costain Haycraft. Ms. Siddons was “the best-known tragedienne of the 18th century.” This Messner biography tells the story of her life.

The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit by Michael Finkel.

In Order to Live: A North Korean Girl’s Journey to Freedom by Yeonmi Park. A harrowing story of escape from North Korea’s nationwide prison.

Sent to the River God Forgot by Jim and Janice Walton. Jim and Janice Walton translate the New Testament into the Muinane language in spite of many obstacles, both physical and cultural.

The Wizard and the Prophet: Two Remarkable Scientists and Their Dueling Visions to Shape Tomorrow’s World by Charles C. Mann. An informative and insightful attempt to remain objective in reporting on two very different visions for saving the world: scientism versus environmentalism. Although both ways have pieces of the truth, I think there is a third way that combines the best of both worlds without their blind spots.

A Passion for the Impossible: The Life of Lilias Trotter by Miriam Huffman Rockness. A fascinating look at a fascinating woman. With the opportunity, according to her friend and mentor John Ruskin, to become a great and celebrated artist, Lilias Trotter instead chose to serve those least able to appreciate her gifts, the native people of Algeria. Did she waste her life and her talent? Read about her life and decide for yourself.

I’d Rather Be Reading: The Delights and Dilemmas of the Reading Life by Anne Bogel. Essays on the joys and trials of the reading life.

Proverbs by J. Vernon McGee. I like all of the commentaries in the Bible teaching series by Back to the Bible radio teacher, J. Vernon McGee.

Old Friends by Tracy Kidder

I like Tracy Kidder’s books. His Soul of a New Machine is a classic nonfiction introduction to the culture of the high-tech computer industry. Among Schoolchildren gives an in-depth look at the community of a fifth grade classroom. House shows the joys and challenges of building one’s own home. And in Kidder’s Strength in What Remains the protagonist of the book, also nonfiction, is a young man from war-torn Burundi who finds friends and sustenance in the United States. Mountains Beyond Mountains is about American philanthropist and doctor, Paul Farmer, who works through the medical and international aid communities to help tuberculosis patients in poverty-stricken places.

I guess one thing that draws me to Kidder’s books is their emphasis on community, on looking deeply into a community of people who are pursuing a goal or forming a group to mutually support one another in life. Old Friends is about the forced community of a nursing home. Lou Freed, a 90-something Jewish man, and Joe Torchio, a 70-something stroke victim, are assigned to each other as roommates. Lou, nearly blind but otherwise healthy, has recently lost his beloved wife. Joe has re-taught himself to walk and talk, but he still warns others that he is only working with half a brain. The two men live in a New Jersey nursing home, Linda Manor, where they interact with other residents, staff, and visitors in a “home” that will most likely be their final place, their last experience of community.

It’s a gentle story, somewhat tragic, but ultimately hopeful. The residents of Linda Manor are a mixed bag. Some are cognizant of their surroundings, intelligent and aware, and others are overcome by dementia or Alzheimer’s or some combination. Joe calls the former, the mentally alert residents, those who got-all-their-buttons. Some Linda Manor residents spend their days in bed or watching television; other roam the halls. One picks imaginary flowers from the carpet as she walks through the home. Joe and Lous participate in exercise classes, bingo games, and other planned, and sometimes unplanned, activities. They deal with visitors and phone calls and health alarms and staff cuts. They talk about how to maintain or improve their health and how to relate to or help the other residents and the staff at Linda Manor. They make jokes, act in a play directed by one of the residents, Eleanor, and monitor each other’s mental state and physical ailments.

The ending for this book was always going to be a problem because we all know how it ends. These men are not going to recover their health, go home, and start over. As it is written, the book covers a year of life at Linda Manor, and the two old friends are still old and still friends at the end of the year. Of course, I wanted to know what exactly happened to Lou and Joe and when, but a part of me is content to leave it there. I guess I know generally what happened since it’s been over twenty-five years since the events in the book took place. And that’s enough. From the introduction to the book:

There is an ancient proverb:
Don’t judge a life good or bad before it ends.
~Sophocles, Women of Trachis

Other books about growing old or about nursing home residents:
The Song of Sadie Sparrow by Kitty Foth-Regner. Sadie Sparrow is an eighty-six year old widow who has come to live at The Hickories because her daughter is too busy to care for her at home. Meg Vogel is freelance writer who has been hired to write the residents’ biographies, to take down their stories. Their friendship seems unlikely, but as they get to know each other and the other residents and visitors, their questions and the answers they find lead them to consider eternal truth and ultimate answers.
A Song I Knew By Heart by Bret Lott. This novel is based on the book of Ruth, and the characters even share (or come close to) the Biblical names: Naomi, Ruth, Mahlon, Eli, and Beau. However, this book is the story of an elderly Southern woman who has been living in the Northeast. After the deaths of both her husband and her only son, Naomi decides to return to her childhood home in South Carolina.
Winter Birds by Jamie Langston Turner.
A Severed Wasp by Madeleine L’Engle. Katherine Forrester Vigneras is an elderly, and quite famous, pianist, musician, and grande dame. She moves to lives in New York City and finds community in the people who live near and in relation to the Cathedral of St. John the Divine.
Summer of the Great-Grandmother by Madeleine L’Engle. Nonfiction. Reflections on family life, death, and dying in a Connecticut farmhouse.
Being Mortal: Illness, Medicine and What Matters in the End by Atul Gawande. A doctor writes about his own experiences with aging parents and the issues surrounding terminal illness, hospice, nursing home care, and death and dying.

Walking to Listen by Andrew Forsthoefel

Walking to Listen: 4000 Miles Across America, One Story at a Time by Andrew Forsthoefel.

I’m a sucker for books like this one: reading projects, walking projects, Humans of New York, year-long projects. In fact, I once wrote a post about projects and “project books” that I have read and would like to read. It seems to me as if a BIG PROJECT like Mr. Forsthoefel’s must bring with it wisdom and clarity in some way.

And I guess Andrew Forsthoefel felt the same way. After graduating from Middlebury College, he didn’t know what to do with the rest of his life. So he sought counsel by walking across the country, carrying a sign that said “Walking to Listen.”

“Life is fast, and I’ve found it’s easy to confuse the miraculous for the mundane, so I’m slowing down, way down, in order to give my full presence to the extraordinary that infuses each moment and resides in every one of us.”

Mr. Forsthoefel’s literary gurus were Walt Whitman and Rainer Maria Rilke, not the ones I would have chosen, but not all bad either. His counselors along the way across the country include a cattle farmer, a family of Navaho women, artists, and lots of just regular people. He thinks a lot about death and life, mostly death, and he never does come to any kind of unifying theory of life that ties his journey together. I guess I wanted some kind of epiphany or conversion or eureka! moment, and that never happened.

My favorite walk-across-america books are Peter Jenkins’ A Walk Across America and The Walk West. I’ve never read William Least Heat-Moon’s best-selling Blue Highways, partly because I thought the New Age-y-ness of it would annoy me. The meandering existentialism of Walking to Listen was sometimes a little too much for me, too, but I would recommend this book for anyone who enjoys the project story genre. It’s as much about pushing through, endurance, and completing the project as it is about the people he meets along the way, which is to say it’s a lot more about the author than it is about the people he supposedly listens to. A Walk Across America is a much better story.